War and Monstergirls Chap 1

Chapter 1

 

Casey glanced backward over the edge of the trench, his back pressed against the wall. Sweeping the tree line quickly to verify that nothing was coming, then turning his attention down the trench. Throngs of men were in a similar position to his own. Others were scurrying about with their heads down, their crouched stance giving them an awkward gait. His focus shifting to those immediately nearby, he counted his men yet again. He stopped himself for a moment and played over the thought 'his men,' letting his gaze linger on the squad of men lined out to his left. He'd only seen combat for a month, arriving too late to participate in any actions during the Great War. Still, his superiors saw fit to give him a battlefield commendation to Lieutenant from Sergeant. His mind still reeled at the audacity of it all.

 

"One battle where I managed to get myself and some other men out alive and now they think I'm some kind of hero," Casey mused.

 

The previous battle had occurred just a few days ago, and now this one was looking to play out in a similar fashion. Snapping his head back against the earthen wall, he shook himself out of his reverie and brought his attention back to the situation at hand.

 

 "Men!," Casey bellowed, drawing the focus of the men alongside him, "Men..." he closed his mouth and licked his lips, suddenly at a loss for words.

 

The look of wariness playing across the faces of those now staring at him gripped his heart. Though he was still on the young side himself, he had difficulty reconciling the youthful faces peering at him with the word ‘man.’ He briefly fidgeted with his rifle’s sling, exhaling sharply through his nose. Trying to control the rush of thoughts and emotions was proving to be useless.

 

"The shit is going to get real thick in a hurry here, but don't you boys worry none. I figured out how to live through one battle against these demons, so I figure I can do it again! Keep it together, listen to me, and we'll survive this!"

 

Some nodded, others remained blank. The diverse assembly of men present gave Casey some measure of concern regarding their ability to understand his English. Ordinarily various nationalities were kept together to ensure command integrity and prevent any inter-unit spats between men. Circumstances had, however, forced the creation of this irregular hodge-podge of units that were understrength to the point of being non-operational on their own.

 

As Casey was considering a few more inspirational lines, the howl of another incoming artillery barrage ended that option. Casey crouched low to the floor, others following suit or even laying down completely. The fusillade of hellfire tore the earth apart, heaving massive mounds of dirt and vegetation into the air. Some sections of trench were collapsed or utterly demolished. Men seemingly vanished into thin air. Casey screwed his eyes shut and pressed his hands against his ears as tightly as he could in a futile attempt to block out raging cacophony. An eternity marched by. Seconds stretched into days, minutes into weeks; how long had he lay on the dirt floor trembling before he realized the salvos had ceased? Carefully opening his eyes and shifting his hands to pick up his rifle and adjust his helmet, he set about surveying the surroundings. To his left, a few men were huddled and shaking. Not as many as he would have liked to see. Just beyond them was a collapsed trench wall.

 

"Not going that way, I suppose," he muttered to himself.

 

He rose, turning to his right as he raised himself. He took stock of the men he saw. Seems no one was lost over there.

 

“Things seem better this way”, he thought.

 

Fortunately, the trench looked clear in that direction. He closed his eyes briefly and pulled up a mental map of the trench network. He realized that there was no way back to base going this way. If they wanted to retreat they would have to go over ground. Moving towards the front of the trench and looking over, he saw movement in the forest a few hundred yards away.

 

“Has to be them… though to be so close to the focal point of these barrages…” he thought to himself, then stopped. There would be time to think about such things later.

 

"To arms!" he yelled repeatedly, gathering up ammunition that was scattered around him and dashing to the firing-step on the trench.

 

“Fire whenever you’re got a clear shot!”

 

He swung his weapon up and peered down the sites towards the giant figures that were just now beginning to emerge from the tree-line. They were massive, the front-line troops of an incoming spearhead assault. Holding massive slabs of steel in one hand and a heavy machine gun in the other, they marched forward in a phalanx. The shields they carried were impervious to all but the most powerful small-arms the men had. He’d even seen them shrug off smaller cannon shells.

 

There were gaps in the formation that a skilled marksman could exploit, but in the thick of battle the time needed to take a steady shot could get one killed.

 

“Damn monsters…” Casey growled as he took several shots.

 

Most bounced harmlessly off, though one did find its way through a weak point - a notch cut in the side so a weapon could be held and fired at the same time as the shield was raised – and the warrior behind the shield collapsed. Casey did not have time to savor his small victory as they had begun firing on his position, forcing him into cover. He dropped awkwardly onto his hip, causing a small twinge of pain. As he righted himself he looked at either side of him to ascertain the situation he and his men were in. Most of his squad had retreated into cover as he had, but not all. A few bodies lay twisted along the floor of the trench in positions only the dead can achieve. A random squad member would pop up here and there to take a shot, but were quickly driven back down by return fire.

 

“Those demons don’t stop for anything…” Casey uttered as he rose just high enough to see over the trench wall. The enemy troops were advancing slowly but surely.

 

“Probably won’t be but a few more minutes ‘till they’re upon us,” he thought.

 

Sinking back down, he desperately thought of a way out. In doing so he remembered something that occurred in the last battle. This steady advance happened in the same manner as now, but there was something else.

 

"What was it, centaur cavalry from the flanks?”

 

He quickly looked to either side of the trench, then focused on the side that had not been caved-in.

 

"So from there, probably."

 

"Men," he yelled, "Hold your fire and follow me."

 

Casey slinked along towards the still-open pathway of the trench, his men looking a bit perplexed but ultimately breaking off their fire to follow. After a few hundred yards he came to a junction that proceeded ahead and also turned right. The path that proceeded to the right would have to do.

 

"Line up here facing this way, " he indicated by positioning himself.

 

"But sir, the front is over there, shouldn-" a private stammered before being cut off.

 

"Trust me, there will be a push from this direction. They're just a distraction,' Casey said, jerking his thumb back in the direction of the giants.

 

The squad nervously set up, constantly shifting their sight from the visible enemy engaged with the bulk of their forces and in front of them. Nothing was visible to their front, and the growing shadows to the side loomed ever larger. Seconds seemed to stretch on into eternity.

 

"S-sir I don-" A private nervously stammered.

 

"Trust me." Sounding as firm and commanding as he could muster, given the hell that was unfolding around them.

More time faded past, the discordant sounds of battle a constant reminder that they were ever in danger's path, and yet here they were seemingly doing nothing. Casey swept the ranks with his eyes his body remaining in a firing position. They were getting anxious. Very anxious. He wasn't sure how long his mens' nerves would hold. From the far end of the line one of his men spoke up again.

 

"Sir, I hear something. It... it sounds a stampede?”

 

"That's the cavalry. I suppose it’s a stampede of sorts. If you have an automatic weapon I'd suggest using it. Oh, and fix your bayonets."

 

Casey smiled ruefully to himself. At least he was right. On the horizon wispy figures could just be made out. He looked back down the line at his men. Some were starting to visibly shake, but at least they obeyed and fixed their bayonets and a few scrounged up trench guns and other assorted weaponry that would offer maneuverability and a high rate of fire.

 

"Centaur," Casey began to yell, "Damn fast and they're armed like a tank. Good thing is they don't wear any armor! Or at least they didn't last time I saw 'em. Aim for the human part if you can."

 

Crossing the distance with the speeds of a thoroughbred and armed with heavy machine guns or small cannons, Casey had seen these lot in action before. They swept through the ranks with frightening ease and were one of the reasons for the complete and utter defeat the human forces had encountered in engagements. He and his men watched them grow closer and closer. He could make out their individual forms now.

 

"Hold your fire yet! Wait until they're within a hundred paces!"

 

They rode closer and closer, their numbers becoming apparent. Far, far too many for the small squad of men to deal with. Casey looked behind him down the trench to where they had originally been, hoping for some kind of reinforcement. Of course, there was nothing down that way but the blocked trench line. He looked back at the oncoming charge. Almost there.

 

"Fire!" Casey screamed.

 

If he and his men were to die here, then at least they would take some of those demons with them.

 

"A pyrrhic victory is preferable to outright defeat," he muttered.

 

They laid down a withering salvo, taking the centaur charge by complete surprise. Several fell in the opening rounds, the weapons fire stitching a bloody trail across their abdomens. With such a compact formation traveling at speed, it was all but impossible to avoid fire or even slow down. The confusion was apparent as the men received no return fire for precious seconds, felling nearly two dozen of the centaur. Seeing so many of the 'invincible' fall bolstered them with a surge of triumph and heroism. Many men began screaming incoherently; the rounds from their weapons were their fury made manifest.

 

Closer and closer the centaur came, their thunderous strides devouring the distance between the line of humans and them. Some of the front runners began to return fire sporadically, but did not slow in the slightest. They vaulted over their fallen comrades with agility that would have been a spectacle in a circus, even in their greatly confused state. Still they had to charge onward, regardless of what happened. Casey noticed a particularly regal-looking centaur towards the side of the formation signal with a larger banner.

 

“The leader huh?”

 

 A small detachment broke from the main group and slowed as they circled around to pull up the rear.

Now upon the men and their trench, the centaur leapt above them, bounding across the chasm with frightening ease. Many looked down at the men, eyes filled with malice. A few attempted to shoot down as they went, but their fire was ineffective.

 

“Keep firing 'till they can see the glow of your barrels!" Casey shrieked amidst the deafening stampede and gunfire.

 

Many of the squad dropped to their knees, aiming straight up and firing continuously, pausing only to reload. The fire raked the vulnerable, soft underbellies of the centaur. Some collapsed at the far end and fell into the trench or didn't quite make the jump. One soldier was crushed by a massive body, several others were pinned. Casey looked in every which direction while aiming straight up, firing as fast as he could possibly manage with his rifle. As a centaur was just about to make the jump, he pulled his aim down and fired straight into her human chest. She collapsed rather than making the jump and tumbled down into the trench, slamming into Casey, trapped him against the floor. He desperately tried to escape from her weight holding him down, but only succeeded in causing her body to shift, pinning and nearly covering him completely.

 

The men were beginning to run out of ammo, and began simply thrusting their bayonets into the air, attempting to slice the centaur bellies open. Some had the weapons torn from their hands or were knocked down completely. A few had some success, their reward being doused with blood and gore.

 

At last the majority of the charge had passed, but now the remaining men found themselves faced with a handful of centaur that waited upon the trench edge, staring down at them. One in particular stood out - taller than the rest and holding a large banner, her eyes smoldering with a deep fury. She yelled in a language the men did not know, but soon understood. The men were bracketed by barrages of heavy weapons fire, being torn to shreds were they stood. Tattered, bloody rags collapsed to the ground where men used to be. The executioners carefully descended and inspected their fallen comrades for any signs of life, helping those who were still alive free from the mound of corpses that filled the mass grave onto high-ground and back towards aid. The banner-bearer was the last to leave, inspecting the damage wrought by scarcely a dozen men. Near as she figured, fifty or sixty of her kind had been fallen. She could not help but have some small admiration for the valor of the men who fought here. The flicker of admiration was, however, quickly engulfed by her rage and grief. Unpacking a device from a sack at she contacted her headquarters and requested medical support. Her communication finished, she bounded to the other side of the trench and rejoined their charge across the human lines.