This is my story pt 1

I guess this is my story of how i came around so here goes nothing....

My name is Alaric Vanvelsor i was born in California on October 1st 1991 in a general hospital. My mother was single at the time my father felt he couldn't handle the responsibilities and left us with her being 8 months pregnant. I suppose my first memory back when things were normal was my 4th birthday. The day was bright and I had the biggest cake on planet earth. I loved every moment of it I loved everything at that time. Back when things were normally and not totally screwed up like it is now.

I will skip you the formalities and jump straight to the age of 15 things were rough with people getting sick with some flu my mom caught it and died very fast. Being all alone I got a fake id and joined the military. For some reason they never even asked for it they shipped me off to Transylvania for some dumbshit reason and I fell in love with there culture. It was here that with permission of my troop leader I changed my name to what you know me as Alaric.

I was asked to guard this place called camp St. Teresa they said it would be a cake job easy peasy nothing to worry about. I said “ok how much does it pay” my troop leader responded “enough” so I, knowing how my troop leader used to always say we don't get paid ENOUGH for this job. So when he said enough I hoped on board. I had no idea what was in store for me.

Before I went on to St. Teresa I was briefed on what I would see and what protocol was there. They first made me sign a release saying I would not discuss any of the things I witnessed there. You may be thinking how could you work for such assholes well the answer is simple. At the time I needed the money I had to keep paying off some of the higher ups who were suspicious of my age. The next thing that I was given was a face mask and riot gear. My first response was “What the hell am I guarding?” the captain in charge simply said “the dying.”

Soon I begin to realize they aren't here to help these people they are here to dispose of them. I refuse to be apart of this I don't care what they pay me. I cant be someone who turns away from these atrocities I will not help in another holocaust.I told my buddy who I was and I confessed on my real age and told him “I'm getting the hell out of here if you want to go I will gladly let you.” He sat there and thought about it he said “let me think on this for a little while” and I responded by saying “ok no problem I'm not going to leave till tomorrow.”

That night we heard some loud noises and then the camp alarm sounded we were shaken out of our beds and run to our posts we have to make our appearances. People were trying to break down the gate. Our commander said shoot them and not let anyone leave. Many people followed there orders except me and my buddy. We just stood there in shock as 12 people were shot down that memory is burned into my head I can even tell you how many women, children, and men were killed. 5 men, 4 women, and 3 children being led by there mothers were all shot in cold blood. They wanted out they wanted to see there family before they died but no. Instead they were killed right there, right there in cold blood. It was at that point that I looked to my buddy and said “now whats your answer” he looked at me and said “I'm not going to do this again …...ever” so we decided that as soon as things died down we were going to go over the fence.

The next morning around two we crept out of our bunks and headed for the fence. We took our pistols and a machine gun and a spare change of cloths. We got to the west side fence and climbed over. My heart was racing as we ran across the dessert towards Las vegas. We were now AWAL