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Hellscape
Day 17: Pittman Outpost
Pittman isn’t a place for the faint of heart. The landscape stretches out as a barren wasteland. It is rugged and scarred from countless battles. I stood watch this morning, looking out across the plains littered with craters, some still smoldering from yesterday’s skirmish. The ground here is rocky and unforgiving, jagged peaks jutting up like broken teeth against the dark sky. Everything about Pittman feels hostile, like the planet itself is trying to push us off.
Our outpost is just a series of armored bunkers and hastily constructed barriers, a makeshift fortress trying to hold back an enemy that never seems to stop. The Marines here are on constant alert, cycling between prepping for combat, heading out on patrols, and trying to snatch a few moments of rest when they can. The exhaustion is visible on everyone’s faces, but we keep going. We don’t have a choice.
The sky today was dark and heavy with storm clouds, casting an eerie light across the landscape. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but the real threat is always closer, those alien scouts that creep just outside the perimeter, never close enough to engage, but close enough to remind us they’re there. Waiting.
Day 18: After the Battle
Last night was brutal. The aliens hit us hard, coming in waves with those strange, gliding movements that make them look like shadows darting across the field. We lost three Marines in the firefight, all good warriors who didn’t have a chance to react to the speed of the attack. By the time we fought them back, the outpost was littered with the remains of their bodies, twisted and broken.
The medics were working through the night, patching up wounds and stabilizing the injured. You could smell the scorched metal and burnt ozone from the alien weapons, mixing with the smoke from our own defenses. I barely slept; every time I closed my eyes, I could still see them in the distance, the gleam of their armor catching the faint light of the storm.
In the morning, the outpost felt like a ghost town. The wounded were taken to the medical bunkers, while the rest of us scouted the field, looking for any stragglers or intel we could salvage from the remains. The aliens left nothing behind, no sign of where they came from or what their motives were. Just destruction.
Day 19: The Calm Before the Storm
Today was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that sets your teeth on edge. We spent most of the day reinforcing the bunkers, tightening defenses and laying down new lines of fire. The Marines were restless, itching for something to break the tension. Even the storm seemed to hold back, the dark clouds hanging low and heavy, casting everything in an oppressive shadow.
I took a walk along the perimeter during my break, watching the empty plains stretch out into the distance. Craters pockmarked the landscape, filled with scorched debris and the occasional twisted piece of alien tech. It’s hard to believe that this place was once just another frontier world, now it’s a graveyard, a constant reminder of what we’re up against.
As the sun set, the outpost settled into a wary silence. The Marines here know better than to relax, even on a quiet night. We’re expecting another assault soon, maybe even tonight. And when it comes, we’ll be ready. At least, as ready as you can be against an enemy that defies everything we know.
Day 20: The Sky Burns
The attack came just before dawn. I was on the night watch when it started as a low hum that grew into a piercing screech as alien fighters shot across the sky, leaving trails of plasma in their wake. The bunkers shook with the impact of their weapons, and I barely had time to grab my rifle before the alarms went off.
The Marines poured out of the bunkers, returning fire with everything we had. The sky was filled with flashes of red and blue as our rounds met their energy blasts, lighting up the darkness. The storm broke open at that moment, rain pouring down in sheets, mixing with the smoke and ash from the battlefield. It was like something out of a nightmare, half of us could barely see, but we kept fighting, pushing them back one shot at a time.
The alien forces were relentless, faster and more coordinated than anything we’ve faced. But we held. By sunrise, the attack had broken. Their forces retreated, leaving their dead scattered across the field. The rain had washed most of the blood away, but the craters were filled with the wreckage of their weapons and armor.
This is what Pittman is, a war zone where every sunrise feels like a victory, and every sunset is a reminder of the battles yet to come. We are battered and bruised, but our spirit is unbroken. We’re holding the line, for as long as we can.
Day 21: Reflection
I don’t know how much longer we’ll be here. Pittman isn’t a place where you survive; it’s a place you endure. The terrain, the enemy, the endless storms, everything about this planet is hostile. But in a way, it’s also a proving ground. Every day, we face something that should break us. And every day, we survive.
Looking out over the ruined landscape, I wonder how much longer this war will last, how many more of us will be lost to this unforgiving world. But one thing’s certain: Pittman won’t break us. We’re Marines, and we’ll fight until there’s nothing left to fight for.
--- End of Journal ---
Private First Class Jayden
2217