Platoon Connex Hungers For Flesh Of Innocent, Occasional Private
FORT HOOD, TX - Following a strange meteorological phenomenon late last night, 2nd Platoon’s connex attained self-awareness and developed a ravenous hunger for the tender meat of the unbaptized.
A connex is a large metal container used by the Army to store and ship large amounts of equipment. 2nd Platoon’s connex typically fit this description until the green meteorites began to fall at approximately 0245 this morning.
“The falling green objects are nothing to be worried about. It was just a MLRS (Multi-Launch-Rocket-System) test which malfunctioned. The Army, and especially us at III Corp, pride ourselves on our readiness,” said public affairs officer CPT John Hawn.
At 0253, a green light drifted down from the cloud cover and entered a locked connex in the battalion motor pool. Shortly thereafter, a low hum could be heard and a bright yellowish light began pulsating from the inside of the metal container. After eleven minutes, the light died, and the metamorphosis was complete. A2NC 1334526H78, as the connex is known on various hand receipts, had come to life.
The change went unnoticed by Military Police who were patrolling the streets adjacent to the motor pool where the connex lurked.
“We were looking for a girl who had stumbled out of the barracks. We got a call about some drunken yelling. You know how these damn soldiers get, but we had to try and make sure nothing happened to any civilians signed on post,” said SGT Williams, the MP on duty that night. “We didn’t find her. Guess she made up with whoever she was squabbling with.”
At that moment, a blood curdling roar emanated from the battalion motor pool. The sound was a combination of metal tearing and the wail of a thousand hell-spawned monstrosities let loose upon the unsuspecting world. After a moment, the noise abruptly stopped. Sources report that Williams looked towards the motor pool, turned back to his patrol car, got in, and sped off in the opposite direction.
The noise awoke SSG Fergesun, who was staying in a nearby barracks room due to recent marital difficulties. Fergesun decided to check out the situation.
“I went in there and looked. I even woke up Private Smith, who was on CQ, to unlock the gate for me. After we fiddled around in there for about twenty minutes, I told him to do another lap, and I went back to bed,” said Fergesun. Private Smith was unavailable for questioning.
The rest of the night, A2NC 1334526H78 waited. The connex was full of tangled wire, broken training equipment, dark thoughts, and a half digested female civilian. When the sun finally rose on the connex, it brought soldiers with it.
“[gurgle]The Suuuun! I knew that was [gurgle] when the man-food would come,” said A2NC 1334526H78.
Unaware of the danger, the company began their usual physical training. Jogging in lines down the road, the company passed within feet of the creature. Yet, the connex continued to wait.
During Preventive Maintenance Checks and Services, few privates had cause to venture toward the dreadnaught. Yet it hungered. Throughout the day, none wandered close enough to the connex’s well laid camo-net-snare-trap. Frustrated with the lack of game, the container’s short temper erupted. Releasing a maddening crescendo, A2NC 1334526H78 reared back and howled. It spread the black leather wings it had inherited from its father, Satan, and took flight. The leviathan then belched black fire down on the unsuspecting. After three passes, A2NC 1334526H78 had laid waste to all in the battalion motor pool.
With long, dramatic sweeps of its wings, the creature flew out of the motor pool, over the gatehouse, and into the city of Killeen, Texas.
There was much gnashing of teeth and mourning.
“Well, needless to say, we wish it wouldn’t have happened,” said CPT Hawn, “but sometimes in these old posts, gas leaks are simply impossible to maintain. It is III Corp’s mission to maintain infrastructure at Fort Hood, and we take that mission very seriously. This was just one of those unavoidable accidents.”