Escape from Remnant

Chapter 16: Survival with no purpose

Christmas was always a marvellous time all across the world, it was a time of celebration, a time of joy, where children played with each other, family brought gifts and said gifts were opened. But for those stuck in tarkov it was misery, the snow coming down meant there was another thing to worry about. Sure it was fine for the bosses like Kaban who was having a Christmas party with the other scav bosses at lexos right now and some of the well established pmcs who were also having parties of their own. The rogues for example were having a feast back in the water treatment plant safe from the elements.

What Moron would give for a warm place. He had been...wandering for awhile now, a nomad basically. Currently he was walking near the dorms trudging through snow dragging his feet through it creating tiny trenches. It was cold, he felt like his balls could fall off like any moment right now. To make it worse everything he owned was on his back, his RPG, AKS-74U, everything. But he had to keep going, he had to survive. He had nothing to live for but basic human instinct told him to survive no matter the odds, keep living until the sunrise next day, then the next, then the day after that and so fourth.

Customs was a good place for shelter, most pmcs knew the area like it was the back of their hands. He could either go to big red or construction, those were his nearest options. There was also that tiny shack where people usually left a armour repair kit or the other one near the UN checkpoint. Just all he needed was warmth...warmth...fuck this cold...oh shit. Moron immediately dives for cover noticing a group of 3 scavs near the hole in the fence leading to construction, there was no way getting past them so the only way...was to load his gun and go. He checked the magazine currently loaded into his rifle, it looked full or being close to full.

"Alright alright come on just die quickly..." He takes aim, the EOtech holographic sight aimed right at one of their heads. How could those scavs just stand there in the cold was unknown to him, maybe he would find out after they were dead. He squeezes the trigger and the first bullet kills the scav he was aiming at immediately. The other scavs run for cover into a depression in the groune, Moron let's another burst out shooting another dead his body falling down into the depression.

He gets up from his prone position and begins running towards where the scavs were. Current magazine out, fresh one in, he rushes forward and the moment he sees the last one he may dumps him, the snow turns from a pure white to a stained crimson in seconds. "Fuck...you better have something good..." Moron checks around him trying to see if there was anyone waitingbto ambush him before looting the most recent scav kill but all he had was a rusty MP-155 with express buckshot and a half eaten apple.

He moves to the next one, this one was better armed having a zhuk rig, armour probably ripped from some dead journalist, a AK-74 and some apple juice. All Moron took was the apple juice. The last one was a horrible scav, all he had was a Makarov pistol, Transformer bag, and flatcap. No rig, no armour, nothing. He stumbles his way through the snow towards construction and collapses in the stairwell, the area bellow the stairs itself serving as a warm enough pocket for him to rest.

He lays his bag down and chugs the apple juice from the dead scav. Then he reaches into his backpack and pulls out some vodka which was half empty. "Merry Christmas to...myself..." He holds the bottle out for a cheer but is alone in this personal hell.

"Fuck...what am I doing here...should've died like everyone..." He mutters taking a swig of the vodka, the clear liquid burning its way into his gullet. While drinking the alcohol footsteps begin to come closer towards him, he grabs his rifle thinking it might be a scav, reshala or even the goons coming to kill him but no it was Santa?

"Hey stanta here to give me coal...?" He says playfully staring at the man before him. The man was clearly not Santa, he was slim like a scav but not starving like they were usually. He had a fake white beard, a Santa red and white hat, scav clothes, a 6B13 assault armour vest, Zhuk chest rig, AKMS, and most strikingly of all a red and white pilgrim backpack. "Ho ho what do we have here...?" Santa said looking down at Moron's disheveled state cheerfully as he kneeled down to get to his eye level.

"Jesus you really act like santa. What do you want?" Moron just saw through it all, this was all a cosplay, a ruse. He was waiting when the scav behind the mask would just say something along the lines of "ho ho ho give me your fucking possessions now" but it never came. Instead the santa scav threw a present towards him from his backpack. Moron grabs the present and cautiously opens it slowly to make sure he didn't get unabomber'd.

"You know in surprised you dont know about me. PMCs they come to me and I just give them presents. I've been doing this since...how long? Whenever I got trapped here like everyone else."

Sliding the present lid open he sees several items inside of it, a bottle of homemade moonshine, a fire starting kit, several packets of BT gs ammo, isrka ration packs, water and a red flare. His eyes glow like a kid would doing the same exact thing on Christmas day, these were expensive valuable items or just solved his food problem for multiple days.

"Jesus santa this...this is holy shit...why...?" He asks, not believing someone would just give him something like this, nobody did in his life for a long time. "Because..." Santa says as he sat down next to him putting his large cumbersome pilgrim onto the floor.

"Because you PMCs are like children sometimes, I realized many of you while complete monsters are monsters for a reason. I'm kind because you all still need it at the end of the day. We all are human...except for tagila and Killa those 2 are something else..."

"Hah your right about those 2 they're inhuman..." The glass bottle of vodka Moron was drinking finishes, the last drop of the clear alcohol being consumed by him, he grabs the moonshine from the box and begins to drink it.

"Your not going to sell the moonshine...?"

"Nah...why would i? No stash no home, why would I carry so such roubles on me. I'm asking to get robbed at that point." He finishes the moonshine and thosses it next to the empty vodka bottle, something usually so revered treated as if it were gold usually by pmcs in the region just devolved into a simple alcoholic drink like that. Santa didn't know if he should feel like a fool or confident of himself.

"Do you even want to escape tarkov then?"

"I'm not sure anymore...no family, dad died in Chechnya, got executed by rebels or some shit then my mom ran away and left me at the local police station. Got raises by mother Russia herself and after all my service to her in the military and BEAR they just abandon me here...shits fucked..." Painfully Moron let's out giving a rough outline of his life and how he got here to such a low point.

"Jesus Christ." Was all Santa could let out, never in his life he would have thought a man so depressed that he didn't want to escape this 4th world shithole. Yes there are people who don't want to escape like those imported dogs who inhabit the water treatment plant or some of the scavs but their drive to not escape from takrov is their greed of wanting a lawless place to conduct their elicit activities or fear of government agencies hot on their criminal asses. Looking down at his watch Santa gets up determining that he had spent enough time with Moron, he had to give presents to more people afterall.

"Listen...life's fucked for you and all of us but if you live I'll invite you to my home during Christmas once this shit is over" he puts his hand out intent on aiding Moron up to his feet, the men hold each others wrists tightly ans Santa pulls him up to his feet. Moron gives a soft smirk to the man that had just offered him a free dinner provided they did survive even letting out a small tiny chuckle.

"Thabks mate, I'll find ya when its the time or maybe not and we die here." Grabbing his backpack full of presents Santa turns to the exit of the little uncompleted concrete construction they were I'm the whole time. "I gotta go now I have presents to hand out! Merry Christmas!" He walks, disappearing into the snow, as soon as a gunshot rang out in his direction Moron feels a slap on his shoulder.

"Ah! What the fuck-" he sees where he was, in Ozpin's office. With Texas by his side, presumably the one who had slapped him awake.