This page is a fan story about a character, and may not be lore friendly. If you are the writer of this page, please post this on the fanon wiki.
Before we start my story, I want to give you a quick Idea of what I look like. I'm 5'9, 157 lbs, Caucasian, Male. It's a basic Idea of what I am but it helps you visualize how I and other characters look in the story. Anyways, back to the story at hand.
I've heard of the MEB, PRT, and CDF since I was just five years old. My father used to tell me stories back when he was in the CDF, he helped so many people. Those people would go on to do great things and that left me in awe; but after some years I saw something change in his eyes, something that didn't seem right. The same help he once offered to anyone he found hurt... he began to turn down.. he began to become the same thing he once fought against. It was impossible to imagine what would happen soon after as some sort of group, some Terrorists (as they were labeled) had come out of nowhere, threatening everyone. That same year, my father had died, my mother said it was from bandits, trapping him and his battalion somewhere. My mother soon grew ill, Rad had gotten to her, we didn't have the money to cure it, nor would anyone be kind enough to find some sort of cure. She died after a year of me caring for her while she slowly withered away into something I couldn't even recognize. I left soon after that, grabbing my Sparo, a hunting knife, and my bag with some money in it. It seemed as though I was in danger for years after that, hiding behind every corner as if I'd be stabbed if I walked around the corner, but then I moved North and heard of this mysterious group called The Reds. I was told how they'd preyed on the MEB, CDF, and PRT for years, how they've destroyed countless outposts in the name of freedom. It all seemed surreal, as though it was all just a dream, I may have found this group who've killed my father... I soon moved South, looking for them. The rumors said they'd be in Georgia, in the People's Republic of Tidewater so I stayed for a couple of days, looking for suspicious activity, but none came. All I could see was CDF/PRT soldiers kind of patrol around the area, seeming groggy as though it wasn't worth the effort to protect this small town. I had searched the buildings a few times for any signs of the bastards that had killed my father but only heard stories that they loved the US and wished it as well as it could, the very thing my father had been passionate about before recent events... Maybe they weren't as bad as I thought, maybe it was just something I needed to deal with on my own. I needed to figure out what it was they did, probably at gun-point. I couldn't risk getting shot but I may not have had a chance to get a chance to be shot, because unfortunately I had no idea where they operated so I took the nearest road out of town, passing a lot of interesting animals and an outpost of some sort. About a mile out of town I heard faint shouting, it wasn't very audible but it seemed as though someone was giving commands, it didn't sound very formal but it sounded like it was serious, like they were trying to sound like a rag-tag military force, who knows, maybe it was the CDF, they usually do that sort of thing anyways. It still intrigued me, so I walked up to the house non-chalantly as if it was just a normal thing everyone did in the socialist ideas of the PRT. As I got closer the voice sounded stronger, it sounded defiant, it sounded like it had a purpose behind it, I stopped near the porch, looking towards the side of the house. The voice seemed to bounce from there so I walked towards that way, a little more cautious now but not enough to draw a weapon, I don't want to get shot yet. I turned the corner, spreading myself against the wall and scooting on it. As soon as I reached the edge, I heard footsteps and casual talking, the loading of rifles, the clanking of wooden boxes (or palets) on metal. I peaked my head from around the corner and saw 10 men, grizzly and well-armed, wearing red shirts. Of course I didn't assume they were Reds at first, a common color was red, but every one of them were wearing red, almost making it seem like they were a gang about to start a war between some sort of rival group. I quickly turned back, making some sort of loud clank from the bucket beside my foot where I'd hit it when moving back behind the wall. Immediately, three of them looked over towards me and told the others, blirting a quick word to the rest, they all drew their weapons, aiming them towards the corner I was on. Damn my curiosity, why couldn't I have tried to spy on someone less dangerous, like the PRT. One of them reared the corner quickly, grabbing me before I could run, he shoved his arm around my neck, placing me in a headlock while he twisted my arms behind my back. The rest of them had come around the corner, eyeing me like I was some sort of traitor. A singular person stepped up from the rest of them, he seemed about my size but more built. As quick as I had been taken into custody, I was unconscious, a pistol the to side of the head. The time after that was groggy and I was unable to move much besides simple movements to make myself comfortable. I was knocked out for about an hour, it'd be the afternoon and the sun would just be beginning to set, although now I was in a barn where I'd just opened my eyes and found myself tied up. As for the barn I was in, it was sturdy, every door seemed locked and two of those Reds were guarding the door, their guns seeming a lot more dangerous now that my hands were behind my back, I stared at them, waiting for one of them to come and stock me for it or something. Instead I saw the barn doors over, the guy that came and pistol-whipped me before had walked in, seeming a lot more formal than before. He walked up at his own pace, letting me take in how in charge he was of his men. He stopped in front of me and socked me in the jaw as hard as he could. He followed up with, "Who're you working for!?" I stayed silent, thinking of a real reason I was here, but before I could answer he socked me again, this time causing me to hit the floor. He ordered a Red to sit me back up, the Red grabbed my arm, yanking me back into a sitting position. The Leader repeated his question less assertive this time, "Who're you working for?" I stayed silent again, thinking of a better answer than a passerby, he spoke again, "What, are you stupid?" He slapped me, this time from the other side, I returned my stare toward him quickly. I thought of an answer that might be something that would seem like a reasonable answer, "The guy who's been searching for your asses for years." I was slapped again and told, "You're quite the dumbass, I like it. I might give you a chance to live." He lifted his finger, pointing it to one of the other Reds, "Take him inside, we'll use him for something." The Red complied quickly, half-dragging half-leading me towards the Leader's office. That's where my story as a Red begins, nothing much else has happened besides getting in and doing some... Horrible things to a couple PRT soldiers we've seen thinking their the shit around SouthSide. Freedom and Unison.