User:SergeantSadist

Currently Under Construction

Biography:

  He wasn’t all that surprised when they kicked his door in, screaming things about ”murder,  torture,  you have no right, why women and children, you can’t just go around making ear necklaces” – all sorts of things he wasn’t concerned with. After all, he did break away from his unit and start killing everyone he could on the battlefield... and maybe the civilians and fellow soldiers too. He had grown pretty tired of hiding it and covering it up, and was just pretty bored with the world around him. Whatever, they just were not seeing it how he was – “his victims,” were all just weak – too wrapped around worthless petty aspects of life that they were not able to defend themselves against a true predator. He saw it fit, a true law of nature – kill or be killed; only the strong survive, etc. etc. 
  He was a little surprised though at how quickly they had decided to go through with the execution. He was thrown onto a UH-60 (Black Hawk) and flown back to Fort Creedy in Malton. When they landed, the place looked washed in blood, expended shell casings littered the HLZ, he was curious.  As the escorts and crew were pulling him off the bird, he saw them – they kind of looked like Privates, but a bit more demented and war torn it seemed. Even with years of elite non-conventional combat training, a hardened veteran stands no chance against fifty some odd zombies – especially when handcuffed. He kind of laughed as he thought about his old unit with the US Army Rangers Recon Detachment, right as his throat was bitten and ripped out.  That was the day he died.
  He woke up a few months later, an empty syringe with a soft hued blue liquid barely clinging to the needle next to him. His mind was pounding as he focused to try and remember anything. He remembered the chopper ride and the attack and then it was like a blurry dream of ripping threw people, and eating them. He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it, but went with it and moved out to recon the area; he was a scout after all. In his observations he set up shop in a library and began reading anything and everything he could to catch up on what had happened – almost everything produced nothing, the more important intelligence came from random survivors and newspapers floating past him. He quickly learned of his new surroundings in Malton, realized he was far from any Fort that would be looking for him – if they were even concerned with war criminals at a time like this.
  He began stockpiling any and every weapon he could find Getting back into his groove his first kills were a bit sloppy and sporadic; but he soon fell back into his niche of death and embraced it fully. Minimizing his arsenal down to a select few favored devices. He watched as all of the survivors went back to everything he hated; their weaknesses, their pathetic comforts, always wanting help, a hug, some warm place to sleep – it was always something; always making everything so damn bright. He fell back to guerilla tactics of attacking hard, fast, and destroying infrastructure to the survivors – after all; the zombies really were not bothering him that much and when they did, respectfully, they were made to suck start a shotgun.  He began to have an almost megalomania-cal worship of himself, death, and destruction – only seeking to cause pain to others, and maybe find and ear or two on the way to add to his necklace (it matched his newly found Hawaiian T-shirt nicely).
  Having grown into a hardened killer and survivalist of Malton he sought more direction, the random chaos was as alluring as always be he needed drive – a mission. He found it in the form of Legends of Darkness; joining the ranks of those as mentally stable and blood thirsty as he was – he had found a new unit within this torn city that was his new home. He serves LOD until his final death with the utmost loyalty as fierce shock troop, not favoring any single method of killing – but just enjoying each act of ending the life of a survivor, zombie, or really anyone that looks like they might make a good coat of paint for any random wall.

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‎	Player Killer
	"One kills a man, one is an assassin; one kills millions, one is a conqueror; one kills everybody, one is a god." This user is a PKer and supports the act of Player Killing.

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	Proud member of LoD
	This user is proud to be a Pker/Zombie of Legends of Darkness!

	PK Count
	SergeantSadist has PKed 28 people.

	Report Me!
	This user is an evil PKer. To punish me: report my kills on the Rogues Gallery!

	Death Cultist
	If you strike me down, I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.

	Trigger Happy
	This user has guns. Do not cross them.

	Kill All Pigs!!!
	This user is a cop killer.

	American
	This user is American.

	Right to bear arms
	This user supports the Second Amendment.

	Hell
	This user is going to Hell.

	Fair Tactics Player
	This user has signed the Coalition for Fair Tactics Player Pledge.

	Fire is Pretty
	This user thinks that fire is pretty.

	Violence is quicker
	Both diplomacy and violence solve problems. But violence is quicker.

	Pain Is Money
	This user's job takes blood and guts in the most literal sense possible.

	Dont do it.
	Dont try to kill every zombie, you wont win.