Julia’s confusion agitated her anxiety as one of the people in front of them started uttering some nonsensical words in a voice that was hoarse and just seemed wrong to her somehow. What the fuck is going on? she thought.
Then, a huge explosion on another part of the island made Julia jump. She flinched for a second, ducking down and covering her ears, heart pounding. However, she almost immediately stood back up, and for a moment she stared at the enormous plume of fire and smoke that was rising up in the distance. Then her eyes caught sight of the two people in front of them, with their cold dead skin, the creepy way that the light hit their eyes, and the bloody body lying next to them. Whatever they were, they weren’t human.
Before her brain had been able to fully process all of this, the shock wave from the explosion hit them, at the same time the figures in front of them started charging at them. Julia stumbled backward as Carl fired off a shot and yelled at them to get back inside the building. Julia immediately whipped around and sprinted as fast as she could back towards the cabin, seeing Catarina enter the house, quickly followed by PJ. She saw him turn towards her, and she ran faster in order to catch up with him.
When they’d all made it in through the doorway, she turned around and poked her head outside to make sure that Carl was following them.
Tequila Skies, Gray Goodbyes
night, day 3, open
Moderator: SOTF U Staff
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Spindarene
- Posts: 252
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 11:34 pm
Adrenaline and hunger propelled the two Revenants through the snow, faster than their prey could flee back into the wooden building behind them.
They were only slowed by the sound of gunfire, and the sight of their iridescent blood once again staining the snow.
Cleaver didn't mind. It was a shallow wound, and he didn't know pain that wasn't hunger.
They'd nearly made it to the building when the last of the humans dove inside.
Both ran at full-tilt towards the door, briefly forcing it open before the group inside forced it closed. Cleaver brought his weapon to bear, driving it into the thick planks several times. It tore small gouges in the wood, but to little effect.
Axe shot him a glare, still pushing against the door.
The other side. She signed.
Cleaver nodded, and withdrew his weapon from the door. Axe continued to push against it, her enhanced strength nearly matching that of the group inside as her companion moved to encircle them.
PJ came first, followed by Julia. The crunches of snow were followed by the thuds of wood and Catarina almost had her saw ready until she saw it was Carl who was jumping the distance, not...them.
But they weren't far behind - as the door began to close, held by the others, she saw a flash of white at the doorway, and she saw how close they were, faded skin able to flake through the doorway and give her dandruff. But this was a party, and those things outside were Michaele Salahi - they weren't getting in. If things had gone on another second, Catarina's grip would have loosened and she would have found the trigger, but halfway towards that the door closed, and things were alright again, just for a second.
At least until the crunch and the tear of an axe hitting wood.
Catarina, without a care for what could have been on it, grabbed the table she'd maimed all those hours ago, toppled it over and pushed it towards the doorway, flat facing the wall. It was wide enough to form a barrier, and that's what mattered right now, putting enough distance between Michaele Salahi and the people that mattered. The trembling must have been from the cold, because she was too busy to be scared. She'd always been too busy to be scared, it was just how you had to live when you were rich enough to get revenge on, but here she actually meant it. Within moments, she collapsed to the floor, pushing her full weight against the table.
She couldn't even tell what everyone else was doing, if they were doing anything. The only things that existed right now were the monster outside, the table, Catarina, and the tight plastic grip that was ready to vibrate her latent hives back into the real world. She mouthed 'help me' because her lungs were too burnt to scream it.
But they weren't far behind - as the door began to close, held by the others, she saw a flash of white at the doorway, and she saw how close they were, faded skin able to flake through the doorway and give her dandruff. But this was a party, and those things outside were Michaele Salahi - they weren't getting in. If things had gone on another second, Catarina's grip would have loosened and she would have found the trigger, but halfway towards that the door closed, and things were alright again, just for a second.
At least until the crunch and the tear of an axe hitting wood.
Catarina, without a care for what could have been on it, grabbed the table she'd maimed all those hours ago, toppled it over and pushed it towards the doorway, flat facing the wall. It was wide enough to form a barrier, and that's what mattered right now, putting enough distance between Michaele Salahi and the people that mattered. The trembling must have been from the cold, because she was too busy to be scared. She'd always been too busy to be scared, it was just how you had to live when you were rich enough to get revenge on, but here she actually meant it. Within moments, she collapsed to the floor, pushing her full weight against the table.
She couldn't even tell what everyone else was doing, if they were doing anything. The only things that existed right now were the monster outside, the table, Catarina, and the tight plastic grip that was ready to vibrate her latent hives back into the real world. She mouthed 'help me' because her lungs were too burnt to scream it.
Carl had hopped through the doorway just before it closed.
He glanced around the room to do a quick headcount. He was the last one in-
Good, now avenues of entrance and exit, doorway behind him;
Movement.
Catarina pushed a desk into the door, and Carl immediately turned to help.
For now the door was the main entrance, the things outside were trying to get in that way, and he knew Catarina couldn’t hold it alone. If bullets just pissed those things off then-
Carl ran forward, pushing his body into the desk. He took a breath, needed to pass word. He turned his head towards the group as he pressed his back into the desk, trying to get a count of windows or entrances besides the door.
“Okay, I just fuckin’ hit one of those things with a round and I think it just pissed them off!”
He glanced around, trying to catch his bearing. He went from nearly freezing to death back to trying to lead another group of his classmates out of the fire.
“Uhhh; uhh fuck it! If they get in, battle stations, give ‘em all you got! I don’t think they’re in the mood for hostages, so shoot those fuckin’ things like you would the spider-bear!”
The worst part of an ambush was being on the back end of one.
He glanced around the room to do a quick headcount. He was the last one in-
Good, now avenues of entrance and exit, doorway behind him;
Movement.
Catarina pushed a desk into the door, and Carl immediately turned to help.
For now the door was the main entrance, the things outside were trying to get in that way, and he knew Catarina couldn’t hold it alone. If bullets just pissed those things off then-
Carl ran forward, pushing his body into the desk. He took a breath, needed to pass word. He turned his head towards the group as he pressed his back into the desk, trying to get a count of windows or entrances besides the door.
“Okay, I just fuckin’ hit one of those things with a round and I think it just pissed them off!”
He glanced around, trying to catch his bearing. He went from nearly freezing to death back to trying to lead another group of his classmates out of the fire.
“Uhhh; uhh fuck it! If they get in, battle stations, give ‘em all you got! I don’t think they’re in the mood for hostages, so shoot those fuckin’ things like you would the spider-bear!”
The worst part of an ambush was being on the back end of one.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 900
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 1:59 pm
- Location: In Her Dark Abyss
PJ had to make sure not to freeze on the spot. He had to stay calm, even if he was panicking on the inside and he wanted to hide in a corner. He had to be braver. Like the others right now. He needed to keep his mind at a steady, levelled pace.
"Alright, alright." He muttered to himself quietly, looking right at the door and he licked his lips slightly. "Focus, PJ, focus..."
He was trying to hype himself up. Even if his stomach was flip-flopping with a few waves of nervousness.
He needed to be ready for a showdown.
"Alright, alright." He muttered to himself quietly, looking right at the door and he licked his lips slightly. "Focus, PJ, focus..."
He was trying to hype himself up. Even if his stomach was flip-flopping with a few waves of nervousness.
He needed to be ready for a showdown.
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Spindarene
- Posts: 252
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 11:34 pm
Julia pushed against the desk with Catarina and Carl, but her limbs felt like jelly and she felt like no matter how hard she tried to push, the strength had left her body and nothing she was doing was really making any difference.
She heard Carl say something about "battle stations," and for half a second she wanted to laugh. Battle? She'd never been in a physical fight in her life and it sounded like guns just made those things angrier, what the fuck was she supposed to do with the stupid Chimera spine in her hand if guns didn't work?
However, she still kept pushing against the desk with the others. They weren't giving up, so neither would she. She heard PJ muttering to himself, trying to hype himself up, and she looked over at him and gave him a nod that she hoped was encouraging.
She heard Carl say something about "battle stations," and for half a second she wanted to laugh. Battle? She'd never been in a physical fight in her life and it sounded like guns just made those things angrier, what the fuck was she supposed to do with the stupid Chimera spine in her hand if guns didn't work?
However, she still kept pushing against the desk with the others. They weren't giving up, so neither would she. She heard PJ muttering to himself, trying to hype himself up, and she looked over at him and gave him a nod that she hoped was encouraging.
Cleaver trudged through the snow, looking for another entry point to the cabin. Light poured through gaps in the old wood, weathered and dry from years of exposure. One of the panels seemed to be almost giving way, with claw marks indicating a wild animal had attempted entry at some point.
He adjusted his grip on his weapon, and took a few short breaths. After winding up, he propelled himself forward into the wall of the cabin and burst through, showering wood splinters in all directions, including into his own skin. As soon as he had made it through, he began swinging the blade in broad arcs towards the nearest human.
—
The sound of wood snapping and giving way was Axe’s cue. She followed her companion’s example, and put as much force as she was capable into shoving open the door. With some effort, the disruption from the other side enabled her to push through; she delighted in the carnage, and dove aggressively towards her prey.
He adjusted his grip on his weapon, and took a few short breaths. After winding up, he propelled himself forward into the wall of the cabin and burst through, showering wood splinters in all directions, including into his own skin. As soon as he had made it through, he began swinging the blade in broad arcs towards the nearest human.
—
The sound of wood snapping and giving way was Axe’s cue. She followed her companion’s example, and put as much force as she was capable into shoving open the door. With some effort, the disruption from the other side enabled her to push through; she delighted in the carnage, and dove aggressively towards her prey.
The crunching almost hastened as Catarina continued to push against the table. At some point, it was going to stop. Whether that stopping meant the monsters were getting bored and decided to leave, or because the door wasn't going to exist soon, she didn't know. Sometimes, you were too busy to be scared, and that was her. There was bravery inside Catarina, sure, but a lot of that was gone now that she heard that these things could get shot and still be doing this. Thanks, Carl. She needed to hear that. Really made her feel powerful, especially considering the very explicit not-a-gun she had in her hands.
If she just sat here, if she just held the door, if she just kept the only entry point in here covered like she was, everything would be fine. Everything would be fine. Carl got the message, Julia too. PJ, well, she'd only know him a day and she wasn't surprised at what was going on him with him right now, but that was something she could be angry at later.
Later probably wasn't going to exist, though, since the wall behind PJ burst open, and one of the monsters appeared with a cleaver. She looked at Carl for what to do, his focus was on the door.
The monster swung.
She looked at Julia for what to do. She hadn't moved.
The monster swung again.
Catarina looked at PJ. Within that moment, she dropped her saw, and began scrambling forward, away from the barred doorway and towards the other two. As he began his next swing, she started turning those scrambles into steps, gaining some speed in the process. She saw that third swing, headed straight for PJ's upper body, and she felt her calves twitch as she put all her energy into bursting forward, straight into PJ, grabbing him in her arms and twisting him away. She felt his feet leave the floor, and soon hers followed.
But before that, she saw the cleaver in the dim light, heading towards the two of them. Sometimes, Catarina knew some of the things she did in life were stupid, mostly because she had a long life of mistakes to learn from. But even with that long life behind her, when she saw the cleaver swinging towards the two of them, she still stuck out her hand, and that's when she felt the cut near the top of her palm, and part of her glove flick off into somewhere else.
And that's when Catarina and PJ tumbled into the small remainder of her clothing pile, sitting in the corner, unused by Carl hours ago. She was taking big breaths, but she could feel PJ still moving, and that was the important part.
"Are you alri-"
When she pulled back her hand from PJ's back, she saw a trail of blood join it. Her stomach fell, because even though she didn't particularly like him, he still didn't deserve to get massacred like some cheesy slasher movie from her childhood, kitchen utensil and all. But that blood was from her hand.
Catarina wasn't wrong in her feelings before. She'd definitely felt a cut. As she saw the blood gush forward from the wound on her right hand, painting the palm of her glove, she realized her palm hadn't just been cut. In fact, she could see quite well what had happened, because part of her glove had been ripped off by the cleaver.
In fact, more than just part of her glove had been taken by the cleaver.
Catarina began to scream, not just looking at the blood, but eyes locked onto the smooth, slanted stump that used to be her index finger.
If she just sat here, if she just held the door, if she just kept the only entry point in here covered like she was, everything would be fine. Everything would be fine. Carl got the message, Julia too. PJ, well, she'd only know him a day and she wasn't surprised at what was going on him with him right now, but that was something she could be angry at later.
Later probably wasn't going to exist, though, since the wall behind PJ burst open, and one of the monsters appeared with a cleaver. She looked at Carl for what to do, his focus was on the door.
The monster swung.
She looked at Julia for what to do. She hadn't moved.
The monster swung again.
Catarina looked at PJ. Within that moment, she dropped her saw, and began scrambling forward, away from the barred doorway and towards the other two. As he began his next swing, she started turning those scrambles into steps, gaining some speed in the process. She saw that third swing, headed straight for PJ's upper body, and she felt her calves twitch as she put all her energy into bursting forward, straight into PJ, grabbing him in her arms and twisting him away. She felt his feet leave the floor, and soon hers followed.
But before that, she saw the cleaver in the dim light, heading towards the two of them. Sometimes, Catarina knew some of the things she did in life were stupid, mostly because she had a long life of mistakes to learn from. But even with that long life behind her, when she saw the cleaver swinging towards the two of them, she still stuck out her hand, and that's when she felt the cut near the top of her palm, and part of her glove flick off into somewhere else.
And that's when Catarina and PJ tumbled into the small remainder of her clothing pile, sitting in the corner, unused by Carl hours ago. She was taking big breaths, but she could feel PJ still moving, and that was the important part.
"Are you alri-"
When she pulled back her hand from PJ's back, she saw a trail of blood join it. Her stomach fell, because even though she didn't particularly like him, he still didn't deserve to get massacred like some cheesy slasher movie from her childhood, kitchen utensil and all. But that blood was from her hand.
Catarina wasn't wrong in her feelings before. She'd definitely felt a cut. As she saw the blood gush forward from the wound on her right hand, painting the palm of her glove, she realized her palm hadn't just been cut. In fact, she could see quite well what had happened, because part of her glove had been ripped off by the cleaver.
In fact, more than just part of her glove had been taken by the cleaver.
Catarina began to scream, not just looking at the blood, but eyes locked onto the smooth, slanted stump that used to be her index finger.
With the breaking of the wall, Carl had turned around to ready a shot. He paused, with the momentum, and his allies, it was far too risky to even consider taking the shot, so what would he d-
Door broke down behind him. He turned, only to get socked in the side of the head by the desk barreling down towards him, jostling his glasses half off his face. There were two of them, of course the other one took the door. They were humanoid, they were smart-
Fucking kill!
Carl brought his arms up, punching the barrel of his rifle into the axe as it was the only thing between him and it splitting his melon in two. The creature's swing had force, strong enough to push back against him, even with him punching into it, strong enough to stumble him back.
The creature pulled back and swung again, as Carl punched his rifle towards the axe once more to block it. Even prepared this time, it was clear this thing was stronger than him, but still he pushed against it. He wouldn't let it in. He heard screaming behind him, and he turned his head to glance- stupid mistake he knew better- and turned back, as the thing hissed in his face, and socked him right in the nose, sending him reeling back.
Senses shocked, he only just registered the axe swinging horizontally at him as he ducked it, and shot himself up. He felt like his nose was running but he could smell the iron, he knew what it did- He brought his elbow up, and slammed the butt of his rifle into the enemy's face. There was a lull as it turned away from the impact. When it looked back at him, it's nose was also bleeding.
Carl sniffed as his own blood dripped down onto his 'stache. He laughed in the creature's face as it swung once more. It was a desperate noise, one of equal parts audacity of the situation, pure hopelessness, and the little bit of comedy of it all.
"C'MON, MOTHERFUCKER!" He screamed.
Door broke down behind him. He turned, only to get socked in the side of the head by the desk barreling down towards him, jostling his glasses half off his face. There were two of them, of course the other one took the door. They were humanoid, they were smart-
Fucking kill!
Carl brought his arms up, punching the barrel of his rifle into the axe as it was the only thing between him and it splitting his melon in two. The creature's swing had force, strong enough to push back against him, even with him punching into it, strong enough to stumble him back.
The creature pulled back and swung again, as Carl punched his rifle towards the axe once more to block it. Even prepared this time, it was clear this thing was stronger than him, but still he pushed against it. He wouldn't let it in. He heard screaming behind him, and he turned his head to glance- stupid mistake he knew better- and turned back, as the thing hissed in his face, and socked him right in the nose, sending him reeling back.
Senses shocked, he only just registered the axe swinging horizontally at him as he ducked it, and shot himself up. He felt like his nose was running but he could smell the iron, he knew what it did- He brought his elbow up, and slammed the butt of his rifle into the enemy's face. There was a lull as it turned away from the impact. When it looked back at him, it's nose was also bleeding.
Carl sniffed as his own blood dripped down onto his 'stache. He laughed in the creature's face as it swung once more. It was a desperate noise, one of equal parts audacity of the situation, pure hopelessness, and the little bit of comedy of it all.
"C'MON, MOTHERFUCKER!" He screamed.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 900
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 1:59 pm
- Location: In Her Dark Abyss
PJ should have expected the unexpected.
He turned towards the one enemy that had managed to smash it's way through the wall and he heard the swooping of a blade getting swung again and again, making him move backwards slightly. He still had a grip on his gun and he knew that he was would have to try to-
He never got the chance to do any of that.
"Ark!!" Was all that he could say when he was roughly spun around and tumbling into a pile of clothing. Catarina had just saved him from getting a fatal slash from the strange attacker with a cleaver.
He needed a moment.
But then he heard Catarina scream when she was trying to ask him something. That was when he noticed the blood.
Red, red, red.
Her finger....
"Holy shit." He murmured in disbelief and he rolled himself away from Catarina slightly, keeping an eye on the one with the cleaver.
He then raised the gun with shaky hands and tried to steady it, hoping to keep calm. Even if he was screaming on the inside.
A gunshot went off from his weapon, hoping to hit the monstrous being with the cleaver in hand.
He turned towards the one enemy that had managed to smash it's way through the wall and he heard the swooping of a blade getting swung again and again, making him move backwards slightly. He still had a grip on his gun and he knew that he was would have to try to-
He never got the chance to do any of that.
"Ark!!" Was all that he could say when he was roughly spun around and tumbling into a pile of clothing. Catarina had just saved him from getting a fatal slash from the strange attacker with a cleaver.
He needed a moment.
But then he heard Catarina scream when she was trying to ask him something. That was when he noticed the blood.
Red, red, red.
Her finger....
"Holy shit." He murmured in disbelief and he rolled himself away from Catarina slightly, keeping an eye on the one with the cleaver.
He then raised the gun with shaky hands and tried to steady it, hoping to keep calm. Even if he was screaming on the inside.
A gunshot went off from his weapon, hoping to hit the monstrous being with the cleaver in hand.
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Spindarene
- Posts: 252
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 11:34 pm
Everything happened in an instant.
Julia whipped around as she heard the wall break, and saw Catarina tackle PJ to the ground as the monster with the cleaver attacked them. She was just about to go help them when she felt the door break right behind her, and as she instinctively turned around to try to push it shut again, she saw Carl get punched in the face by the monster that was now forcing its way inside the door.
She stood there for a moment, frozen, as it swung its axe at him and he dodged it–-barely. As if in slow motion, she watched it swing its axe at Carl once more as he laughed in its face, and something inside her snapped.
“No!” she shouted, and as if her limbs were acting on their own, Julia leapt forward and plunged the Chimera’s spine as deeply as she could into the monster’s back.
Julia whipped around as she heard the wall break, and saw Catarina tackle PJ to the ground as the monster with the cleaver attacked them. She was just about to go help them when she felt the door break right behind her, and as she instinctively turned around to try to push it shut again, she saw Carl get punched in the face by the monster that was now forcing its way inside the door.
She stood there for a moment, frozen, as it swung its axe at him and he dodged it–-barely. As if in slow motion, she watched it swing its axe at Carl once more as he laughed in its face, and something inside her snapped.
“No!” she shouted, and as if her limbs were acting on their own, Julia leapt forward and plunged the Chimera’s spine as deeply as she could into the monster’s back.
Axe forced her way through the door, doing her best to shove aside her opponent’s attempts to block her entry. The handle of the axe buckled against her grip, and it felt liable to snap if it connected with the gun again.
It was difficult to maneuver in this space, her efforts made clumsier still by the chaos of her companion crashing through the rear wall of the building. She smelled - no, tasted the blood in the air from the wounds they had inflicted. It wasn’t enough. She thought of cutting them all open, of lying in the pool of warm gore and falling into a deep sleep while the cold winds raged outside.
Clinch it. You’re not as gassed as they are.
Carl was the opponent. Carl was the one they were supposed to kill, above all others.
He’s on the card. They’re not.
Whatever that meant. Axe shoved her way through, swinging and missing again at the human. She howled with rage, a scream coming out instead of what she knew would’ve been words. Insults. Badgering.
Fuck up. Make a mistake. Once we’re on the ground, it’s over.
What would they win? She felt like it should’ve been money. They could buy more food, with money.
There was an opening, and she flipped the ice axe around, holding the spike in a shorter grip. Everything in her wanted to bury it in Carl’s skull, but was stopped by the icy-cold sensation of a sharp spike plunging into her back.
Axe snarled, and pivoted on her heel to send a well-aimed kick directly into her attacker’s chest.
Roundhouse. It’s called a Roundhouse.
—
The scent of blood filled the air. Cleaver craved the sensation, although the parts of him he recognized as his own almost felt a revulsion. An incitement to violence that wasn’t just hunger. Something more, distant and removed from what he was now.
The target, Carl Kowalski, was fighting back with a ferocity Cleaver felt like he recognized. The movements were frantic, but practiced. The use of the rifle as a weapon, the way he knew exactly how to snap into a state of extreme violence more than the rest of them had.
Cleaver waited for an opening, watching as Axe tried and failed to land a strike with her weapon.
It was an exhilarating experience; almost like Cleaver craved the sensation of this kind of person trying to attack him. Cleaver couldn’t help but let out an excited hiss, moments before the Marine’s arm collided with his face.
What’s a Marine?
The taste of blood in his mouth was unfamiliar. Metallic in a way blood wasn’t supposed to be. Cleaver wiped his face with a free hand, and caught sight of it - the color was off, unlike the liquid spurting from the woman’s hand nearby. Why had it taken so long to notice? Axe was injured now, too. The human had stabbed her with something he didn’t recognize.
Answers could came later. They all had to die, he had his orders. Carl beckoned, and Cleaver answered by raising his blade and-
*BANG*
The sound of the Kalashnikov in a small building - in a raid - it brought something back. A name, different than the word that meant his weapon, or the number they’d given him.
Lieutenant jerked violently, an unconscious response to the brand-new gunshot wound in his abdomen. The pain spiked only momentarily, and then stopped. The one with the gun was just out of reach, and it was surprising he hadn't hit Carl.
Know your target and what's behind it, kid.
Why did he remember that? The cleaver slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground nearby. Carl’s next strike was fast approaching. Lieutenant instinctively fell into a fighting stance, ducking a jab and returning the favor with a punch to the midsection. His stance was no longer feral, it was - practiced. This wasn’t the first time he’d fought against someone like this, he realized. A feint, which Carl over-committed in response to. Trying to hit the gunshot wound. Lieutenant blocked, and countered with a right hook.
It used to be that a wound like the new hole in his gut would’ve put him down. He’d seen people bleed out from it. He’d seen it so many times. Once Carl was down, the kid with the Kalashnikov was next. Had to be, or they wouldn't make it out alive.
Lieutenant manoeuvred for a hip toss, trying to get Carl off of his feet. It occurred to him he didn’t have to settle for something so limited. Catching the Marine’s knee and grabbing hold of his neck, the Lieutenant lifted Carl off of his feet, spun, and threw him hard into the nearby wall.
It was difficult to maneuver in this space, her efforts made clumsier still by the chaos of her companion crashing through the rear wall of the building. She smelled - no, tasted the blood in the air from the wounds they had inflicted. It wasn’t enough. She thought of cutting them all open, of lying in the pool of warm gore and falling into a deep sleep while the cold winds raged outside.
Clinch it. You’re not as gassed as they are.
Carl was the opponent. Carl was the one they were supposed to kill, above all others.
He’s on the card. They’re not.
Whatever that meant. Axe shoved her way through, swinging and missing again at the human. She howled with rage, a scream coming out instead of what she knew would’ve been words. Insults. Badgering.
Fuck up. Make a mistake. Once we’re on the ground, it’s over.
What would they win? She felt like it should’ve been money. They could buy more food, with money.
There was an opening, and she flipped the ice axe around, holding the spike in a shorter grip. Everything in her wanted to bury it in Carl’s skull, but was stopped by the icy-cold sensation of a sharp spike plunging into her back.
Axe snarled, and pivoted on her heel to send a well-aimed kick directly into her attacker’s chest.
Roundhouse. It’s called a Roundhouse.
—
The scent of blood filled the air. Cleaver craved the sensation, although the parts of him he recognized as his own almost felt a revulsion. An incitement to violence that wasn’t just hunger. Something more, distant and removed from what he was now.
The target, Carl Kowalski, was fighting back with a ferocity Cleaver felt like he recognized. The movements were frantic, but practiced. The use of the rifle as a weapon, the way he knew exactly how to snap into a state of extreme violence more than the rest of them had.
Cleaver waited for an opening, watching as Axe tried and failed to land a strike with her weapon.
It was an exhilarating experience; almost like Cleaver craved the sensation of this kind of person trying to attack him. Cleaver couldn’t help but let out an excited hiss, moments before the Marine’s arm collided with his face.
What’s a Marine?
The taste of blood in his mouth was unfamiliar. Metallic in a way blood wasn’t supposed to be. Cleaver wiped his face with a free hand, and caught sight of it - the color was off, unlike the liquid spurting from the woman’s hand nearby. Why had it taken so long to notice? Axe was injured now, too. The human had stabbed her with something he didn’t recognize.
Answers could came later. They all had to die, he had his orders. Carl beckoned, and Cleaver answered by raising his blade and-
*BANG*
The sound of the Kalashnikov in a small building - in a raid - it brought something back. A name, different than the word that meant his weapon, or the number they’d given him.
Lieutenant jerked violently, an unconscious response to the brand-new gunshot wound in his abdomen. The pain spiked only momentarily, and then stopped. The one with the gun was just out of reach, and it was surprising he hadn't hit Carl.
Know your target and what's behind it, kid.
Why did he remember that? The cleaver slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground nearby. Carl’s next strike was fast approaching. Lieutenant instinctively fell into a fighting stance, ducking a jab and returning the favor with a punch to the midsection. His stance was no longer feral, it was - practiced. This wasn’t the first time he’d fought against someone like this, he realized. A feint, which Carl over-committed in response to. Trying to hit the gunshot wound. Lieutenant blocked, and countered with a right hook.
It used to be that a wound like the new hole in his gut would’ve put him down. He’d seen people bleed out from it. He’d seen it so many times. Once Carl was down, the kid with the Kalashnikov was next. Had to be, or they wouldn't make it out alive.
Lieutenant manoeuvred for a hip toss, trying to get Carl off of his feet. It occurred to him he didn’t have to settle for something so limited. Catching the Marine’s knee and grabbing hold of his neck, the Lieutenant lifted Carl off of his feet, spun, and threw him hard into the nearby wall.
Even when PJ returned to the fray, Catarina's screaming didn't stop. Her newly four-digited hand shook as the blood flowed freely, covering what remained of her glove and the smell of copper serving a no-knock warrant on her nostrils. The pain decided to visit, pulsing with each beat. It was incomparable, especially in Catarina's life. The worst thing she'd felt in the past few years was when she sat down too fast in bed and her back muscles hurt for an hour. The worst thing she'd felt in her life used to be when she accidentally walked barefoot through glass after a night out. Now, that memory was gone, by the last fifteen seconds.
She was fully aware that she couldn't stay here, screaming. But she stayed screaming, even when the fighting started up again. The two grey people behind her hand were still going to kill them, but Catarina could literally see inside herself. Every time she tried to see what was going on, her heart beat again, sending another spurt of blood down her palm. She had to look away. She had to look away. If they were going to survive this, she needed to be among them. She needed to help. She needed to do something.
She wanted to find her finger, the one which had flown off somewhere into the cabin. It was cold, didn't that mean they could save it? Catarina wasn't someone who could go back to her old life with only three fingers and a thumb, so there was no question - she was going to have to save her finger. In the brief few moments she was able to tear her vision away from her hand, she could only see a swing, a kick, all at the people still in the fray.
The last time she managed to stop looking, she saw her handsaw, sitting by the remains of the table where she'd been sentinel.
Memories returned, of only hours ago, pretending she knew what she was doing with that, getting some swings in on the table. She'd read the manual, only a few times. That thing could cut cement.
Before the terror gripped Catarina again, she scrambled along the floor through the fray, back to her weapon, and felt its grip in her hands again.
She was fully aware that she couldn't stay here, screaming. But she stayed screaming, even when the fighting started up again. The two grey people behind her hand were still going to kill them, but Catarina could literally see inside herself. Every time she tried to see what was going on, her heart beat again, sending another spurt of blood down her palm. She had to look away. She had to look away. If they were going to survive this, she needed to be among them. She needed to help. She needed to do something.
She wanted to find her finger, the one which had flown off somewhere into the cabin. It was cold, didn't that mean they could save it? Catarina wasn't someone who could go back to her old life with only three fingers and a thumb, so there was no question - she was going to have to save her finger. In the brief few moments she was able to tear her vision away from her hand, she could only see a swing, a kick, all at the people still in the fray.
The last time she managed to stop looking, she saw her handsaw, sitting by the remains of the table where she'd been sentinel.
Memories returned, of only hours ago, pretending she knew what she was doing with that, getting some swings in on the table. She'd read the manual, only a few times. That thing could cut cement.
Before the terror gripped Catarina again, she scrambled along the floor through the fray, back to her weapon, and felt its grip in her hands again.
As Carl once again flew through the air, a few thoughts had hit him. One, was that one of those things fought like he did, but better; definitely better.
Two, was that this was turning out just like when they fought the chim-
World black.
Silence.
Something underwater, distant. Screams, he recognized screams. Gunshots. Those weren’t as distant.
His eyes opened once again as he took in a deep breath, one that hurt his back, his ribs, and everything in between.
Where was?
Blurred vision looked around, couldn’t see shit, vision weren’t clearing- concussed?
He took another breath.
No, just couldn’t find his glasses. He saw shapes, movement, human bodies fighting human bodies-
Remembered.
Get them out of here, you owe it.
Couldn’t read, couldn’t recognize faces, but he knew who was who. Knew the monsters, knew his allies.
Couldn’t find his gun.
Could find axe.
Crawl. Grab.
Kill.
Two, was that this was turning out just like when they fought the chim-
World black.
Silence.
Something underwater, distant. Screams, he recognized screams. Gunshots. Those weren’t as distant.
His eyes opened once again as he took in a deep breath, one that hurt his back, his ribs, and everything in between.
Where was?
Blurred vision looked around, couldn’t see shit, vision weren’t clearing- concussed?
He took another breath.
No, just couldn’t find his glasses. He saw shapes, movement, human bodies fighting human bodies-
Remembered.
Get them out of here, you owe it.
Couldn’t read, couldn’t recognize faces, but he knew who was who. Knew the monsters, knew his allies.
Couldn’t find his gun.
Could find axe.
Crawl. Grab.
Kill.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
-
Primrosette
- Posts: 900
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 1:59 pm
- Location: In Her Dark Abyss
PJ took a breath. It was still almost hard to breathe.
He had hit the one with the cleaver and he watched the weapon drop.
Good. Having that weapon out of the way was better than more people getting sliced and diced.
PJ needed to make another move. He noticed the strength of those creatures and they needed to be stopped completely. He couldn't be fearful anymore.
Just do what's right, PJ. You need to help everyone now.
He aimed his gun right at the one who had lost the cleaver and he pulled the trigger.
Again and again and again and again.
There was no holding back anymore.
He had hit the one with the cleaver and he watched the weapon drop.
Good. Having that weapon out of the way was better than more people getting sliced and diced.
PJ needed to make another move. He noticed the strength of those creatures and they needed to be stopped completely. He couldn't be fearful anymore.
Just do what's right, PJ. You need to help everyone now.
He aimed his gun right at the one who had lost the cleaver and he pulled the trigger.
Again and again and again and again.
There was no holding back anymore.