I am currently a rookie author just trying to scratch into the e-book websites as I love writing and typing stories and the prospect of the internet and the fact that you can now freely share your ideas and stuff.
Just for the record, see below, I do have Warhammer armies and plenty of them, but this is just some workings of fiction I've done.
Critiques and reviews and whatnot please do, 'cause I really want to make these things better!
Enjoy
Blood & Silver Book 1: Shadow Walker
The cage door swung open.
Fifteen groups made it through the murderous Gladiatorial round to make it here. Fifteen groups had sacrificed everything for their final death wish; the Freedom Run. Only one group can make it through.
And the others must die.
Priatare leapt out of the metal cage and roared, shaking the Earth, his three horns gleaming angrily. He unsheathed his two-handed hammer and charged through the desert. His twin was right at his tail; Machaera spun his tri-blade over his head and overtook his twin brother.
Walkers were gathering, their groans and roars heard far away.
Oh Oraera.
Three Walkers made themselves known right in front of the twins, and were quickly dispatched to the centre by a twirl of the Tri-Blade.
The other mesh cages opened and the other groups burst out, roaring and screams filling the air.
Khaos, a thing not male but not necessarily female, drifted out of the cage to the left like a dream and before everyone’s eyes sent his twin swords through the back of one of the other groups and then twirled the bloodthirsty swords out of the fresh corpse and they were plunged straight through the head of an enraged Gorilla of a man, sending him to the centre along with the other guy.
I lunged out of the cage and sprinted to help the Triperior twins in their bloody melee with some Walkers, feeling my Romanian Laser Gun banging against my back that I won back in the Flag Round, which was only for emergencies.
The twins were too busy fighting the Machine of Walkers in the forward they forgot their flanks, in which the Walkers started to close in a noose formation. I unsheathed my two 12’ Inch Shivs and they found their way into a Walkers head, its veins spraying me like a fountain. It collapsed as I pulled out my Rusty knives. I turned around to hear a growl.
A monstrously hairy creature towered over me and roared, but it turned into a blood clotting gasp and it tumbled to the floor, narrowly avoiding me.
“Hail Slaenzsh!” Maelstrom hissed through her Vampiric fangs, the evening sun glinting on her fangs as she pulled her moonstone knife out of the small of the beasts back.
I bounced over her and plunged my ever thirsting blades through another mutant’s eye, blood bursting from the vulnerable socket and soaking me. I held in an urge to vomit because with my empty stomach I couldn’t afford to waste.
“Come on, we’ve got to get out of here!” I screamed at the top of my voice and I caught the eye of Machaera, who nodded.
The stench of rot started to fill the air and I gagged as I sprinted.
I heard a scream somewhere to the west of me and regretfully turned my head in that direction. The farthest group was getting ripped apart by a huge hoard of Walkers.
I gulped and pumped my legs harder, lest those Walkers overwhelm us.
Going into the city wasn’t the safest plan ever, but we couldn’t work out a plan of attack in the cage, so the plan was suicide.
An Ork Raider ran ahead of me. He’s not getting to the Safe Point.
I threw one of my Shivs through the back of him and kept running, leaving the blade behind.
No time.
My tattered cloak flew in the slight breeze.
I leapt over some piled up debris of a wrecked building.
But I did something wrong…
I felt Gravity do its ever faithful work of bringing me back to the Earth and my feet hit the ground.
But I felt a sharp pain flying throughout my head and cried out, the pain intense and I was suddenly falling…
I woke to a distant scream and bolted upright instantly, ignoring the pain throughout my wiry frame. My eyes flashed open to behold a dark wrecked corridor, the pollution terrible.
I heard a tear through the air and ducked, hitting the floor.
“I’m dry!” Echoed a foreign voice through the corridor, but I didn’t care. If this was hell, then I preferred it here.
Brother.
Peaceful sleep started to embrace me, my vision starting to go black and blue, with hints of green.
A painful slap awoke me from my daze and my darkened vision cleared to reveal a familiar face. “Stay wid’ me yer’ Soma Brygonian!” A roar invaded my eardrums.
My brain suddenly kicked into gear and I bolted upright, my hand going to my belt and the Shiv found its way into my grazed hand.
My sharp pain came aching back and I groaned again, sucking in a breath.
I staggered to my feet, wincing in pain. I put my knife in an arc in front of me, my small sword finding flesh and a gurgling howl escaped its lips.
I fell to the floor to be caught by the swift pose of Maelstrom, who then helped me get back to my feet.
It was quiet.
A fire started growing and the whole group gathered around it, warming their bodies.
“Are we safe?” I groggily asked after a while to the resting Maelstrom on my shoulder. My love.
“As safe as we can be.” She replied and I caught her drift. She lifted her head and our lips collided and sparks ignited, and I’m not talking about the fire.
In our world, life is short and bloody and you had to make the most out of it as possible.
Too bad for us, huh?
“Oi, quit yer’ little tongue dance, ‘cause we’re got ‘dem Walkers hea’n this way!” Machaera nodded grimly, his Tri-blade hanging off gruesome trophies.
“Shizanhower.” I cursed and got to my feet.
Khaos was up in an instant, and I think under that Iron Mask of his, he was grinning with glee, which unsettled me.
He mumbled something in an ancient and unspoken language that made my hairs stand on end. He uttered the final words with something like ‘Heil Gnorhnekh.’
“They’re blocking our entrance as well.” Priatare muttered, cursing loudly. Blood was matted on his Hammer.
I think Khaos had his throat ripped out as a child, but his pure black eyes that showed through the mask had a gleam to them, but not a word was uttered.
“Let’s just smash through them!” Priatare grinned evilly.
“Suicide and I prefer to get to the LZ in one piece. No, the only solution right now is to get to the High Ground.” I nodded weariness overtaking me. “Then we can get some rest.”
But my mind was somewhere else.
Murderer, thief, liar, disgrace.
Brother.
Bandits.
Kidnapped.
I grimly tied everything down tightly onto me, no need to attract any more attention from the Walkers than necessary.
It was going to be a long night…
I was leader by default ever since our whole group was smashed apart in Round 2, losing our leader and his whole posse of Successors. Khaos was thought to be lost until he appeared out of nowhere.
Wait…
I quickly snapped my head from side to side, my heart doing flips.
“Where’s in Khazlid is Khaos?” Priatare asked, wary. He read my thoughts exactly, and after what happened in Round 1, where he killed four members of our own group because they were helping in a melee with him. The only reason we’ve kept him is because he was a really good fighter.
“Gnorhnekh be cursed, Khaos was here a minute ago.” Maelstrom cursed loudly. Khaos, Maelstrom and I shared in the same religion, where there were five Gods: Slaenzsh, God of Trickery and Deceit, Gnorhnekh, God of War and Death, Oraera, Overlord God and God of Time, Space and Darkness, Brood the God of Plague and animals, and finally Lumières, the God of Wisdom, Life and Knowledge. There are other smaller Gods in the Religion, but these are the main five Gods that are worshipped. I look to Oraera as my idol, Maelstrom Slaenzsh and Khaos; he’s part of the Gnorhnekh Cult.
The Triperior however, they’re the mystery. Since their Civil War, where half the planet went to worship Khaos, our cult, and the other half went to the Cult of Darkness, which was led by an Ancient no less, a man who had re-plants into him before the Age of the Messiah which imbued him with Supernatural Powers and Immortality, so they say. But of which religion they come from, I have not yet deciphered.
“Gods be cursed, get the hell down!” I hissed violently at the Twins, who instantly shut up their bickering and stared on, their weapons ready.
We have been hearing these strange groans since we lost trail of Khaos and they were getting stronger, the inhumane throats obviously are probably following us.
I saw Machaera wince slightly in pain and concern wrote itself into my brain.
No, this can’t be.
“It isn’t, just a fleshy ‘s all.” He grumbled slightly.
I shook my head of any horrible thoughts and started to think of a rag-tag plan. When we first got to this position we saw a Rival Group heading for the same place we were to go, but they stepped on a Trigger-plate somehow and a Daemon Engine appeared from thin air, a Machine with a furnace in it, mainly used for melee combat or smithing. It absolutely ripped apart the entire group in seconds.
Forget it.
“Stay in tight formation, we’ll have to go through the hoard. We’ve got a better chance to survive that than we do the Living Furnace.” Maelstrom whispered to the group. They all nodded and we closed in a tight box formation; Priatare leading, Maelstrom and I at the two points and finally Machaera at the end.
We were perched atop a scrap pile with a wall of a building still left standing, probably a barracks or some kind of temporary set up, because it was made from smelting at a fast pace, the walls highly stretched out. We were at a hang overlooking our safe haven, probably only a hundred meters away and yet so far.
“We can’t afford the distraction, not with the other teams. No, the only way is forward!” Priatare nodded and despite himself, he grinned happily.
I sighed internally. Why does this have to be so hard?
“I don’t Szarching like it, but he’s right my love.” Maelstrom nodded silently.
I knew this was coming, I just Shizanhowing knew it.
“I’ll do it.” Maelstrom hissed sadly and my heart died.
Not her.
Not after what happened to my brother.
“No I’ll do it, you guys go on!” I slammed my fist into the ground and hissed in pain as my knuckles started to bleed.
At this moment, I think my life’s a joke. One big sadistic joke set up by the Gods to laugh at me. So I’m going to rub it in their faces and sacrifice myself for my friends. Or maybe that will just make their sides split open from all the laughter.
All this point in time, Machaera looked extremely in pain and grim. Then he piped up.
“I’ll do it.” He muttered.
Wait.
“No brother you’re making a mistake!” Priatare cried out a bit too loudly.
“Please brother, let me die honourably as Father would have it. I am a Triperior and I cannot live with the shame anymore.” He took away his hand from his right shoulder-blade to reveal a deep bite mark.
This can’t be.
It hit all of us like a bombshell. Their race, the Triperior, was some of the toughest nuts in the Galaxy and to think that a Walker no less took him down with only claws and teeth…
We’ve lost 29 of our number already, I don’t want to lose another one, but I nodded in understanding. We’ve lost two of our best killers to the Walkers this round; I don’t want to lose Priatare who was also brimming in tears.
They clapped hands and he nodded to me.
“There’s an entrance through the other side. I’m going to lead them into the trap, go into the rear of them and keep going.
It was a Triperial tradition to sacrifice themselves for the Greater Good as they call it, one I would never have thought I would ever see.
Machaera unsheathed his Tri-Blade and a pair of knuckle dusters which I saw before now and jumped over the cliff to land at the bottom, roaring and kicking up sound as he approached the now shambling pack of Walkers.
I stared on in awe as Machaera twirled the blade over his head in one hand, catching three Walkers at once in the deadly twirl and the knuckle dusters fused into a giant metal shield. The whole hoard was stumbling after him, groaning and moaning the whole way.
There were hundreds of the undead.
“Let’s go now!” I hissed and pulled out my last remaining Shiv. “No shots unless necessary.” I whispered as an after-thought.
We creeped around the hoard, careful not to cause any more noise than necessary and slowly the hoard thinned.
“That building is our best option!” I whispered and they nodded. The Walkers lines had thinned from a hundred every meter to only a couple and I was confident we could get through them.
We slid down as one and full on sprinted for the next scrap pile. My heart started pumping, my breathing heavy.
The Walkers slowly wheeled around at us. Priatare gave a roar and five Walkers became pulp to his hammer. I stabbed at the nearest Walker, impaling the beast in the eye and kicking it off my blade. Another went to kill me but didn’t get far before a crossbow bolt went through its skull. I nodded to Maelstrom.
We ran off the street, Priatare smashing Walkers that came to close apart.
We scrambled up the piles through the darkened corridor.
Bad News was… We attracted the Walkers.
We sprinted through the corridors as one, the humanoids at our heels.
We got to the end and appeared ten meters from the LZ.
I ran down the scrap pile, but gravity had other ideas. I tripped on a piece of metal and Mother Gravity threw me back into the bottom. I shielded my head as I hit the ground, hissing in pain as it lacerated my whole arm.
I staggered to my feet, ignoring all the pain and focusing on my goal. Brother.
My arm hung limp and started to go numb in the pain and I groaned in pain. I grabbed the Shiv I dropped and started sprinting through the small pack of Walkers that Priatare was smashing apart with his two-handed hammer.
Maelstrom glided past me, leaving dead everywhere.
I limped ahead on my one good foot and stabbed at a Crawler.
I heard a scream behind me and regretfully turned my head, hoping to the Gods that it wasn’t what I thought it was.
Our luck had run out.
I grabbed the faraway Priatare by the shoulder.
“Look at me, look at me!” I yelled into his ear. The Triperior turned his head to look at me, tears flowing down his face.
“He died for us, so let’s not make it in vain.” I stared him down. He nodded grimly and with a turn of his back another five Walkers had been pulped.
But he was slowly faltering, his brain in memory lane.
And the Walkers... Started Running.
Impossible.
They were slowly gaining on us, stumbling while trying to go faster.
My feet were swept from under me and I hit the floor, groaning.
And it was there, teeth bared in an evil grin.
Its head exploded in a bloody firework, splattering me with gore.
“Get up, we ain’t losing you now!” Barrelled Priatare. I quickly scrambled to my feet, ignored the pain in my left ankle, and sprinted to the field.
I was thrown a meter into the air and landed on soft Earth, sandy and clean.
A burning smell emitted from all around me and an electrical shield blazed behind us.
We had made it.
I saw Maelstrom smile at me and I limped over to her, returning the favour.
We embraced each other and smiled in relief.
Electrical energy burst out as Walkers started frying against it.
Oraera, I thank you.
The only thought I had on my mind was Brother.
Finally, after all these years, my toiling and hardship would end. All the thievery and murdering for him would end and I can now save my brother. I can finally, with my team behind me, take revenge on those bastards that made him a slave and demanded money for his freedom.
“We did it, we’re finally free!” I smiled, exhaustion overwhelming me.
“Signis Lapsus, we’re finally free.” Maelstrom laughed. We embraced each other in passion, laughing into each other’s shoulders. I heard in the distance the crackle of the Electro-fields frying the starved Walkers.
I opened my eyes, feelings overwhelming me.
But the dawn of the day was interrupted once again by an electrical crackle and it unveiled something I never wanted to see again.
A black costume clung to the figure and a Grim Reaper mask hid its features. A long over-flowing cape bristled in the stale air, its red trim casting a long shadow over the figure. The only thing under that mask to see was pure black eyes and bits of its sickly pale skin.
Khaos.
I quickly broke off the hug.
“No.” I muttered.
I tried to throw her out of the way in the darkness.
I was too late…
Two shining blades slid through her chest, sticking out of her silently. She was sent to the centre before she hit the ground.
“NO!” I cried as I stood there stunned.
My Shiv found its way into my only good hand.
The Centre is when I stop.
Pain is weakness leaving the body.
Revenge.
I snapped my head around to the barrier to see Khaos laughing and muttering, standing on a titanium box and threw one of those blood thirsty blades through the hull.
There was just dawn. No electric field, no barrier against the Walkers and their meat.
I gulped.
Chaos couldn’t describe what happened next.
Walkers, now sensing that our haven was broken, stumbled through the Haven gates and other monstrosities burst in with them.
I was at once limping to the tin box as the ships called, but Khaos beat me to it.
He’s not getting away that easily.
I stabbed through the eye of a Walker and limped at a more energetic pace to the ship, my only hope for saving my Brother.
The Bridge was slowly rising up.
Sprint!
I glanced back to catch the eye of Priatare who simply nodded grimly and it said; Kill the Traitor, before he turned back and crushed another Walker beneath his feet.
I now had nothing to lose.
Khaos must die!
Final Days:
I ran as fast as I could, my Lahr semi-automatic rifle feeling heavy on my shoulder. My heart was pumping, threatening to burst out from my chest. My boots pounded against the barren landscape. The bullets screamed past me and I kept my head down, holding a hand to my helmet. How did I get into this damned mess!
“We have come for you! Help us!”
No time to think about that now! I jumped over a mutilated corpse that was still bleeding over the muddy ground and tumbled into a hole. I shuddered as the ground shook violently and un-strapped my rifle, unloading the clip and pounding in a fresh clip, flicking off the safety. I took off my helmet, wiping off the sweat on my forehead. I glanced at my shoulder and pressed the wound. I hissed in pain and put my helmet back on. I got comfortable and unslung my rifle, putting it on my lap. I looked up to the lip of the fox-hole and saw a glimmer of metal. gak!
I grabbed the outdated bucket of bolts and swung it to the edge of the cliff, careful not to cause more pain to my shoulder. I need a medic. “I’m Resistance! Soldier… Uh…” I quickly looked at the grime covered tattoo on my forearm. “634! 6...3…4!” I yelled out.
I took cover behind a small patch of cover the dusty crater would allow me. I moved forward cautiously, careful not to make too much noise which was easy to do. I only had my combat knife which had yet to see blood and my rifle with its last clip in and my helmet.
“Di… Ya…. R… at?” I could just make out over the screaming shells of death. Another shudder jarred my spine but I ignored it, focus! Three men tumbled down into the crater.
“Come out Yer’ Bloody Panzer!” A man yelled not a metre from me.
Now or never. I jumped up quickly, rifle cocked and quickly trained onto three raggedy assed Resistance soldiers. Evidently they were from another planet to me, their thick accents probably pointing towards one of the twelve regiments of Mars. I kept my rifle trained. Train Company of the planet Jupiter was killed by HISDS assassins. “Code!” I shouted behind my rifle butt, clicking the safety off. The soldiers turned around in horror, hands in the air.
“I said CODE!” I yelled as another missile crashed into the shattered Earth. I shuddered.
I was suddenly on the ground, a combat knife of similar design to my own on my neck. “We got a Panzer Boys! Haha! You thought you could kill us did you? Really I should slit your throat right here, what do yer’ think boys?!” The man yelled cockily over the shells.
“Remember Red Leader, we’re suppost’ to take der’ prisoners!” A man to the left called out. Yep, he’s definitely from Mars, probably from the Rust colony.
“No y’all got it all wrong, Ah’m bloody Carrion!” They stared back at me. “My code is 634!” I felt myself choke, no sweet fresh air coming into my lungs. I was afraid to even gulp the knife was so close to piercing my skin, but it was hanging limply in a madman.
Red Leader pressed the knife closer to my throat and I grunted as it bit into my soft grubby flesh, beads of crimson blood dribbling down my throat.
“You will fight until death, the virtues of Courage, for Honour and for duty…”
“Who was the master of the fifth regiment, who?!” He shouted directly at me.
“Uhh… Cameron James, Cameron James!” I shouted desperately.
He drew back his knife, wiping my blood onto his jacket and held a hand out. I took it.
“Sorry mate can’t be too careful.” He explained.
“Show your tags!” The man on the right shouted, still not trusting me. I grabbed my dog-tags out and showed him. He looked at me and nodded. I put them back.
“What company ‘r y’all from?” I shuddered as a bomb crumpled straight into the ground not twenty meters from us.
“We’re from Second Company Second Squadron.” It is a very funny thing what Hannibal Spartacus did. He mocked the whole system and won many a battle by it. A company equals a regiment, a squadron a battalion or Centurion and a regiment is the individual squadron.
“Ah’m from First Company Fourth squadron.” I explained, slinging my gun over my shoulder and sat in the scorched earth, the cold air slowly sucking the body heat from me, but I didn’t care.
“Ya’ an Original eh?” The one on the left asked.
I nodded grimly. Since the Omsk Massacre, there are few of us left. Some of the last of us were killed here, our bodies buried in the sands of the Desert of death, or Southern U.S.A. I was really the only one left that I know of. The last Avenger.
I heard a faint ringing sound and looked over to see the man pull an antenna from his pack and laid it on the ground, and I realized what it was. It was a Long Range Scanning Audio Transmitter that was used to send around a long message of code that only resistance could understand the few of us left that is. The man put on a pair of headphones and a speaker and listened in.
After an hour the man snapped out of it. “Well boys, that’s the signal. The Resistance is launching a full scale invasion and we’re to be part of it. They think we’re fully armed and so we’re movin’ out.” The man said grimly.
I got up from the floor, my back and sides aching and my head pounding and my stomach rumbling. The medic had fixed my shoulder up and moved it back and forth, the bandages already a dark bloody colour. “Ok, we are they?” I asked.
“Here’s the catch.”
“Always the bloody catch.” Exclaimed Red Leader.
“The advance is behind enemy lines. We have to get there before we’re killed!” We all shuddered as another missile crashed into the ground.
“Well let’s get on with it, when’s the-.” but I heard the signal before I could say it. “Ah, we’re screu’ed.”
“I guess that’s the signal then.” Red Leader grimly muttered. I heard the thousands of voices lift in the air, and felt it. So this is what bliss is…
“For the Resistance!” I bellowed out and scrambled up the meteor, the people in the crater beside me screaming the same phrase. The Panzers kill us; well it’s time to get revenge for what they did to us!
I sprinted as fast as I could the barrage of missiles, the scream of machine gun rounds and the whines of the dying far away. They will pay!
I stumbled back, my momentum and all thoughts lost. The sounds returned to me. I felt my eyes go dead, my lids getting heavy. Scarlet, warm liquid pushed through my throat and escaped down my chin. I fell to my knees, my energy drains. I looked down to my body, opening my blood soaked hands.
Death.
The wound was terrible, but yet I felt no pain. My knees gave out and I fell to the earth, but felt peace at last, but something was missing.
I failed. The resistance is dead, NATO has destroyed them. The originals have faded away, and soon the Resistance will follow. The battlefield faded, the earth slowly swallowed me up, and my vision became dark.
NATO has won….
And Finally an Excerpt from a story previous done.
Death is only the Beginning:
“The death is only the beginning! Next we will bring justice to the world and peace. A few souls will have to die but we will take our place back as the Kings of the Earth!” Bjorn dreamed.
“Well, may I interject?” Michael sarcastically jumped in.
“Are you going to grovel and accept our superiority?”
“It’s something not that.”
“Well go on, let’s see how horrible your deaths going to be.”
“Well, you see you haven’t killed me yet, which is not going to do you any favours…” He pointed out sarcastically.
“True, but I want you to be there to see the final analysis, to witness what it’s like what your ancestors did to me!” He cackled.
“Well, whatever these Alphas are it won’t stop me from putting your head on a pike.” He cocked his head and breathed.
The two guards holding him fell back and suddenly he could feel power beyond the lifeline flow into him and he looked at his hands, the power flowing through it. A fire burned through his soul. “It’s Time to die.”
He spread his arms out suddenly and snapped his palms and fire-balls flew out each hand. He stood up and out of nowhere a revolver appeared in his hands and it was humming with a purple haze. He aimed down the sights and pulled the trigger. The pistol fired but no sound was made. A flaming bullet burst out of the barrel, whizzing forward. It impacted and suddenly exploded into an inferno, capturing every being within its fiery gaze.
The air suddenly shimmered and out of nowhere, the air took form into a being and then began to take form, flesh flaying onto the air. Michael aimed again as he glanced back to the man who suddenly shimmered into being.
“Alphas!” The Elf hissed that single word and his heart fluttered. My own being, he thought.
“Alphas.” Erik hissed violently. No my plan is falling apart, he raged within his mind.
His plan was falling apart. The thing he made so delicately and planned so long was beginning to unfold. But it’s too late.
I have already won, he prided himself.
The gust of wind took form high into the air, debris being flayed off the house and into the lights grasp.
Just a little more time, hold in there beasts and men!
He stalked up to the boxes and was sent reeling. “No, this can’t be happening!” He raged, lifting his head and cursing the gods.
“NO!”
He turned around quickly, fire in his eyes, Joanna on the floor, bleeding from half a dozen differing places, moving slowly away from him. “See what you have done! I have planned this for years, carefully interweaving every single fibre of this plan. And you spit in the face of your new master by opening the boxes! You disgrace me mortal!” He shouted, tears pricking at his eyes. He stormed over to the helpless girl and kicked her in the stomach and she groan, a wave of satisfaction washing over him.
“See what you have done, you will pay for this woman!” He bellowed and kicked her again, most of the sides of the abandoned house taken with the gust.
She folded and spat out blood. “You will never win Elf.” She hollered weakly as she spat out blood.
“You don’t think so eh? Well let’s just see about that, the zenith is almost at hand and the ritual will soon be complete. My army will take care of your little friends and I will become the grand ruler of the Earth!” He grinned sadistically.
“The end is near, mark my words Ms Smith, you will soon bow down to the real superior race!”
“Hello brother, great to see you have back-up!” A voice re-sounded from the trees as a human swung out of the trees, landing on the balls of his feet and simply plunging a hidden knife into the nearest animal. Michael turned back to come face-to-face with a black robed hooded figure wielding two knifes. He came at me and I just pulled the trigger. The gun spat out another inferno bullet and it engulfed the surprised figure and the figure disappeared in a whirl of fire. He stepped over the end result and ran up to the nearest beast, a Minotaur with a giant hammer, who was aiming straight for a downed brother Alpha.
He grabbed the beast and wrenched the thing around. The thing stopped in mid-air, the hammer only hitting dead ground. Michael stepped back and pulled the trigger on the revolver. The inferno hurt his eyes but he could survive.
He grabbed the downed and dazed brother and pulled him to his feet. But as the man opened his mouth, blood frothed in his mouth and he collapsed on him. Michael threw the corpse to the ground and saw the massive bloody hole in the middle of its chest. He focused his attention and didn’t dwell on the past. Another inferno blew and suddenly he was in a straight path to the damned elf, the one who started this.
“Well I’m going to finish him.” And he sprinted through the gap.
Erik Bjorn stared down at the furious charge of the Alpha below him. “It is Time to end this once and for all.” He muttered. The moon is at its zenith and with that the birth of the New World.
He stalked down, a blade appearing suddenly in his hands. Elfish made of course, the best metal available to them with the sharpest edge ever made and a curve that could cut through anything with ease, even tanks and yes, that was field tested.
The man was carrying a giant bladed bayonet and in his pocket, a glowing revolver. “You are going to die Bjorn!” He bellowed, oblivious to the battle behind him and the slowly breaking apart shack.
“That’s Tough words for a man who will soon grovel to me and my superior race. The clocks ticking my friend and it will soon begin. The New Elfish World will rise!” He promised loudly and proudly.
“Not if I can help it my friend.” HE sarcastically spat out and charged at him. How dare he think I’m a mortal!
He swung the bayonet and met the cold steel of the Elfish blade, and shattered.
He cursed and instantly pushed back out of the way of the elongated sword as Bjorn swung. He hit fresh air but pushed forward the attack.
But then heroes never play fair do they.
As the elf got him into a fevered battle rage, the dodging and ducking Michael pulled out a revolver. “Now, as you were saying my friend?” He asked and fired point blank. The inferno bullet found its mark and the elfish blade instantly expanded and melted upon impact. The surprised elf dropped the liquid sword with surprise and anger replaced the surprise. How dare he break the ancient sword with that modern technology!
“Let’s settle this like men shall we?” Michael shrugged and threw away the weapon.
The elf got to his feet. “Let’s go then Mr Arthur?” He challenged politely and sprinted forward. He jumped in mid-flight and as he flew towards the stationary but nonetheless ready Mr Arthur.
He swung a punch and dodged to the right and grabbed the Elf’s arm when the in-human landed. He went for a knee jab in the stomach but the elf grabbed the knee with his free hand and threw the Alpha through the wall of the shack, taking rotten timber with him. The elf stalked towards the fallen man and picked him over the debris. “You lose my Alpha friend.” HE tutted but the hero kicks his legs away and suddenly the Elf was on his back, the air knocked out of his lungs.
Michael was suddenly choking him, the little air left in his lungs constricted violently by the hero. “How do I stop it?” He shouted quick and fast to the Elf. The Elf’s lungs were screaming for air.
“It’s…. Too late!” HE choked.
The ground shook and everyone lost their balance. “What’s going on?” Michael asked, releasing his hold on the Elf.
“The end has begun!” He laughed as he stood slowly up, rubbing his neck. The hero walked away, frightened.
The neon beam slammed into the ground and a high-pitched sound echoed throughout the forest. The trees started shaking violently even though there was no wind.
The end has begun here and it’s too late to save the Earth.
Everyone, man or beast, was stepping back, frighteningly staring at the Earth.
Nothing happened.
It failed.
Then the shack exploded in a shower of timber and it was engulfed completely by the Earth, replaced completely by a hollow hole.
And the sound of groaning resounded into the air and everyone looked onto the slowly shambling army crawling out of the hole.
“Come to me my brethren, come! I am your master, you will bow to me!”
Then they realised. Michael tried to summon his force-fields to block the entrance, but there was no power.
“Wait, our powers, and no this can’t be. Why does this always happen to me!” Michael raged on, looking down at his hands in dis-belief.
He grabbed the revolver.
“Wait, no this can’t be!” The Elf shook his head violently, dis-believing as well. Instead of that beautiful composed alive men of the Elfish army he hoped, they were a shambling wreck. Death filled the air, hanging thick. Muscle and skin were hanging off these dead, their clothes in tatters and their faces full of nothing.
“Where are they, where?!” He cried out, scared and tears were flowing freely down his face.
A battered Joanna stumbled out and spat out blood to a dis-believing audience.
“You skipped one part. If you do the ritual you won’t have composed men as they were originally when they were alive, but as they are then. They come as they are when they die. You failed my friend and for that you must die!” She groaned out, defiant but battered.
The elf looked at her and stormed up to her. “You are going to pay for this!” HE bellowed.
“But you forgot one other thing.” Michael resounded behind him.
“What is it now huh?!” He hollered in a sappy voice.
“Your race is extinct!” He bellowed and kicked the Elf. The Elf went flying but landed on his feet and stood up as Michael stormed up to him.
“I’m going to kill you!”
He thrust a knife into the hero but it wasn’t the recent mortal skin that was punctured.
Joanna stumbled out, the knife sticking out of her chest.
The Elf stared eyes wide as the hero smashed the revolver into the soft Elf head and his head cocked back and his body followed.
Into the darkness.
1W OL 1D
) So I'd check that site out as you'll get more help there if you haven't been there already. It's a good site with good folks.
Horn's can gleam, but how do they gleam angrily? Maybe describe his face. Does he had slit eyes? Fangs? A really mean smile? His horns can gleam in the light of the arena, but if you want to show his anger, describe his face as snarling or his eyes filled with fury. Something like that.. He unsheathed his two-handed hammer and charged through the desert. *] His twin was right at his tail; [Semi-colons are tricky as most readers don't understand their use (nor do most writers) and they aren't used much so they stand out. If you use one here and there, no worries but try not to over use it] Machaera spun his tri-blade over his head and overtook his twin brother. Walkers were gathering, their groans and roars heard far away. Oh Oraera. What does this mean? Are they praying to a deity of some kind? Is it just a saying? It lacks a context so it stands out as weird. When using a jargon term, especially one you made up, try to find a way to quickly convey to the reader what it means without dumping it on them.
