07-24-2017, 09:12 PM
Illusion, or something else? Somerled stared intensely at the spot the gunslinger had been not moments before. As soon as Jim’s grip on the tricky skeleton had let up, it just up and disappeared. No flash of light, no smoke and mirrors, it had just gone. If that was another one of its fancy tricks, then killing it was gonna be one hell of an ordeal. The monster frowned, following after the armored soldier as he started forward again. His eyes quickly scanned over the quickly-dissolving labyrinth. At least now, with ceiling being devoured by the void, they didn’t need to worry about its silly wall-walking.
The storm spirit pushed on, driving his legs just a bit faster and catching up with his lumbering ally. He pulled his still-bleeding hand out of his pocket, and knocked his forearm against Jim’s metal shoulder. The soldier shot him a quick glance, and Somerled gestured towards the monkey still slung over his shoulder with his mangled stump. Take him.
Jim raised an eyebrow, and the spirit let out an exasperated sigh. He dropped Sun from his right shoulder, carefully maneuvering him to his left side, and held the lazy monkey against his side and in the crook of his elbow. With his good hand now free, he pretended to do a little quick-draw with it. Gunslinger. Then, with a small snap of his fingers he wreathed his hand with weak lightning and threw a fake punch. The deaf spirit thought the message was clear. Jim would hold onto Sun and the next time their relentless adversary showed its face, he’d hit it with a lightning strike.
It’s fast. Somerled mouthed the words, twisting his lips with exaggerated movements in an effort to make his message as clear as possible. He lifted his hand up again, another silent bolt of lightning flaring to life with a snap, and mouthed, I’m faster.
Jim nodded, and offered up his shoulder. The monster ungracefully hoisted Sun up and onto his ally, carefully keeping his balance as he tried to run and swing around a rather heavy lump of meat. You’re not making this easy on us... he thought to himself as the monkey was roughly switched from Somerled to Jim. I can see why wounded soldiers are more expensive than dead ones though.
Something brown flashed in the corner of the spirit’s eye just as the swap finished up. Their friend, one step ahead as always, blocked their only way out of this endless hallway. Jim’s arm swung out as he lumbered to a halt, shield unfolding just in time for the quadruple barrage. Somerled shifted to the side, barely managing to squeeze himself behind cover before the hail of lead started. The heavy smell of gunpowder burned through the air, and each little explosion disturbed the corridor, the only signs the spirit was able to use to tell that the gunfight had started.
Somerled’s good hand shot to his pocket for a moment, searching for his trusty bullwhip, before he stopped himself. He only had one hand to hit with, and he couldn’t hit with it if he was carrying the whip. Jim started forward again, pressing on through the gunslinger’s barrage. Even if its endless suppressing fire wouldn’t harm them behind the soldier’s shield, it was slowing them down, forcing them to take their time. And the slower they went, the more likely that the abyss would catch up.
The mouth of the hall drew slowly nearer as the trio marched on, and the spirit knew the time was near. He spared a quick peek around the side of the shield, using the moment he had to estimate the distance, and ducked back in before an errant bullet took his head off. His left arm tapped against Jim’s side again, prompting the soldier to turn to him, and he mouthed a quick order. Aim for its legs. The armored man nodded, and the monster grinned cheerfully, falling back a step and dropping into the classic sprinter’s pose. The first little spark of electrical adrenaline coursed through his body, and he shoved forward with a powerful kick.
The monster sprinted forward, dodging around the side of the shield just as the gunfire let up, baring his teeth in a menacing smile as he stared down the gunslinger. Their skeletal adversary discarded its empty guns in a panic, arms racing into its cloak, and its foot sliding backwards. A fountain of blood erupted from that leg, and the gunslinger wobbled to the side, mouth wide open in a silent scream. Somerled was upon it in a moment, his arm drawn back exaggeratedly. All four of the darkling’s arms flashed up to protect its face and chest, still empty, as its own well-being trumped the need for weapons. The storm spirit shifted his stance immediately, throwing all his weight onto his right foot as he slid to a halt.
A brilliant flash of lightning illuminated every corner of the corridor as his left foot slammed into the gunslinger’s right knee. Somerled gritted his teeth as the bones of his feet cracked even beneath the thick padding of his boots. The dusty darkling was thrown head over heels as its legs were torn out from beneath it. Dust exploded up from the floor as it collapsed, covering the entire labyrinth in a thick, irritating cloud. Somerled reeled back, the airborne grit scratching at his eyes and lungs, and blinked furiously, trying to get it all out before his enemy tried something else tricky. His vision cleared up quickly, along with the air, revealing only a trail of blood leading further away from the trio, and a leg, severed at the knee, lying on the ground.
Somerled eyed the severed limb curiously as he stepped towards it, doing his best to ignore the stabbing pain in his foot with every step. He leaned over and picked it up off the floor, before turning to his allies and presenting it to them with a grin. The gunslinger wouldn’t be doing much running now.
The storm spirit pushed on, driving his legs just a bit faster and catching up with his lumbering ally. He pulled his still-bleeding hand out of his pocket, and knocked his forearm against Jim’s metal shoulder. The soldier shot him a quick glance, and Somerled gestured towards the monkey still slung over his shoulder with his mangled stump. Take him.
Jim raised an eyebrow, and the spirit let out an exasperated sigh. He dropped Sun from his right shoulder, carefully maneuvering him to his left side, and held the lazy monkey against his side and in the crook of his elbow. With his good hand now free, he pretended to do a little quick-draw with it. Gunslinger. Then, with a small snap of his fingers he wreathed his hand with weak lightning and threw a fake punch. The deaf spirit thought the message was clear. Jim would hold onto Sun and the next time their relentless adversary showed its face, he’d hit it with a lightning strike.
It’s fast. Somerled mouthed the words, twisting his lips with exaggerated movements in an effort to make his message as clear as possible. He lifted his hand up again, another silent bolt of lightning flaring to life with a snap, and mouthed, I’m faster.
Jim nodded, and offered up his shoulder. The monster ungracefully hoisted Sun up and onto his ally, carefully keeping his balance as he tried to run and swing around a rather heavy lump of meat. You’re not making this easy on us... he thought to himself as the monkey was roughly switched from Somerled to Jim. I can see why wounded soldiers are more expensive than dead ones though.
Something brown flashed in the corner of the spirit’s eye just as the swap finished up. Their friend, one step ahead as always, blocked their only way out of this endless hallway. Jim’s arm swung out as he lumbered to a halt, shield unfolding just in time for the quadruple barrage. Somerled shifted to the side, barely managing to squeeze himself behind cover before the hail of lead started. The heavy smell of gunpowder burned through the air, and each little explosion disturbed the corridor, the only signs the spirit was able to use to tell that the gunfight had started.
Somerled’s good hand shot to his pocket for a moment, searching for his trusty bullwhip, before he stopped himself. He only had one hand to hit with, and he couldn’t hit with it if he was carrying the whip. Jim started forward again, pressing on through the gunslinger’s barrage. Even if its endless suppressing fire wouldn’t harm them behind the soldier’s shield, it was slowing them down, forcing them to take their time. And the slower they went, the more likely that the abyss would catch up.
The mouth of the hall drew slowly nearer as the trio marched on, and the spirit knew the time was near. He spared a quick peek around the side of the shield, using the moment he had to estimate the distance, and ducked back in before an errant bullet took his head off. His left arm tapped against Jim’s side again, prompting the soldier to turn to him, and he mouthed a quick order. Aim for its legs. The armored man nodded, and the monster grinned cheerfully, falling back a step and dropping into the classic sprinter’s pose. The first little spark of electrical adrenaline coursed through his body, and he shoved forward with a powerful kick.
The monster sprinted forward, dodging around the side of the shield just as the gunfire let up, baring his teeth in a menacing smile as he stared down the gunslinger. Their skeletal adversary discarded its empty guns in a panic, arms racing into its cloak, and its foot sliding backwards. A fountain of blood erupted from that leg, and the gunslinger wobbled to the side, mouth wide open in a silent scream. Somerled was upon it in a moment, his arm drawn back exaggeratedly. All four of the darkling’s arms flashed up to protect its face and chest, still empty, as its own well-being trumped the need for weapons. The storm spirit shifted his stance immediately, throwing all his weight onto his right foot as he slid to a halt.
A brilliant flash of lightning illuminated every corner of the corridor as his left foot slammed into the gunslinger’s right knee. Somerled gritted his teeth as the bones of his feet cracked even beneath the thick padding of his boots. The dusty darkling was thrown head over heels as its legs were torn out from beneath it. Dust exploded up from the floor as it collapsed, covering the entire labyrinth in a thick, irritating cloud. Somerled reeled back, the airborne grit scratching at his eyes and lungs, and blinked furiously, trying to get it all out before his enemy tried something else tricky. His vision cleared up quickly, along with the air, revealing only a trail of blood leading further away from the trio, and a leg, severed at the knee, lying on the ground.
Somerled eyed the severed limb curiously as he stepped towards it, doing his best to ignore the stabbing pain in his foot with every step. He leaned over and picked it up off the floor, before turning to his allies and presenting it to them with a grin. The gunslinger wouldn’t be doing much running now.
Quote:1012 words.
![[Image: ZpWQiiu.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/ZpWQiiu.gif)