01-25-2016, 11:26 PM
Please, for the love of god, stop it. Stop it STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT.
Ballad's eyes were closed, his right hand clamped around his forehead, groaning like a dying animal. Each time an image flashed through his mind, he would flinch and make another noise. The flashes didn't actually give him pain, but it was the nature of them. He could only get brief glimpses of what they all contained, but he eventually noticed a pattern: Snow, Gun, Blood.
Each vision was set in a land of white, with snow falling from the sky and onto the ground. What would occur next would involve some form of a gunshot or him seeing the gun. His gun, which would follow with it being pointed at people and firing. Screams, and the sight of red blood landing on the ground. Limbs flying as explosions erupted; more screams and more gunshots. It was torture of the highest degree. He wailed loudly, thrashing his legs down onto the hard floor as he forced tears out of his eye sockets. Snow, gun, blood. Snow, gun, blood. Gun, blood, gun. Gun, gun, gun, gun, gun, snow, blood, gun. Gunshots. Explosions. Gore. Killing. Madness, insanity! Be free, my disciples! For our God smiles upon us on this day as we rid the world of heretics! But before we begin, we must
pray.
Gunshot.
He expected it to follow with snow. With more bloodshed. But, to his relief, the images had ceased their assault. He remained on his back, having fallen from the mental attacks, his arm outstretched towards the other side of the room. His head rested on the ground, trying to process what had happened to him. It was abnormal. Not even the weird little Desco thing could compare to it. Just the thought of him having found something harder to explain than fucking Desco was more than enough to make him start trembling.
Just to remove the little alien girl thing out of his brain, he lifted his head off of the ground, noticing he had landed on his left arm. He must have landed awfully hard too, as he suddenly found that he could bend it and roll his shoulder against the ground; he grunted in pain as he rolled it against the wooden floor. It wasn't the complete and utter burning, unbearable pain he had experienced earlier, but at least he now knew that his arm wasn't broken and it was actually usable. His shoulder was probably just sore. He probably should've been thankful he could even move his left arm, but evidently what should've been a severe injury wasn't as, well, severe anymore.
The gunsmith sighed, glancing towards the door to the jail cell. Agern had left. He didn't know what the bandit did, but at that point he didn't want to think about it. What he needed to focus on was getting the hell out and getting some weapons.
Gritting his teeth, he planted his right hand on the ground, wobbling a bit as he pushed himself onto his knees. Taking it nice and easy, he stands back up, keeping his left arm near his side. He didn't want to upset anything else in his arm. It had seen enough abuse for more than a few days.
Walking towards the cell, Ballad squinted, taking a look at the inner workings of the lock. It was a combination lock, a surprisingly high tech device for a place like Camelot. It held the door in place, and no amount of shaking could rattle it. He also noticed that it the area the lock was connected to was bolted down by screws small enough to fit a coin in. Regrettably, his fingers would not do. Shaking his head, he started to walk towards the bed when he looked down towards the body in the cell room with him. He moved up to it, bending forward.
It was Tender. It was hard to mask his mustache or his apron, which he had evidently never removed. He reeked of sweat, evidenced by the stains on his armpits and on his forehead. His skin was pale, and it looked like he had been lying there for a while. His eyes were open, and his face looked like he had seen the devil itself. A quick tap on the neck was all the gunner needed to figure out he had died. From what, however, was a mystery.
"Shouldn't have tried to save me, you stupid bastard..." The soldier muttered, moving his right hand over towards his eyelids, sliding them shut. He closed his eyes a bit, lowering his head a bit. He at least had something else to think about, rather than the fact that he was probably going to die soon. Instead, he could focus on at least remembering Tender for something. Namely his bar. It was a good bar. Odd how he managed to win it from a bet. He probably did have proof of it too-
Wait a second.
His eyes shot open, darting down towards the pockets of his apron. His right hand instantly descended upon the corpse, jabbing it into the pockets and grabbing whatever was within. After looting him clean, he clenched his fist, bringing it up to his face. Reopening his hand, he smiled underneath his scarf as he saw what appeared to be five large gold coins. Now he knew exactly what to do.
--------------------
A short time later, Ballad grunted as he thrust one end of the coin into the screw head. He began twisting it to its left, mumbling impatiently to himself as the screw slowly came loose from its socket. He had to remember to be quiet as he pulled the screw out, dropping it onto the floor along with the other three. He cautiously pushed the cell door open, clenching his teeth and looking over towards the exit as it began to creak. He eventually managed to push it all the way out without alerting anyone nearby. Taking a moment to drop the five coins onto the body of Tender, he slowly went onto his knees, crawling forward towards the exit. He smiled as he approached the exit of the jail room.
These bandits are in for a surprise....
Ballad's eyes were closed, his right hand clamped around his forehead, groaning like a dying animal. Each time an image flashed through his mind, he would flinch and make another noise. The flashes didn't actually give him pain, but it was the nature of them. He could only get brief glimpses of what they all contained, but he eventually noticed a pattern: Snow, Gun, Blood.
Each vision was set in a land of white, with snow falling from the sky and onto the ground. What would occur next would involve some form of a gunshot or him seeing the gun. His gun, which would follow with it being pointed at people and firing. Screams, and the sight of red blood landing on the ground. Limbs flying as explosions erupted; more screams and more gunshots. It was torture of the highest degree. He wailed loudly, thrashing his legs down onto the hard floor as he forced tears out of his eye sockets. Snow, gun, blood. Snow, gun, blood. Gun, blood, gun. Gun, gun, gun, gun, gun, snow, blood, gun. Gunshots. Explosions. Gore. Killing. Madness, insanity! Be free, my disciples! For our God smiles upon us on this day as we rid the world of heretics! But before we begin, we must
pray.
Gunshot.
He expected it to follow with snow. With more bloodshed. But, to his relief, the images had ceased their assault. He remained on his back, having fallen from the mental attacks, his arm outstretched towards the other side of the room. His head rested on the ground, trying to process what had happened to him. It was abnormal. Not even the weird little Desco thing could compare to it. Just the thought of him having found something harder to explain than fucking Desco was more than enough to make him start trembling.
Just to remove the little alien girl thing out of his brain, he lifted his head off of the ground, noticing he had landed on his left arm. He must have landed awfully hard too, as he suddenly found that he could bend it and roll his shoulder against the ground; he grunted in pain as he rolled it against the wooden floor. It wasn't the complete and utter burning, unbearable pain he had experienced earlier, but at least he now knew that his arm wasn't broken and it was actually usable. His shoulder was probably just sore. He probably should've been thankful he could even move his left arm, but evidently what should've been a severe injury wasn't as, well, severe anymore.
The gunsmith sighed, glancing towards the door to the jail cell. Agern had left. He didn't know what the bandit did, but at that point he didn't want to think about it. What he needed to focus on was getting the hell out and getting some weapons.
Gritting his teeth, he planted his right hand on the ground, wobbling a bit as he pushed himself onto his knees. Taking it nice and easy, he stands back up, keeping his left arm near his side. He didn't want to upset anything else in his arm. It had seen enough abuse for more than a few days.
Walking towards the cell, Ballad squinted, taking a look at the inner workings of the lock. It was a combination lock, a surprisingly high tech device for a place like Camelot. It held the door in place, and no amount of shaking could rattle it. He also noticed that it the area the lock was connected to was bolted down by screws small enough to fit a coin in. Regrettably, his fingers would not do. Shaking his head, he started to walk towards the bed when he looked down towards the body in the cell room with him. He moved up to it, bending forward.
It was Tender. It was hard to mask his mustache or his apron, which he had evidently never removed. He reeked of sweat, evidenced by the stains on his armpits and on his forehead. His skin was pale, and it looked like he had been lying there for a while. His eyes were open, and his face looked like he had seen the devil itself. A quick tap on the neck was all the gunner needed to figure out he had died. From what, however, was a mystery.
"Shouldn't have tried to save me, you stupid bastard..." The soldier muttered, moving his right hand over towards his eyelids, sliding them shut. He closed his eyes a bit, lowering his head a bit. He at least had something else to think about, rather than the fact that he was probably going to die soon. Instead, he could focus on at least remembering Tender for something. Namely his bar. It was a good bar. Odd how he managed to win it from a bet. He probably did have proof of it too-
Wait a second.
His eyes shot open, darting down towards the pockets of his apron. His right hand instantly descended upon the corpse, jabbing it into the pockets and grabbing whatever was within. After looting him clean, he clenched his fist, bringing it up to his face. Reopening his hand, he smiled underneath his scarf as he saw what appeared to be five large gold coins. Now he knew exactly what to do.
--------------------
A short time later, Ballad grunted as he thrust one end of the coin into the screw head. He began twisting it to its left, mumbling impatiently to himself as the screw slowly came loose from its socket. He had to remember to be quiet as he pulled the screw out, dropping it onto the floor along with the other three. He cautiously pushed the cell door open, clenching his teeth and looking over towards the exit as it began to creak. He eventually managed to push it all the way out without alerting anyone nearby. Taking a moment to drop the five coins onto the body of Tender, he slowly went onto his knees, crawling forward towards the exit. He smiled as he approached the exit of the jail room.
These bandits are in for a surprise....
C&C Thread
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New to OV? Need a question answered? Want a C&C of your work? Send a PM to me!
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