01-31-2016, 11:51 AM
A faint, purplish glow radiated through the entryway of the building as Ballad crawled up to it. The sun was just starting to rise up, a new day beginning. He mentally, albeit sarcastically, congratulated himself for surviving for over a week as he stared out the door. He looked around, remaining low on his hands and knees as he tried to determine how many bandit guards there were.
He didn't have to look for too long. Across from the jail stood a duo of guards, all standing outside and facing out towards him. They both wore brown cloaks, and kept a sword in a scabbard on their waist. Normally, the gunner wouldn't even have had to think in regards to handling them, but he had no weapons. It was suicidal to try and rush them, as they could just as easily dismember him with their weapons. Sneaking wasn't an option either, as the morning sun provided just enough light that it wasn't unlikely he would be spotted upon exiting the building he was in. Ballad slithered towards the wall next to the entrance, planting his side against it as he continued looking out towards the guards, contemplating his next move.
Gun. Snow. Blood. Flashes. More images.
The gunsmith held his left hand up to his forehead, instinctively crying out in pain as his brain throbbed.
“Did you hear that?”
The soldier cursed under his breath, ducking his head behind the wall. A conversation had started between the two, evidently around a noise they had heard. It quickly became an argument. One of them said they should check it out, make sure Agern wasn't killing him. The other said they should stay, and that Agern knew his strength. The green man felt his heart beating rapidly, the tension as thick as ice as he waited.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching. He took in a deep breath, standing up from his spot as he waited for whoever it was to pass through the entrance.
----
Williams swore he had heard something from the jail. Not even Tender's screams were that loud when the leader was taking care of him. This one sounded like he was closer, and no jail cell was that close. He had managed to convince his partner, James, to assist him in investigating. Making sure it was alright. Even if it wasn't, chances are the guy wasn't getting away anyway, what with literally everybody keeping the armory safe.
He sighed, his left hand gripping the hilt of his blade as he walked into the building, turning his head to his left. He never got the chance to react as he felt a hand grip his face, pushing forward and causing him to stumble into his partner. They landed on the ground, dazing them for a few moments.
----
So far, so good... The gunner thought as he charged out of the building, making a beeline for the other building. It was obvious that the building was of importance, as those two were guarding it. As he got closer, he noticed a stack of weapons sitting on a wooden rack; axes, swords, crossbows, and longbows. He quickly moved faster, slipping inside as shouts emerged from the jail.
Ballad quickly ran around the armory, his eyes darting back and forth between racks and over benches. The place was long, and filled to the brim with medieval weaponry, which was making his search extra hard. His forehead began to sweat as more images surged into his mind. He had to find them before anyone got inside. He moved to the end of the building, moving over shelves as he sensed footsteps drawing closer to the building.
Eventually, he found a large, long wooden chest. With not a moment to spare, he slammed his foot against the edge of it, bringing his digits onto the lid, lifting it up. He peered inside, seeing his revolver, flamethrower, single shot, and pickaxe laying inside. He whipped up the revolver just as he heard the clattering of boots on wooden floors, turning towards the noise.
It was the two he had knocked down moments earlier. They had barged in, obviously not intent and allowing him to be a escapee any longer than necessary. As they started to charge, however, their eyes quickly pointed towards the gun in his hand. Looking at each other, they quickly dashed towards a rack of crossbows, swiftly picking up some bolts as Ballad pulled the trigger. The bullet whizzed past them, though it did cause the duo to flinch and cry out.
“MOE! JENSEN! WE NEED HELP IN HERE!” One of them cried out, pulling down a nearby shelf before turning it on its side, crouching down to hide behind it. His partner, however, as not as lucky. As he tried to repeat the action, the gunner's next projectile lodged itself in his stomach. He cried out in pain as blood splashed onto the ground; he held onto his wound, leaning on his hand as he lay on the ground.
“WILLIAMS!” The bandit cried, swiftly lifting his crossbow over the edge of the shelf. He pulled on the trigger, firing a bolt towards the prisoner. The bolt gouged itself into the cobblestone wall, kicking up dust but doing no more than that. Ballad's report was swift, jerking the thumb back and firing towards the shelf as he stuffed his flamethrower into his holster. His left hand went for the single shot, sliding it down his sleeve before finally grabbing the pickaxe.
“WHERE IS HE?!” A loud, monstrous roar shouted from close by.
“Shit...” The gunner muttered, gripping his pickaxe as he ran towards the shelf, his revolver at the ready. Before the man could respond, he set his foot on top of the shelf, kicking up into the air. Turning around, he pulled the trigger, landing on his ass as his opponent's brains splattered the edge of the shelf, smoke billowing out of the barrel of his weapon.
He was just about to get up when he felt a meaty paw grasp the base of his clothes, lifting him up into the air. He glared murderously at his assailant, feeling hot breath on his face as he stared into the eyes of death itself. Death was big, sweaty, and it had wet stains underneath its eyelids that ran down its face, passing over it scars.
“You....YOU!” He bellowed, tossing the prisoner out of the armory and into the ground like a ragdoll a few feet away. Ballad rolled onto his back, pictures rushing into view as he tried desperately to stand back up. He felt himself get lifted off of the ground again, followed by him getting slammed back down. He tried to raise his revolver, only to feel a fist crumple his hand, almost breaking each and every one of his hand's fingers. The bandit's meaty digits accidentally pressed down on one of the green buttons before sending it flying towards the armory.
The prisoner raised his pickaxe, his hand wobbly and his breathing rapid as he swung it onto the behemoths back. The brute simply batted it aside, sending it back onto the ground. He knelt down, bringing his fist down onto the green man's chest. The gunner felt it slam into his chest, his breath knocked right out of him as he looked away from the monster above, protecting himself by raising his arms. He closed his eyes as the bruiser howled, his limbs caving in as they bared his attackers full strength. He slowly opened his eyes, staring right into Moe's. Both contained a glow. A glow any potential fighter possessed. They were both utilizing it, and neither planned on backing down until the other was deader than dead. The pickaxeman gritted his teeth, his arms lowering down to his chest as the barbarian smiled, raising his arms, preparing to vanquish the prisoner. He no longer cared if Agern objected to him dying this way. The cabbage man had killed too many people and done too much to go unpunished. He had been nothing but a cold-blooded gunman who fancied the deaths of all who opposed him, and now it was time he was punished for his actions.
“I'll... gill you.... you ssccuu-”
An explosion detonated a few feet behind the two inside the armory, shrapnel impaling into Moe's back. He screamed, moving off of his bounty as he grasped at his back, trying his damnedest to remove the blades of metal digging into his skin.
The gunner swiftly stood up, fishing his hand into his coat for his flamethrower. Feeling it, he whipped it out, sliding his thumb against the wick holder, igniting it. As Moe finally got finished pulling out the last bit of shrapnel out of his body, he glared at the new weapon in his quarry's hand, seeing the look of utter hatred engraved on his face. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, rage in his heart, he charged forward, forgetting everything around him.
Ballad pulled the trigger, letting loose the flames.
The brute stumbled forward as the fire engulfed him. He shrieked in agony, moving onto his knees as he tried to stand up and at least get one swing in on his attacker. He couldn't let him win. He had done far too much to get away with what he had done. Every movement he made brought unbearable pain as the fire ravaged his form, charring his skin. Blisters appeared on his arms and chest as he took another step forward, every nerve in his body overloading.
He tried to lift his right arm, feeling some of his wounds tear apart, flushing out huge waves of blood before crumbling to the ground, his heartbeat increasing rapidly even as his breathing became shallow. The gunsmith simply stood there, having expended the ammo in his flamethrower, and watched him burn. Watched the psychopathic, monstrous killer burn.
Just as it should be...
Screams emerged from the banks of his memory. His ears starting ringing. He held his hands up to his ears, closing his eyes as he yelled at the top of his lungs. Tears forced themselves out of his eyes as he fell to his knees, his head feeling like someone had crushed it with a sledgehammer. The auditory hallucinations overwhelmed his senses. He couldn't even hear himself beg.
He couldn't even hear the sound of a sword pulled out of its sheath, slicing him across the back. He fell forward, the pain subsiding in his brain, replaced by a more minor one.
----
He trembled, holding the bloodied sword in his hands. Tears streamed down his face as he looked down towards the bloody body beneath him, the gash large. Smoke from the ashen body of the bruiser sailed up into the sky, filling the air with the smell of brimstone and death. The buildings, the grass, and himself. All of it was covered in blood. He could smell it and taste it. Tasted like salt.
He couldn't stop crying. Agern had promised him that this would never happen again. That he wouldn't let anyone do this to him or to anyone else again. He didn't know if Agern was a liar or if he was just plain stupid to think that he should've been believed, but it hardly mattered anymore. This man, who he had risked almost everything on, had killed everyone. It was just him left, and he knew it, but wished he wasn't. Every single person he sent Ballad's way had faced their demise. Everyone except himself. But he didn't want to. He wanted it to be over. He wanted everything to just be back to normal. And maybe, after this, no one else would die. No one else would sacrifice themselves due to his orders.
He took a step back, tightening his grip on his sword as the green monster pushed himself off the ground. He turned around to face him, his pickaxe in both hands, and with a wicked smile on his face.
---------------------------
"S-Stay back, you.. you..." Jensen squeaked, the tip of his sword pointed towards Ballad's chest. The detainee glanced down towards the sword, his back prickling as blood rushed out of the wound. The tactician stabbed forward, the blade sliding into the green man's left arm as it moved to block the sword. The gunner grunted, feeling the cold steel of the blade exit out of his forearm, coating his coat with his own fluids. The green man swiftly brought his right leg up, feeling his foot connect with Jensen's abdomen as he kicked forward. The blade slipped out of his arm, leaving a sizable hole. it stung like hell, but he tried his hardest to focus on his immediate objective. He was not going to let anyone stop him from achieving what he to achieve. Not even the cowardly bandit in front of him.
The partisan shrieked as he landed on his buttocks, swinging his sword in an arc towards the other's chest. The green man simply deflected the attack with the butt of his pickaxe, ramming his foot into Jensen's sword arm. The arm crashed into the ground, his fingers opening up to let go of the sword. The second-in-command could only watch as Ballad raised his pickaxe up into the air, not hesitating to strike.
His death was prevented, however, by a broadsword stuck between him, and oblivion.
He didn't have to look for too long. Across from the jail stood a duo of guards, all standing outside and facing out towards him. They both wore brown cloaks, and kept a sword in a scabbard on their waist. Normally, the gunner wouldn't even have had to think in regards to handling them, but he had no weapons. It was suicidal to try and rush them, as they could just as easily dismember him with their weapons. Sneaking wasn't an option either, as the morning sun provided just enough light that it wasn't unlikely he would be spotted upon exiting the building he was in. Ballad slithered towards the wall next to the entrance, planting his side against it as he continued looking out towards the guards, contemplating his next move.
Gun. Snow. Blood. Flashes. More images.
The gunsmith held his left hand up to his forehead, instinctively crying out in pain as his brain throbbed.
“Did you hear that?”
The soldier cursed under his breath, ducking his head behind the wall. A conversation had started between the two, evidently around a noise they had heard. It quickly became an argument. One of them said they should check it out, make sure Agern wasn't killing him. The other said they should stay, and that Agern knew his strength. The green man felt his heart beating rapidly, the tension as thick as ice as he waited.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching. He took in a deep breath, standing up from his spot as he waited for whoever it was to pass through the entrance.
----
Williams swore he had heard something from the jail. Not even Tender's screams were that loud when the leader was taking care of him. This one sounded like he was closer, and no jail cell was that close. He had managed to convince his partner, James, to assist him in investigating. Making sure it was alright. Even if it wasn't, chances are the guy wasn't getting away anyway, what with literally everybody keeping the armory safe.
He sighed, his left hand gripping the hilt of his blade as he walked into the building, turning his head to his left. He never got the chance to react as he felt a hand grip his face, pushing forward and causing him to stumble into his partner. They landed on the ground, dazing them for a few moments.
----
So far, so good... The gunner thought as he charged out of the building, making a beeline for the other building. It was obvious that the building was of importance, as those two were guarding it. As he got closer, he noticed a stack of weapons sitting on a wooden rack; axes, swords, crossbows, and longbows. He quickly moved faster, slipping inside as shouts emerged from the jail.
Ballad quickly ran around the armory, his eyes darting back and forth between racks and over benches. The place was long, and filled to the brim with medieval weaponry, which was making his search extra hard. His forehead began to sweat as more images surged into his mind. He had to find them before anyone got inside. He moved to the end of the building, moving over shelves as he sensed footsteps drawing closer to the building.
Eventually, he found a large, long wooden chest. With not a moment to spare, he slammed his foot against the edge of it, bringing his digits onto the lid, lifting it up. He peered inside, seeing his revolver, flamethrower, single shot, and pickaxe laying inside. He whipped up the revolver just as he heard the clattering of boots on wooden floors, turning towards the noise.
It was the two he had knocked down moments earlier. They had barged in, obviously not intent and allowing him to be a escapee any longer than necessary. As they started to charge, however, their eyes quickly pointed towards the gun in his hand. Looking at each other, they quickly dashed towards a rack of crossbows, swiftly picking up some bolts as Ballad pulled the trigger. The bullet whizzed past them, though it did cause the duo to flinch and cry out.
“MOE! JENSEN! WE NEED HELP IN HERE!” One of them cried out, pulling down a nearby shelf before turning it on its side, crouching down to hide behind it. His partner, however, as not as lucky. As he tried to repeat the action, the gunner's next projectile lodged itself in his stomach. He cried out in pain as blood splashed onto the ground; he held onto his wound, leaning on his hand as he lay on the ground.
“WILLIAMS!” The bandit cried, swiftly lifting his crossbow over the edge of the shelf. He pulled on the trigger, firing a bolt towards the prisoner. The bolt gouged itself into the cobblestone wall, kicking up dust but doing no more than that. Ballad's report was swift, jerking the thumb back and firing towards the shelf as he stuffed his flamethrower into his holster. His left hand went for the single shot, sliding it down his sleeve before finally grabbing the pickaxe.
“WHERE IS HE?!” A loud, monstrous roar shouted from close by.
“Shit...” The gunner muttered, gripping his pickaxe as he ran towards the shelf, his revolver at the ready. Before the man could respond, he set his foot on top of the shelf, kicking up into the air. Turning around, he pulled the trigger, landing on his ass as his opponent's brains splattered the edge of the shelf, smoke billowing out of the barrel of his weapon.
He was just about to get up when he felt a meaty paw grasp the base of his clothes, lifting him up into the air. He glared murderously at his assailant, feeling hot breath on his face as he stared into the eyes of death itself. Death was big, sweaty, and it had wet stains underneath its eyelids that ran down its face, passing over it scars.
“You....YOU!” He bellowed, tossing the prisoner out of the armory and into the ground like a ragdoll a few feet away. Ballad rolled onto his back, pictures rushing into view as he tried desperately to stand back up. He felt himself get lifted off of the ground again, followed by him getting slammed back down. He tried to raise his revolver, only to feel a fist crumple his hand, almost breaking each and every one of his hand's fingers. The bandit's meaty digits accidentally pressed down on one of the green buttons before sending it flying towards the armory.
The prisoner raised his pickaxe, his hand wobbly and his breathing rapid as he swung it onto the behemoths back. The brute simply batted it aside, sending it back onto the ground. He knelt down, bringing his fist down onto the green man's chest. The gunner felt it slam into his chest, his breath knocked right out of him as he looked away from the monster above, protecting himself by raising his arms. He closed his eyes as the bruiser howled, his limbs caving in as they bared his attackers full strength. He slowly opened his eyes, staring right into Moe's. Both contained a glow. A glow any potential fighter possessed. They were both utilizing it, and neither planned on backing down until the other was deader than dead. The pickaxeman gritted his teeth, his arms lowering down to his chest as the barbarian smiled, raising his arms, preparing to vanquish the prisoner. He no longer cared if Agern objected to him dying this way. The cabbage man had killed too many people and done too much to go unpunished. He had been nothing but a cold-blooded gunman who fancied the deaths of all who opposed him, and now it was time he was punished for his actions.
“I'll... gill you.... you ssccuu-”
An explosion detonated a few feet behind the two inside the armory, shrapnel impaling into Moe's back. He screamed, moving off of his bounty as he grasped at his back, trying his damnedest to remove the blades of metal digging into his skin.
The gunner swiftly stood up, fishing his hand into his coat for his flamethrower. Feeling it, he whipped it out, sliding his thumb against the wick holder, igniting it. As Moe finally got finished pulling out the last bit of shrapnel out of his body, he glared at the new weapon in his quarry's hand, seeing the look of utter hatred engraved on his face. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, rage in his heart, he charged forward, forgetting everything around him.
Ballad pulled the trigger, letting loose the flames.
The brute stumbled forward as the fire engulfed him. He shrieked in agony, moving onto his knees as he tried to stand up and at least get one swing in on his attacker. He couldn't let him win. He had done far too much to get away with what he had done. Every movement he made brought unbearable pain as the fire ravaged his form, charring his skin. Blisters appeared on his arms and chest as he took another step forward, every nerve in his body overloading.
He tried to lift his right arm, feeling some of his wounds tear apart, flushing out huge waves of blood before crumbling to the ground, his heartbeat increasing rapidly even as his breathing became shallow. The gunsmith simply stood there, having expended the ammo in his flamethrower, and watched him burn. Watched the psychopathic, monstrous killer burn.
Just as it should be...
Screams emerged from the banks of his memory. His ears starting ringing. He held his hands up to his ears, closing his eyes as he yelled at the top of his lungs. Tears forced themselves out of his eyes as he fell to his knees, his head feeling like someone had crushed it with a sledgehammer. The auditory hallucinations overwhelmed his senses. He couldn't even hear himself beg.
He couldn't even hear the sound of a sword pulled out of its sheath, slicing him across the back. He fell forward, the pain subsiding in his brain, replaced by a more minor one.
----
He trembled, holding the bloodied sword in his hands. Tears streamed down his face as he looked down towards the bloody body beneath him, the gash large. Smoke from the ashen body of the bruiser sailed up into the sky, filling the air with the smell of brimstone and death. The buildings, the grass, and himself. All of it was covered in blood. He could smell it and taste it. Tasted like salt.
He couldn't stop crying. Agern had promised him that this would never happen again. That he wouldn't let anyone do this to him or to anyone else again. He didn't know if Agern was a liar or if he was just plain stupid to think that he should've been believed, but it hardly mattered anymore. This man, who he had risked almost everything on, had killed everyone. It was just him left, and he knew it, but wished he wasn't. Every single person he sent Ballad's way had faced their demise. Everyone except himself. But he didn't want to. He wanted it to be over. He wanted everything to just be back to normal. And maybe, after this, no one else would die. No one else would sacrifice themselves due to his orders.
He took a step back, tightening his grip on his sword as the green monster pushed himself off the ground. He turned around to face him, his pickaxe in both hands, and with a wicked smile on his face.
---------------------------
"S-Stay back, you.. you..." Jensen squeaked, the tip of his sword pointed towards Ballad's chest. The detainee glanced down towards the sword, his back prickling as blood rushed out of the wound. The tactician stabbed forward, the blade sliding into the green man's left arm as it moved to block the sword. The gunner grunted, feeling the cold steel of the blade exit out of his forearm, coating his coat with his own fluids. The green man swiftly brought his right leg up, feeling his foot connect with Jensen's abdomen as he kicked forward. The blade slipped out of his arm, leaving a sizable hole. it stung like hell, but he tried his hardest to focus on his immediate objective. He was not going to let anyone stop him from achieving what he to achieve. Not even the cowardly bandit in front of him.
The partisan shrieked as he landed on his buttocks, swinging his sword in an arc towards the other's chest. The green man simply deflected the attack with the butt of his pickaxe, ramming his foot into Jensen's sword arm. The arm crashed into the ground, his fingers opening up to let go of the sword. The second-in-command could only watch as Ballad raised his pickaxe up into the air, not hesitating to strike.
His death was prevented, however, by a broadsword stuck between him, and oblivion.
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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