Hope you like gore.

Posted: August 16, 2010 in Fiction, Gaming

More of the scene I started yesterday. Enjoy. Or else.

It didn’t take a full second to spot the incoming vehicles. Darkness hides everything but a light source, after all. Brick reached down and clicked on the small shield unit at his waist. The air shimmered around him like a swarm of fireflies, then went dark. The big man held his launcher up and peered through the scope as the first car crested the hill. He laughed with the deep rumble of an avalanche and squeezed the trigger. The launcher belched fire out of the back and spit a trio of spiraling projectiles out of the front. The headlights had no sooner centered on Brick’s little camp when the rockets found a new home in the conical nose of the driver’s compartment. The front wheels of the runner went skating merrily on their way, ripped free by both impact and billowing fire. Metal burst into superhot flames and leaked blacker smoke into the black sky. A second car jogged around the first and fishtailed on the hardscrabble ground as the driver reaquired the target.

Brick’s shield flashed as the gunner of the second car opened fire on him with the mounted machinegun. The rock behind him was torn to gravel and the generator at his waist shrieked out a warning. He fired at the second car without sighting, emptying his launcher toward the oncoming car, but the driver was ready. The car circled wide and the rockets shot off into the night. The back end of Brick’s gun glowed white hot, and the car was still firing. “Momma didn’t raise no fool,” he grumbled, and waited for the next salvo from the car’s turret. The gunner was quick to oblige him, and Brick did his best impression of the last time he saw a man killed with automatic weaponry. He jerked and twitched and dropped his rocket launcher, and slumped to the ground, shield sparking. The generator gave the high pitched tone that told him it was down. Couldn’t have timed it better if he’d planned it that way. The mountain of a man smiled to himself and started biting his tongue. A warm coppery tasted filled his mouth as the runner pulled up to his little campground and four bandits hopped off.

Brick’s heart pounded in his chest hard enough that it might have been audible save for the triumphant hooting of the men who thought him dead. His arms and legs tingled as strength flooded into the already powerful musculature. His vision pulsed crimson in time with his heartbeat. He snorted like a cartoon bull, and his mind went blank. The first bandit to reach Brick had the worst kind of luck. Brick’s eyes snapped open. The bandit had time to shout, “Shit! He’s not- ,” and howl in pain as Brick stomped on the side of his knee. The joint gave under the size-17 steel-toed boot, and the man started to fall. The bandit didn’t quite make it to the ground though; Brick popped to his feet and grabbed the smaller man’s flailing arm. He hauled him up to his face, roared like a lion, and punched the bandit in the chest. The posts on Brick’s glove tore into the man’s ribcage, and his fist crushed the poor man’s ribs. The pain-induced howl was cut short as the bandit’s lungs were punctured and deflated by bone and steel. Brick twisted and threw the dead man overhand into the car. The remaining three bandits all drew weapons; two sub-machine guns and a crude ax. Brick ran at the nearest, one of the ones with a gun. The poor sap sprayed the night with bullets, but the berserker was already upon him. Brick collided with the man, one bowling-ball sized shoulder hitting him in the stomach so hard he sprayed vomit across the giant’s back as he was borne along into the side of the car. The vehicle rocked with the impact, and the man’s spine gave out with a crunch. He slumped to the ground.

Brick roared again, froth spraying from his mouth. He scooped both hands under the side of the car and lifted, veins popping out all over his bulging arms and neck. The car slowly tilted up, and finally fell on its side. Firefly sparkles danced across the surface of his shield as the second man remembered that he should be firing. Brick charged him, clearing the distance with astonishing speed. His shield screeched and bullets tore into his chest, but he didn’t slow. The wounds didn’t even bleed. The man hit Brick with the butt of his gun across the face. Brick howled, stomped on the man’s foot, and delivered an earth-shattering uppercut so perfect it might have been from an instructional video. The poor man’s foot splintered, and his jaw shattered. His head snapped back hard enough to break his neck, and he pitched backward.

An ax bit deeply into Brick’s back, and the big man stumbled forward. He spun, arms out, and caught his last attacker with a back hand that would stagger a horse. The posts on his glove tore gouges into the flesh of the axman’s chest. He fell back, then swung the ax again. Brick grabbed the man’s hand, his own completely enveloping it, and braced his other hand on the axman’s chest. He growled as he pulled, the axman screamed, and the shoulder separated with a pop. Brick didn’t stop pulling. The shoulder and back muscles tore, sounding like wet rope, and the axman’s arm tore completely free. Axman continued to scream, staggering back as rivers of blood pumped out of him, and Brick kicked him in the stomach. Axman doubled over his foot and promptly collapsed.

Brick stood there with the arm in his hand, panting. His vision slowly cleared. A dozen small holes in his chest started to trickle blood. A warm slick feeling ran down his back. He calmly dropped the arm, and punched in a code on the device hanging from his leg. A miniature caulking gun of what appeared to be liquid metal projected into his hand. The big man stuck the needle end against his neck and pressed it deep into his flesh. He squeezed the handle, and the contents flooded into him. He walked over to the freshly cratered rock. The nanomachines needed a minute to do their work, and he needed a nap.

Sure there could be more to this, but I really just felt like writing about carnage. Hope you have a good day. I’m sure I’ll try to have something for you to read tomorrow. J

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