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End Here Member
I am a human, not a toaster.
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There so far... are two survivors.
Who will survive?
He couldn't see what had happened after it fell. The only thing he felt was relief, he was about to fight a nigh indestructible being with a knife. Then heat, a blinding light and a deafening boom. It was so bright that everything faded to white, the heat was so hot he could feel his blood boil under his skin, the sound so loud that his bones rattled. Flames licking at his body. Toying with the idea of eating the tasty moral before them. Before the flames could consume him the shock wave hit, he was flung far and fast from the epicenter. He flew like a rag doll his body tumbling across the tunnel, he smashed against a wall. His world went black and his head fell forwards.
He blinked, awake. Dust was still settling, he hadn't been out long. Attempting to get to his feet was possible, his old friend had saved his life again. His armor was drained of power, a joint in the knee and shoulder seemed to have been fused. He attempted to move again it only gave out a soft groan. All of his gear was gone now, nothing of his old life remained except himself. His heart hammered in his chest, nearly nothing compared to the heart break he felt at this point. Memories flooded him, people he served with now gone. His only tie with his family had been crippled. He relaxed and looked into the darkness the pain wouldn't fade, it tore at him and devoured his soul. Thousands of things rushed through his mind yet he couldn't come to move his free hand and release himself from the armor. It was only the first few hours and things had already changed drastically for him. If the mission were to continue like this, they may never reach the end.
"I had thought that when the armor failed me that it would be the day I died." He thought painfully. After a moment he released himself and stood. His environment suit was burnt and torn, it was covered in blood. He stared in the gloom at the dark green armor, its dings and dents, the scorch marks. It all made up who he had been. His hand covered his stomach, he took a step away from it and his foot hit something metallic it skitted across the now dry ground. Reaching down his fingers wrapped around the grip of his pistol. "At least something remains." He spoke aloud. He had no clue if the others had survived, there was rubble almost sealing the tunnel. He had been across from the group and was now on the side with the exit. "Anyone alive over there?" he spoke into the blackness. The air smelled of singed flesh, mold, blood, dust and a particularly gnarly metallic smell. His mind rolled over to a new thought. This was a worthy end for his former self. And this mission was a worthy end for his life, he'd regroup with his men in hell it seemed.
He blinked, awake. Dust was still settling, he hadn't been out long. Attempting to get to his feet was possible, his old friend had saved his life again. His armor was drained of power, a joint in the knee and shoulder seemed to have been fused. He attempted to move again it only gave out a soft groan. All of his gear was gone now, nothing of his old life remained except himself. His heart hammered in his chest, nearly nothing compared to the heart break he felt at this point. Memories flooded him, people he served with now gone. His only tie with his family had been crippled. He relaxed and looked into the darkness the pain wouldn't fade, it tore at him and devoured his soul. Thousands of things rushed through his mind yet he couldn't come to move his free hand and release himself from the armor. It was only the first few hours and things had already changed drastically for him. If the mission were to continue like this, they may never reach the end.
"I had thought that when the armor failed me that it would be the day I died." He thought painfully. After a moment he released himself and stood. His environment suit was burnt and torn, it was covered in blood. He stared in the gloom at the dark green armor, its dings and dents, the scorch marks. It all made up who he had been. His hand covered his stomach, he took a step away from it and his foot hit something metallic it skitted across the now dry ground. Reaching down his fingers wrapped around the grip of his pistol. "At least something remains." He spoke aloud. He had no clue if the others had survived, there was rubble almost sealing the tunnel. He had been across from the group and was now on the side with the exit. "Anyone alive over there?" he spoke into the blackness. The air smelled of singed flesh, mold, blood, dust and a particularly gnarly metallic smell. His mind rolled over to a new thought. This was a worthy end for his former self. And this mission was a worthy end for his life, he'd regroup with his men in hell it seemed.
I think it'll be like, Rivaan, myself, DJ, and hatman
There's going to be like two of the group who survive.
Hello, sorry I'm on a work trip, And I dropped my phone into a puddle. So I'm on my laptop at mcdonalds trying to get a new one. I'll try to fix my stuff as soon as possible.
His helmet was constricting him, he dropped pressed at the base of his neck and his helmet folded up and disappeared into the base of the armors neck. The neck guards were still in place which gave off the look of medieval plate armor.
"Bring it down!"
He felt a pang of shame, as point he’d missed the beast come out entirely until the guide shouted out. He unleashed a volley of rounds into the head of the beast, with a flash of sparks and blood it remained standing, he took a step back. At the same moment a part of the tracks flew past him. It seemed to do little but give the creature a laugh, then the plasma. He drew a grenade from his waist pressing, one of the buttons on it, the screen rotated from plasma, to frag, to HE, and finally landing on Phosphorus. His plan was simple, destroy the creatures hooked hand. It was already too close to him, though within its arms reach, it continued to lumber closer. He took a deep breath calming his nerves, his pistol in his dominant hand, he squeezed off a few more bullets testing its body. He ducked right, and under its grasp. It had lunged after his second volley. He activated the grenade and jammed it into its elbow joint. He dropped to a roll , his body now covered in the blood once to his feet, he found himself behind it. He turned and fired his rounds into the back of the creature. He had roughly five left in this clip. With a bright puff of smoke and a bright light. The white phosphorus melted the metal hook causing it to become severed and merely a stumped hand with a small twisted metal lump, the skin around the attachment was molten and blackened. Its side was heavily scarred by the quick flash burn. With unexpected quickness the beast twisted the opposite direction, his remaining arm coming in a back hand.
Roy had merely a split second to drop again, and into the muck. The liquid getting into his mouth. It made him want to retch, yet he held it together. He pushed himself back up, firing another two shots into its side. Its focus switched from the group as it turn its back. He took a step backwards and it took a step forwards. He fire the last four shots before dropping his clip. He slid his last one home and took aim. It swung on him again, though this time he couldn’t avoid it. The metal stub smashed into his shoulder, the weight of the hit pushed him off his feet and against the wall. He smashed into it with a thud. His armor though damaged, easily absorbed almost all of the blow. He did however lose his breath. As he struck his pistol became dislodged from his grasp and fell into the bloody waters. He drew the knife which was attached to the shoulder of his armor. Recovering he squared off with the beast, his knife drawn. His breathing was heavy, his shoulder armor had been crushed.
"Bring it down!"
He felt a pang of shame, as point he’d missed the beast come out entirely until the guide shouted out. He unleashed a volley of rounds into the head of the beast, with a flash of sparks and blood it remained standing, he took a step back. At the same moment a part of the tracks flew past him. It seemed to do little but give the creature a laugh, then the plasma. He drew a grenade from his waist pressing, one of the buttons on it, the screen rotated from plasma, to frag, to HE, and finally landing on Phosphorus. His plan was simple, destroy the creatures hooked hand. It was already too close to him, though within its arms reach, it continued to lumber closer. He took a deep breath calming his nerves, his pistol in his dominant hand, he squeezed off a few more bullets testing its body. He ducked right, and under its grasp. It had lunged after his second volley. He activated the grenade and jammed it into its elbow joint. He dropped to a roll , his body now covered in the blood once to his feet, he found himself behind it. He turned and fired his rounds into the back of the creature. He had roughly five left in this clip. With a bright puff of smoke and a bright light. The white phosphorus melted the metal hook causing it to become severed and merely a stumped hand with a small twisted metal lump, the skin around the attachment was molten and blackened. Its side was heavily scarred by the quick flash burn. With unexpected quickness the beast twisted the opposite direction, his remaining arm coming in a back hand.
Roy had merely a split second to drop again, and into the muck. The liquid getting into his mouth. It made him want to retch, yet he held it together. He pushed himself back up, firing another two shots into its side. Its focus switched from the group as it turn its back. He took a step backwards and it took a step forwards. He fire the last four shots before dropping his clip. He slid his last one home and took aim. It swung on him again, though this time he couldn’t avoid it. The metal stub smashed into his shoulder, the weight of the hit pushed him off his feet and against the wall. He smashed into it with a thud. His armor though damaged, easily absorbed almost all of the blow. He did however lose his breath. As he struck his pistol became dislodged from his grasp and fell into the bloody waters. He drew the knife which was attached to the shoulder of his armor. Recovering he squared off with the beast, his knife drawn. His breathing was heavy, his shoulder armor had been crushed.
awaiting an angel by ben harper
@Vordak Thank yooou
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