Join Date: Feb 2006
Location: Massachusetts
Posts: 3,421
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Famous Last Words
Famous Last Words
A small family of three huddled in the shower of a run down house. A three-year-old daughter, hugging an old, beat up Raggedy Anne, a father and a mother. The walls and floor were covered in filth, it seemed like a pipe broke, from the putrid green mold coming from the wall. The mother held her daughter softly, repetitiously whispering something to her, what sounded like “We’ll all be safe soon, everything’s going to be fine.” albeit, more to herself than her child.
Suddenly, there was loud banging noise, followed by a splintering crash. They were in! Two dark shadows moved around the house, searching everywhere. One was very large and muscular, possibly 7 feet tall. The other was very small and impish, dragging its knuckles on the ground, walking more like an ape than a human. The two shadows finally came into the bathroom.
Once they got to the shower, the little one put his hand on the edge of the curtain, about to open it, but it seemed to hesitate, and took its hand away.
“Mommy, why are they doing this?” asked the little girl, revealing their location. The imp tore the curtain off the shower, revealing them - they had to get out, but couldn’t. The big one was blocking the door. The mother hugged her daughter tighter, and grabbed her husband’s hand. The big one came over, and grabbed the mother and father over his shoulders. The little one took the daughter, cradling it, laughing slightly.
“Look what we got here,” it said, “I think this one’s going to the Joy Division in a few years.” This caused the mother to flail in rage.
“Let go of my baby, you bastard, I’ll fucking kill you! I hope you burn in hell!” she yelled at him, trying to escape from the vice grip of her captor. She seemed to kick him in just the right spot, because it caused it to throw them off of him, causing
a sickening crunch. The husband looked over at his wife, dropped on her head. Blood was draining out of her ears; she must have fallen on her head.
“Can’t grieve now, gotta hide.” he thought, as he made his escape. He only turned around once, but he wished he hadn’t. The last time he saw his daughter was her reaching out at him, yelling for help.
That man is named Thom Smith, but we’ll just refer to him as Thom. This is 6 years later, and the same group of people that took his family has gained tyrannical power. People had become nomadic, just squatting wherever they could, they had to run from them.
Thom was sitting in an old building, part of what was left of a town. All that was left of the building he was in was the foundation, and it was that way for most houses. They burned everything to the ground. He picked up a piece of crumbed wall on the floor, and threw it at the adjacent wall. There was really nothing to do any more, not since they destroyed everything.
Static was emitting from a makeshift radio. One of his comrades was on the lookout. He’d radio the rest of the people if anyone was coming.
Thom got up for a moment to stretch his legs, and heard a loud beep coming the radio.
“Shit! They’re coming! Everyone move out!” one of his comrades shouted to everyone else. Around 10 people flooded out of the run-down buildings, getting on to makeshift vehicles on the edge of the city. They ranged from ATVs to dirt-bikes, but they had to be light and durable, because everything was in ruin now. Wherever you went, there was unavoidable ruin, and it was only a matter of time until they found you.
“Where do these guys keep coming from?!” Thom asked his closest friend, Faust, with minor humor, yet overall annoyance.
“Man, I have no fuckin’ clue;” Faust said with a big grin, “I wish they’d just go away.” Faust, unlike Thom, really liked all the fighting. He never lost anyone.
As they were getting on their hogs, they could already see them in the distance. Nothing but dark specks with a wall of dust behind them, it’s the scariest thing in the world. The maggot-eaten corpses of the people they’d previously killed were nothing compared to them.
As they tried to make their escape, Thom realized that their vehicles were slower than theirs, and that they’d be caught without being clever or killing them all.
Thom reached into his waistline, and pulled out a rail gun he made from bedsprings, a car battery, and some pipe. You learn to make due when you’ve got nothing. Thom turned around, and fired at them, knocking one of them off their bikes, which knocked into another, and hit them both off.
“Yeah! Got two of ‘em!” shouted Faust, although it seemed no one else was very happy about that.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
“You bastard! They’re gonna return fire!”
“They have better weapons!”
Right on cue, they shot back. Luckily, it seemed they missed. They must be grunts. They shot again, this time killing a teenager. They hit him right in the back of the head.
Shit, they were gaining rapidly. They couldn’t have been more than 300 feet behind them, now. Goddamn machine-made motorcycles.
“You keep going,” Thom said, “I’m gonna stall ‘em.”
“Not without me, you crazy bastard” said Faust
“Seriously, I’ll be fine.”
“Seriously, I’m coming along.”
“Well, okay then.” Thom sighed.
Thom and Faust broke off from the group, and turned around, going straight at them, through the midst of gunfire. They’d done this so many times, they realized what patterns of movement messed with them. It seemed that the best method was flanging their speed, while slightly swaggering.
They broke off from each other, going around Them, and joined up behind them. This usually caused a few grunts to crash into each other as it was, but they always could pick off a few from behind. Faust hit one straight in the gut, who hunched over, and fell off his bike. Someone hit Faust back! Shit!
“You bastards!” Thom roared at them. “You’re all dead!”
“Fuck you!” one of them shouted, and shot his tire, hitting Thom off his bike.
The one who shot him turned his bike around to go back and finish Thom off. As he walked over Thom, he said
“Well look what we have here… I remember you.”
“You fucking imp bastard…” Thom said, trying to sound strong, despite the fact that his legs were broken. “I’m gonna kill you.”
“I don’t think you should be talking, fuckhead. It looks like it’s the other way around.”
Thom had been slowly reaching toward his gun, by his hip, and finally got to it. Lucky for him, his bike caused a rock to fall, distracting the imp-man.
“This one’s for you!” Thom screamed at him, and shot three hole straight through its head and fell back. It seemed like the loudest gunshots he’d ever heard.
Thom was stuck there. He was going to die.
“I didn’t fail you this time…” Thom said, and shot himself.
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