King of the Fallen

Meh, didn't want another one of these in MS Word, so....here -_-

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"Can't seem to catch a good day."

The weapon's deal went sour after one of the parties, i.e. me, got into an arguement about what the trade was about. I knew the guy was trying to rip me off, but what would you expect from a market on Krund - the Scum City. Nonetheless, the anttenae on the guy's head proved to be pretty entertaining. They were so stretchy and the guy was a bit fatter than most Malrukians, so you can imagine the hell of a wrecking ball he made out to be.

Nonetheless, a weapon's deal involves some of the dirtiest and most rotten of people, so take out one and invite the wrath of a dozen others armed with weapons capable of tearing you apart, limb by miniscule limb.

"Nope, can't seem to catch a good day."

They pretty much fell like bowling pins once the Malrukian was thrown into them, who was himself unconscious and a tad queasy from being spun around to the point of screaming like a maniac. I grabbed what weapons I could - one of them was a nice little Grundian plasma rifle, something I had wanted for my birthday. Taking it to the sound of a slap on the hull of Susie - the van - I leaped in backwards with the stash and spread the guns across the floor, inspecting the high quality of each of them while Tamik was driving. She was good at weaving through alleyways and (over) police blockades.

"Damn, these are nice for things you find in Scum City."

Tamik laughed a little, knocking over a trashcan on purpose.

"I was born here, ya know, so saying guns are the only 'nice' thing here is a mistake if you still want a ride buddy."

Tamik was like a chauffer, mercenary, and bounty hunter, but mostly the latter; purple eyes and black hair dyed green kept short, pale skin tone, and a taste for violence that impressed (and startled) me at times. She usually carried a knife at her belt - one with a spiked guard useful for enhancing punches if the blade wasn't kept sharp, something that was impossible to see.

"Just drive faster, I don't want to spoil these babies too early," I replied, motioning to the newly-acquired weapons.

Tamik cheered and pressed the accelerator to the floor. Kicking open a back door, I twirled a pistol around an index finger before pointing it at the windshield of the nearest (and gaining) van, which contained that Malrukian - who now had a black eye to its remaining three.

"Can't catch a good day, but it's getting better."

Dammit, I though I changed the title.

Nice job Wars :D

nice bro....

My eyes dart open, always at this moment - this instant - in the dream. It never leaves my mind, always playing with it - mocking me as it plays out the events with horrendous accuracy.

I strayed from the campsite made on the beach, wandering aimlessly along the shore to the red water, the black sediment burning as it heated the soles of my boots. The sky shone crimson - as it always did - and the suns only stopped glaring at this rock to make room for the scarred and angry moon. This was the only landmass on the planet - an immense island that contained forests of dark trees and beasts of wilder imaginations, some simply hiding until I had lost control, when I was vulnerable.

However, a few were less patient than others and that was how sustenance was provided - at the cost of a finger at most, which simply grew back moments later. My armor still functioned and made for excellent defensive and offensive weapons, but I fear some of the monsters on this place may best me eventually - this rock was fabled to be the birthing place of demons, called Rashka by the nearer of inhabited worlds and highly feared - and where the Feds sent their toughest prisoners.

From the moment I woke on this place, I knew it wasn't going to be pleasant - bones of those before me littered the black sands of the beach in cruel, disturbing formations of horror that were jutted out near rocks and some near the reefs that ringed the island.

Nightfall was especially difficult, it was when the forest around me came to unnatural life. Sounds of creatures surrounded and filled my ears that made me think that the stories I had heard were true and it was only through the knowledge that the rock sealing the entrance to the pit I had dug was firmly in place that I was allowed sleep. One-hundred and forty days on this rock; one-hundred forty-one nights; and still three thousand years until my sentence was cleared.

No ships came or ever were here except to deliver prisoners, and only one was allowed at a time - for fear of an uprising. The only reason I had this tunnel was because three former convicts had spent their lives digging it out themselves. I know this because I tossed three skulls out into the ocean, coupled with their respective bones. Not a particularly respectful end, but how do I know if they deserved just that? Why not more, if they did things that not even I could understand?

One-hundred forty-one days on this rock, and another sleepless night.

I keep on getting ideas in my sleep.......

Almost 5 months earlier

"Snowflake..."

The shop was in ruins, the owner dead - I think his name was Bill or somethin' - and most of his works either in a broken heap or in my stomach. Sure they tasted awful, but I only took the ones that smelled like anything edible. I don't know why I did it other than it felt good to know that I made the guy's life miserable. The Feds were everywhere either in hiding or in plain view with electromagnetic pulse rifles, slowly surrounding the van in an attempt to close off Snowflake's exits, which they did beautifully.

There was a lady in the driver's seat and I smiled at her in a gentlemanly manner. She didn't seem to like it so I stopped. Instead my fist was plowed into the engine within a few instants and the van was lifted off the ground entirely. Lifting a corner of my mouth in amusement for her fear, I shook it a few times and a yell went up from inside.

"Stop messin' up my stash!"

Snowflake popped out of the twin backdoors with two heavy weapons primed and ready for action. I had wanted this for a long time. Setting the van down, I strolled over to the jackass, ignoring the plasma bolts that pockmarked my suit.

"Well, Snowflake, I guess this is where you die or fry. Choose." I said, raising an arm point-blank in his face while Feds surrounded the guy and the woman in the van.

"Just to make it so that we understand each other...."

I relocated the crosshairs onto the woman in the van. Something in Snowlfake's eyes - mercy, I think it's called - made me scatter the Feds as a blast of irradiated plasma shot out of my palm, reducing the vehicle and its driver to little more than radioactive vapor. A hole in the wall was the only clue as to what happened.

Snowflake went into chains without question, the only reason his armor was left on was because it was a part of his body, but if I were in charge of the Feds - it would've come right off, leaving Wars a bloody wreck. I guess it would be useful for where he was going, but not for long. I smiled as he left in a ship marked with the Fed's sigil - a black raven on a golden field - and straight for the detainment center, where he would get a sentence as long as the captor wanted. I decided to give him a year for each gold piece I got, three-thousand I think. Snowflake got what was coming to him for making me stay in that jacked-up brain of his for so damn long and I watched every moment he suffered with glee.

"nice bro...."

"Nice job Wars :D"

noice

"noice"

I can relate to that xDDD

Day three-hundred: no food, no water, no slow death. My body continues to keep me alive, making me feel the pain of starving and thirst for all this time without rest. The creatures have grown smart and are evading me, watching for me to fall over and give up. That ain't gonna happen soon, though....or rather, not soon enough.

Going uphill through the forest just adds to this - it's dark, dank, murky, and generally unpleasant: but since when was any of this comfortable?

Sounds all around me, coming nearer, expecting me to die at any second. They see my weakness, but I don't care! They think they're smarter than me, ME?! I can escape from this rock at any point in time I want to! I just want to prove that to them before I do, prove that I'm more intellectual, more cunning, more hungry than they are! Traps are set all over the beach in case one of them decides to wait in my tunnel for an easy ambush. I smile as the sunlight breaks through the trees more - it makes me think of the day I get to kill Arcane, the day when the sky on another planet will be red with his blood! Yes, yes, that will be triumph enough for me, vengeance isn't eating at me, no, but the thought of such a beautiful thing is making me feel just as good as ever!

I tear up the rest of the mountain, coming through the denser forests at its summit and peak with anger and excitement in step. There were crude writings in the cavern, telling me of a ship that crashed into the mountain here, one that could work with someone knowledgeable to its parts in command. They described it as a Kyver 6-C6. It was my favorite model, one that I studied for ages in my home. With luck, I could burn some of the trees and vines around it into fuel....yes, it could work....

I knew why none of them bothered to climb up here and use it themselves - it was a deathly difficult climb and some of the more fearsome creatures came up here to feast upon their smaller brethren; I heard their fell sounds at night, and they frightened me, oh yes, to the point that I would check the boulder in the face of my cave a second time to make sure it was fastened tightly.

Laughter escaped me at the moment. There it was, in better condition than predicted, and I cheered silently for fear of the beasts coming from the darker edges of this place to my noises. Swiping madly at the encasing vines, my smile faded into an angry frown - the engine was gone, devoured by some unfortunately hungry beast no doubt or burned up by the infernal conditions of the place. I shouted, no longer caring if I attracted the mythos of demons and creatures from the corners of Rashka. My fists broke through its hull and into the ground, bleeding from the lacerated metal. I stumbled for a while to the edge of the mountain and contemplated falling, but knew it wouldn't work any more better than life here. I could see bones in the rocks of the crimson sea - some others before me took the opposite route I chose. I sighed and moved around aimlessly, not exactly going down but in a confused and random pattern, like a drunk.

There truely was no escape from this rock......but what if I made them believe I was dead? What if I made a Fed ship come here to drop off another? I could hijack the ship and get away! But it would only a matter of tearing out the tracking systems in my brain and heart. Freedom, small chance of success, and the operation began that night.

Nice

Nice

"Nice"

"Nice"