Author: jajathatguy PM
A secret society in a future world, fighting their governmentRated: Fiction M - English - Sci-Fi/Angst - Chapters: 6 - Words: 3,477 - Published: 05-24-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3025493
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Her eyes dropped instantly upon meeting the stone cold face of the Man, whose oxford dress suit was legendary around the republic. Republic, my ass, she thought. His clean crew cut made him look like a Twenty-First Century man, which, technically, he was, and his aviator sunglasses were antiques from the 1970s, the druggie era. They had all heard things of how it would happen again if they rebelled. This man was different though. His illegal weapons were holstered in thigh holsters, and a full blown Assault Rifle was slung over his shoulder. He was supposedly trained by the Republic in his Teens, but had become an outlaw as soon as it completed. Now he roamed the hills. No friends, many, many enemies. Such a lonely life, she thought, washing the dirt embedded clothes.
A duo of United Communist State, or UCS, soldiers stood outside in their grey body armor. Their heads turned and saw the man walking up the hill, his eyes bearing into theirs. His M4 Carbine flipped off his shoulder and shot them both in a quick double tap movement, and the suppressor on the end supressed the attack. The woman watched in horror has his bullets buried themselves in the body armor, then watched as the man smiled, smiling back at the men who were smiling because of their body armor.
Then their blood was flung across the Mayor's lawn, the bullets exploding into their body armor. Another achievement of this man, she figured. How gruesome, but she smiled in vengeance for her brother, who had been killed by one of these such men for now great reason.
The man blasted off the hinges and went inside, systematically clearing each room as he passed, killing the guards, working his way to the screams. His nostrils were smelling the air, his ears were well honed, and his eyes didn't miss anything. Not even dust.
He found his way to the final door and killed the guards silently, his knives borrowing into the base of their heads, then twisting like a screwdriver. Deadly precision was his game. He kicked open the doors and quickly threw in two stun grenades, stunning the occupants. He brought his Carbine around and killed the leader, then the man who was raping the Mayor's daughter, and had already raped his wife, he noted grimly.
The other brought around needle rifles, but not before his Carbine switched to them, dropping them, splattering their blood around the room. He didn't have time to reload, but he dropped his Carbine and switched to dual USP .45s, the same bullet he had loaded in his carbine loaded in the pistol, and he quickly squeezed off the ammuniton in one gun, then got over the dying leader- he had only pegged the leader in the leg- and point the gun between his eyes.
"Greetings, Communist Motherfucker," he growled pulling the trigger and killing the man, vaporizing his brains. He put another round in his chest. He whipped out a note and a nail. He scribbled using a stick run through the leader's blood.