Excellent work, despite how short it is. It peeked my interest, which is good. More!
Thanks a lot. I appreciate the compliments, and now more is coming!
Karah dropped the small knife. As it fell droplets of some liquid parted from the blade. It landed loudly by a pair of feet, but they didn't move. The putrid stench was contained by a pair of old boots caked in mud, attached to an equally dirty pair of legs. The grubby pants were stained in several places, each stain increasing in size the further up the body it was. The colour was an off red, like magenta. Blood.
It was everywhere. Blood trailed along the path, attracting rats and more repulsive vermin to the feast. They came out of the crevices and gaps in the derelict, metal wall. Even from the creaking pipes, adorned in rust and oozing black slime, the sickly rodents came. Karah could also see a pair of sharp, vivid yellow eyes regarding her with an eery stare. The intruder's gaze flickered to the corpses and then returned to meet her eyes once again. She felt the creature's breath, before it turned and galloped off through the thick slush covering the floor of the tunnel.
Exhausted and exasperated she staggered backwards, almost tumbling to the ground. What had she done? Three muscular bodies lay on the dust-ridden floor. Guts and clothing strewn everywhere. The face of the closest was a horrid sight to behold: there were no recognisable features. There was just a crater of bone and gore, with blood bubbling up and clotting.
She glanced at the knife she'd dropped. What have I done?
No. Surely I don't have the power to do this? Then again, there is the... No. I can't have. I-it just isn't possible. I've got to get away from this place.
As Karah began to run there was a light clatter to her side. She swiftly turned her head to take a closer look. Suddenly, there was a deafening bang; then nothing. Whiteness. But not just that, there was a peculiar odour too. It was soothing, relaxing.
She felt something tug her jacket, but couldn't react. Karah simply had no energy, and her sense were dimming. Trying to lash out with her scrawny arms had no effect, and something seemed to be repelling her mind. She began to whimper in distress. The last thing Karah saw as she regained sight was the ground, it was getting smaller.
The whine of the alarm sounded as plascrete doors sealed shut. Brig halted at the blocked exit. He was trapped, and he knew it. There was nothing he could do now; they would get the artifact back, but at a price. And Brig was determined to make sure the cost was high.
Wheeling on the spot the ex-Imperial Guard officer gathered his weapon and position himself behind a pile of steel crates. He could hear their footsteps getting closer, and closer. Their screams echoing down the corridor, into the hangar where he was hidden. Brig double-checked his Heavy Stubber and prepared himself for the coming onslaught.
As the snarling women entered the vast room they slowed. Scanning in all directions for their target. They examined the small, ruined frigates on the far side of the hangar. A few flames still flickered amongst the ruins, but there was no threat.
Brig heard a loud rattle from the corner directly opposite him. He heard a faint knocking sound, and a couple of neon green lights briefly flickered on and off. The power generator rumbled into life, providing light to the swinging lamps dangling perilously. As he watched, a slim, deceptively toned woman stalked through the mesh wire gate and squinted in his direction.
She's pretty attractive. Shame we're meeting on such bad terms.
The gang leader, dressed in a tattered red vest and skanky shorts pointed in his direction. She surged forward and revved her temperamental Chainsword. Her accompanying girls followed suit.
This is it: time to shine. These Escher bitches will get what they deserve.
Brig quickly made an estimate of how many foes he faced. Six, seven.
It would be a close conflict, but he only had one remaining clip and brute strength couldn't stand against metal razors. Hopefully he could down them all before they got too close. Pulling hard on the trigger the female gangers instantly dived for cover. Some lay prone behind ruptured barrels and crates, scrambling for any protection they could. The others had a bit more sense, and slipped into the shadows of a huge, apparently misshapen pile of rubble. Presumably just remnants of construction materials, and malfunctioned vehicles. The entire hangar was full of them; clearly this area had been abandoned long ago.
Three bloody corpses lay on the floor, one of them was still convulsing. He would've put the bitch out of her misery, but he couldn't afford to waste any shots. Brig's pursuers were still squirming in their hiding places, having not expected him to have such a devastating firearm. He took this chance to check his rounds.
Feth. Six bullets remaining.
Out of idiocy, and desperation, Brig pulled on the trigger once more, but nothing happened. He tried again and heard a blunt click: the bloody thing had malfunctioned!
Seizing their opportunity the girls emerged and spurred onwards, determind to slay Brig and reclaim their relic. Barely a few metres separated them now, then suddenly there was a blinding flash and several grunts as the Escher girls lost their footing in the confusion.
Brig raised his arm to cover his eyes, but he was still blinded. What just happened? He certainly hadn't done anything. Perhaps it was trap. Dropping the hefty firearm, Brig stood and flexed his bulging muscles. He was about to make his move under the bright conditions when he was hit on the head, with force.
The last thing Brig saw was a black figure with some kind of rope, like elastic. Falling from consciousness he tried to utter a moan, but failed as he lost his footing and he was elevated into the air.
Thanks for reading. Updates should become longer now as the story starts to unfold.