View Full Version : some spare time to write

colt love
12-28-2009, 12:11 PM
i mostly just write a few bits here and there when i get the chance.
it's still a work in progress so don;t expect a perfect peice of writting

As I walked into the basement and slammed the light switch upwards, the lights flickered on and bullied the shadows in to the corners .The light blazed across the room, filling the space with light it shined off the work bench on the other side. On this stainless steel work bench sat a junkyard of papers and metal objects for weapons and engines. They create the base of my new life. Deeply set into a dark corner was a perfectly normal looking metal cabinet that contained my clothes and the few other objects that mean something to me and are deeply rooted to my past. Right next to that was a brown cardboard with a small cooker built in. In a slightly lighter corner was an old worn bed that was dressed in a large blue duvet. It was half on the floor so that it made a dark creepy cave under my bed that hid the junk and secrets from the world. Right next to my bed was an old dull ceramic sink with a simple mirror above it. In the last corner I had placed my large heavy wooden gun case that looked like it had come off the back of a moving truck. But it has been a part of my life for so long it’s worth keeping. Slap bang in the middle of the crammed room there was an old greasy V8 engine that one day I hope to get running so I can get out of this hell hole.
I hurried over to the sink and wacked the water on; washed my face off and watched as the blood ran away down the dark hole. I pulled back and saw that I looked like I had aged 5 years in 2 days I no longer look like a 29 year old. My dark blond hair was greasy and covered in the creatures’ blood. I washed off as much of the thick dark red mess as I could, but there was still a clear sign. I got out of the torn bloody clothes that I was wearing and got into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I ripped open my gun case and brought out a small black hand gun. I chucked the pistol in to a brown messenger bag with all the ammo I could find. Just as I was walking out, I grabbed a brown leather coat and chucked it on. Then I was ready to leave, I stepped out in to the harsh sunlight and on to the trashed road and picked up the bloody axe handle that had been slightly splintered at the end from overuse, it still worked well though. This road was once a great part of England. Now look at it completely wrecked the big rich houses mostly gone to waste, not many are left standing now. There was no sound only the wind, no cars, no police sirens, nothing. It’s the oddest feeling being completely alone. I needed to find someone, anyone, I just need to talk to someone real; I’ve had no company for 3 years. So I get out and search for 3 hours a day just, before night fall I get back and lock up for a long night of hell, luckily nothing has broken in to my home yet. But I know it can’t be long till something does.
I began walking around the large village I live in, looking for someone to help me or just to find weapons and supplies. I want to get back to my home town one day, to see if anyone is around. All I need is a car, or something that works to get me out. I heard a loud smashing sound that reverberated around the flat surfaces, I turned round to see where the noise had come from and my stomach wrenched as I saw a perfect silhouette. A creature, standing on the top of a trashed garage on the side of a decimated house that looked as if it had been hit by a bomb. All the windows were gone, some were boarded up, the roof was left without any tiles and half was missing. All that was left was the bare skeleton, the front door had been boarded up and the walls were cracking. That was when I saw it just sitting there in the garage was an old Land Rover Defender painted black, it was gorgeous but could I risk getting it? The creature screamed. I was pulled back out of my thoughts and back in to the real world; what was the creature doing out in day light? I prepared for an attack pulling the axe handle back and taking a defensive position on the balls of my feet. But it simply dropped back into the broken house. I relaxed a little and looked at the Land Rover and sighed, just not a good time I mumbled to myself. I continued my search of the little block and went to the super market to grab some food and some extra clothes to replace the ones from this morning; I also got a small radio. Luckily the army closed off London to stop the spread of the creatures and left the electricity on for any survivors left out there. Hopefully there might be a radio signal as well.
Then the sun slowly started to cast large extended shadows across the road, the creatures would be out soon. I shoved the radio in to the bag and held the axe handle tightly and ran for home. As I was about 300 metres from my home I heard the evil screams of the creatures waking getting ready for a night of hunting this only made me run faster. There’s no way that any human would compete with these monsters, I hope the person that created them got a taste of his own experiments power and hunger. I slammed the door closed and hurried to lock the several dead bolt locks. I clambered down in to the small room and sat down on the bed, which creaked under the sudden pressure of weight. I pulled out the small white radio that I took from the store and plugged it in. I slowly started to turn the tuner round, my ears strained to hear anything but the background static. I suddenly heard a mumbled voice, somewhere behind all that static there was something or someone. My heart stopped I thought to myself “there’s someone out there” almost screaming it in my head. The words were still unclear but it gave me hope, all I need to do is get better reception but that is for tomorrow if I make it through the night...
I slept in my bed with a shotgun under my mattress ready and loaded at all times. When deep in sleep I had the same nightmare that I’ve had nearly every night for the last 2 years, it’s a simple dream of my girl friend in and well lit white room with and nice wide window sitting on a chair smiling at me with her sweet brown eyes staring at me, everything gets ripped apart as the wall breaks open and thick concrete smoke feels the room blinding me, as the dust slowly settles a creature appears through the crack in the wall and pulls my girl friend back through with it. At that point I was woken up with a loud crashing noise outside, I took immediate action and rolled out of bed, grabbed the shot gun and cocked it, pulling back the metal handle at the front of the tube that hangs underneath of the barrel and rammed it back till a loud click sounded out. Another massive crash made me jump at the whole door shuddered, “how did they find me?!”, “will that door with stand this onslaught?” there was so many questions racing through my mind. All of a one of the dead bolt lock was launched off of its mount and down the stairs. It made a deep thud as it landed at me feet; I shouted “oh shit!” as I raised the shotgun to my eye and peered down the length of the barrel. Another loud crash made dust trickle down from the ceiling in long smoke trails. Sweat dripped in to my eye and down my face, I was shaking, my aim was off and the gun was getting heavier in my arms. I slumped in to the chair in front of the metal table, letting the gun slip out of my hands and landing on the floor with a loud crash, I was tired of this life I wanted it to be the way it used to be, going to work, getting drunk with friends, driving around town and of course being with my girl friend. There was another crash at the door. I closed my eyes and listened to the crashing against the door, something was happening, not outside but inside years of hiding, running away was building up deep down. I opened my eyes suddenly and jumped to my feet with the 12 gauge shotgun in my hands, I was angry at these beasts for all the pain they have created and how much death. The door was just hanging on now, I ran over to the gun case and picked up all the ammo for the shotgun I could and a old Desert Eagle pistol with all the ammo for that too, I chucked all the ammo in to a bag and slung it over my shoulder, the pistol was rammed in to a leg holster. I stepped out in line with the door in a long trench coat with a hood pulled up over my head.
I said to myself “I’m getting the hell out of this town and I’m taking as many off these bastards down as I can on the way!” At that moment the door caved in and slammed down the stairs, and all hell broke loose. The first creature that jumped down the stairs was met by 250 led pellets squire in the face, I pulled the handle back and a empty shell was launched still smoking from the breach of the gun, I then forced the handle forward again. I ran up the stairs to the door where I was met by another creature that launched its self at me not taking in to consideration the rather long drop on the other side of me, as I simply ducked the creature let out a horrible scream as it plummeted down face first to the concrete floor. They might be strong but there stupid, I ran out on to the road as another 2 came at me with their teeth 2 shots from the shotgun made short work of them, it felt so good to finally be fighting back, it felt like I have been given the power to do something instead of being scared and attacked. These creatures there not that different from us humans they die in the same way and the best part of it they still feel pain. There was a sudden noise behind me as a creature jumped of the roof of the small house that rested on top of the place I call home. The only thing I saw as I turned around was a dark blood soaked hand coming at me; I didn’t even have enough time to brace myself for the bone shatteringly powerful blow that launched me back 4 metres. My shotgun lay motionless on the grass next to the path with the moon light glinting off the sharp lines. Lucky I put the desert eagle in to the holster I thought to myself, I pulled it out and rammed it up in to the creature’s mouth as it lunged on to me; there was a massive gunshot as the 50. Slug ripped though its head without consideration to how much mess it made. I jumped to my feet drenched in blood “why is it when I take on the bastards I end up all bloody and gory. It’s sick!”

thats is so far im trying to think of a good way for him to get out of the fight he's in.

12-28-2009, 12:22 PM
tl:dr, but i did read some sections. The story, as a whole, didn't really captivate my attention, and i kind of skimmed over it. Desert Eagles don't fire 50.'s, at least to my knowledge, and the end was really random.

colt love
12-28-2009, 12:29 PM
well it's kind not finished i just though i would see what people though of a little section of it really :/
yea i always thought that the calibar of a gun was measured on power but since iv been shooting with air rifles i'v found out that it's just the width of the round :) and deagle fire a 50.AE round but also come it smaller calibars, but i like 50. cause there awsome...

12-28-2009, 12:39 PM
AE, care to say what that means? because the only gun I know of that fires 50's is the Barret, and that shit ain't easy to come by.

colt love
12-28-2009, 01:08 PM
i never really found out about the AE i think its the bored out camber so that the gun doesn't jam when fired rapidly. the barret rifle is a beast! and i know i know but i like the deagle so i think is deserved placement in my story. it's fun describing the damage the desert eagle can do :p

12-28-2009, 05:03 PM
there is a difference between a 50. caliber and a .50 caliber. APC's fire 50. cals, while heavy machine guns fire .50 cals. get your facts straight.

01-05-2010, 05:12 PM
What's with all this militaristic short stories? ATTN: It's not auto-cool to write a story about guns.