Short Story: The Eternal Life

The Eternal Life

I saw a thin bony silhouette cast up against the brightly lit arena, and the cell door grated open. A guard entered grasping a rifle.

“Come. I must lead you to Her.”

I got to my feet. An aching pain shot up my leg. I cocked my head.

“Is that all the English you know?” I scowled.

He tilted his head. “Come” he said. “She is waiting.”

My eyes flashed wildly. I watched as he removed a long thick bladed samurai sword.

“Don’t make me kill you” he warned.

“If you do, then you shall die yourself for I have heard the sorceresses sentence she has wrote. She wishes rather than me die, she wants me cast to eternal life. She will turn me immortal and switch my body with a cat! So you won’t dare to…” I trailed off as he broke in.

“Come now. Or I shall bring Her to you. I’ve cut out all this mister nice guy business.”

I dropped to the floor. “Go ahead, make my day!”

He approached and heaved me to my feet.

I kicked his knees out, and grabbed his gun, spun behind him and strangled him with it. “Boy’s shouldn’t play men’s games” I said lifting his body onto the bed and switching clothes with him.

I pulled the bed sheets up and over his head to disguise who it was.

I took his gun and walked out of the cell shutting the door behind me and locking it.

I strafed down the wall concealed by the shadows. I had been waiting for this opportunity and now it had come I was going to make use of it. I ran through the shadows and narrowly avoided walking straight into a cupboard!

I left the shadows and approached a door leading outside. I went into the garden and crawled through the hedgerow. I out walked all the guards. Then I found a car with a driver revving it up. I climbed into the back and hid under a sheet.

I heard some gates open and the car drove out.

I lifted the sheet to see countryside. After about ten years of living in a prison cell, I saw countryside. I was free I thought as I clambered out into the field but I was wrong. So wrong…

Little did I know, this was more deadly that this. Much more.

I scurried through the high rimmed grass. A mine was visible in the floor. I clambered to my feet and yelled “FREEDOM!”

A gunshot echoed through the still air as the gates opened. A band of footed infantry emerged heading in my direction. I had climbed into a solid battle field!

A mine blew and a cavalry soldier was thrown off his horse and blew up. Not very nice.

An explosion blew and I was automatically blown to smithereens.

Short Story: The Outpost 3

The Outpost 3

I took out my PP7 silenced and led away towards the tank. I was wearing a heat suit. I was on another mission. Bond 007. I was going to eliminate Trevelyan. Last time he beat me, but this time the victory was assured for me. I had a D5K Deusche, a PP7 and a ZMG 9mm. As far as I knew he had a AR33 Assault Rifle. But you can never be sure, can you?

It is possible he also had a RCP-90. Dangerous. Also a PP7 without ammunition.

I had a traitor detector programmed to track the PP7 he had. Clever little gadget. Also a data-thief to take information from a computer based memory. Security locked or not. There was no escape for him. Or was there? We would soon find out.

I climbed into the tank and took full control of the gun. I rode to the plane and took out the key, inserted it into the lock and unlocked the door. I clambered in and started up the engine. I waved farewell to Valentin, then took off into thin, cold air. I lifted until my head sailed through the clouds. I was going there whether it meant by airship or any other mode of transport. I sailed swiftly through the air like a bullet from a gun. Swift movement.

I came in for landing on the Jamaican runway. Fans lingered around. I climbed out of my mobile and was escorted by a waiting van. Probably to avoid me being charged down by fans. I was escorted by an old hag.

“This way” she said, edging toward the vehicle.

I headed toward the wreck that lay in wait.

“Come on, we haven’t got all day.”

“Cool it woman, I’m dying of heat exhaustion!” I called across, grabbing my throat to make it look a bit more life like.

“You could at least pick up your pace.”

“Huh? Pick up my pace?” I echoed. “Yeah right, I could just about pick up a grain of sand!”

“Stop moaning and get here, or I’ll go without you.”

I could tell that getting on the right side of her wasn’t going to be easy.

“Come on!” she called.

“Come on” I echoed.

“If I wanted a parrot I’d buy one!” she replied.

I left it.

When I reached the wreck she was already inside belted up, revving the engine, roaring to go.

“Jump in, unless you want me to leave you here. Cause that could be arranged.”

“Whatever you say” I answered.

I clambered in. I could just about make out it was a Ford Sierra Sapphire through the old copper rust. Nice. When I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they did. The seat gave beneath me, and so I ended up sitting in the shell of a seat. Help, I thought. That is what this old girl needed. Help. A ton of it. She was dressed in rags and had dirt up her face.

“Hey, I’m feeling peckish” she said, “I’m going to have something to eat.”

She pulled up next to a garbage can and leant in.

“Oy trash can lady, I eat from restaurants not bins, so I’m not going to join you. No offense.” I said putting up my hands.

“I’m not eating from the bin, I’m finding something to give you.”

“I don’t want anything out of the bin.”

“Want a bet” she cried, reappearing with a tommy gun! She sprayed the wreck with bullets and put the windscreen through. Through the wreck she did not see where I went. She appeared at the door and looked down at the floor. Unfortunately I had suspended myself from the ceiling and came crashing down upon her.

“Aghhhh, murder!” she cried, before passing into hell.

I looked through the door and saw a posh Porsche parked just across in the field. I headed towards it then stopped, listening.

“Company?” I asked myself, “good idea” but not good enough to outsmart me. I walked to the wreck and collected the tommy gun. I was going to need it. Then I returned to my standing position. I looked and listened intently concentrating on a certain patch of trees. It was not going to be easy to pick out these people. They must be wearing pretty well camouflaging clothes to avoid a hawks eye. They would have to be very clever to outsmart me. Very clever, but they won’t. Of course they won’t, not with an ex-military leader in front. I stared into the darkness of the trees. A little cough echoed out from my right. I turned attention to it. I lifted my gun to face the way.

“You won’t escape me this time!”

“Bond, my boy, cool it; you’re surrounded thoroughly so don’t even attempt an escape.”

“I don’t need to try Alec, I could escape without trying.”

“Leave your position boys.”

“Boys!? I expected men from you Trevelyan.”

Boys came from all sides.

“Need boys to do your dirty work do you Trevelyan?”

“No actually Bond, these are volunteers.”

“You don’t know the difference between slaves and volunteers, Trevelyan.”

“I must. Slaves are people who are made to work. These aren’t.”

“You say that. Whatever your asked.”

He led out. “Come to finish me have you Bond?” He sneered, laughing unwarily.

“Yeah, for that matter” I replied. “I have.”

“Doesn’t it seem like a mission failure Bond? I mean, with you unarmed with a gun to your head? It sure does to me.”

“It doesn’t to me!” I cried, dropping to the floor as a parry of bullets left the strangled wreck of the truck. Wade and his boys were here and right on time too. Nice.

I looked up to see Trevelyan and his bodyguards disappear into the thick shrubs.

“Stop firing!” I called. “So I see you kicked your butt into gear did you?”

“Shut it Bond, be pleased we got here before you died.”

“Don’t act hard, it don’t suit you” I replied hastily.

“Next time I won’t bother showing up then!”

“Fine!”

“Fine then!”

“I know it is!”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah!”

I turned and walked off, muttering to myself. “Jerk-off.”

“I heard that turnip face.”

“Shut it dweeb.”

“C’mon then!”

“Keep your hair on Wade you haven’t got much left.”

“C’mon then.”

“Nerd features.”

“C’mon then.”

“Fat face.

“C’mon then.”

“Is that the only line you know?”

“C’mon then.”

I turned and walked off.

He followed saying “C’mon then.”

I retrieved my PP7 and turned to him. “You want a fight minced face? Come and get it!”

He headed towards me. “C’mon then” he called.

“Smegging hell, the freaks gonna have a fight.” I exclaimed.

He approached.

“So you do want a fight do you?” I questioned.

“Yeah if you’re game.” He replied.

“Well duh, of course I’ll fight. I asked you for it.” I smirked.

So the battle commenced.

“It’ll all end in tears” someone called from the audience.

But did he listen? Did he heck.

I sparked him and bunted him until he stoned out, then shovelled his body aside.

“He’ll have a shiner” someone said.

“Yeah the silly geezer” called someone else.

“Obvious he’d lose want it” called another.

“Ah true” cried another.

I turned and leisurely walked away shaking my head. “Shouldn’t play big boy games grandpa” I cried, kicking him in the face.

He rolled into a strangled heap on the floor. There he lay lifeless and dull. As if God had taken his life in exchange for eternity to forever live. A miniature stream of blood trickled from his ear and fell onto the floor. A pool of blood bundled from his mouth and the soil soaked it up on impact.

His eyes rolled about wildly as if he had no control over them and finally ended up looking into the back of his head. Blood streamed from his nose and he had severe wounds to his arms. Grazes covered the majority of his face and the parts that had no grazes had cuts instead. His clothes were stained red with blood, and the little hair he had was too.

I heaved. Then I could hold it no longer. I spewed up in a bush. The branches were decorated with bits of steak and kidney. The leaves coated in a yellowy substance. Sicko.

I walked to the Porsche that lay in wait not far away.

“Where’d you think you’re going? You’re not just leaving him there are you?” called a helper.

“Yeah I am as a matter of fact.” I replied.

“No you can’t Bond, or else…”

“Or else what?! You want to make something of it?”

“No!” he replied backing away.

I clambered into the car and revved up the engine. A lot of dusty smoke left the exhaust pipe. Ashes floated about as if on bits of string. I put my foot down and the engine sprang to life. I rode away at an amazing pace and the wind sifted my hair.

A few hours later I arrived at my apartment. It wasn’t much but after all it was somewhere to sleep rather than in a doorway. You people who sleep in doorways, I’m not trying to get at you but, erm well basically you’re sad. Very sad.

As soon as I entered I sensed there was something wrong. Books were scattered all over the place and the cupboards had all been up turned. The bed covers had been removed from the bed and thrown over the chair. There was a mysterious lump beneath the covers.

I slowly approached grasping my PP7 silenced, and very quickly ripped back the covers to reveal… a dog. I breathed a sigh of relief and slumped into another chair. I got to my feet and opened the curtain.

“No!” I cried dropping to my knees. The £1,000 vase I’d bought from Spain lay shattered in the sill. The fragments too delicate and tiny to piece together. I walked to the chair and grabbed the mutt by its collar. I led him to the door and kicked the dog out.

It didn’t stir though. I didn’t get no kip in that night I was too busy sorting out my house.

I turned up at the office to be confronted by The Boss.

“Why have you put Jack Wade in hospital?” he boomed so loud he could blow you away.

“I haven’t, the ambulance did.” I replied.

“Well why did you beat him in?”

“Well he was asking for it.”

“That’s no reason. Go on, if you enjoy hitting people then hit me!”

“No” I replied.

“Go on, hit me, go on right there” he jeered pointing at his nose.

I launched forward and jawed him then sparked him.

“You hit me” he glared.

“I didn’t mean to” I replied.

“No, no you hit me” he said.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

He threw himself at me wailing wildly.

We both went down and he squashed me to the pulp. All I could do was gasp and gulp. At one point life seemed as if it was about to end but luckily the fat man rolled off me. I choked then kicked him in the softest part of his body.

Now it was his turn to gasp and gulp. His eyes widened and I got to my feet.

“See you later… Boss” I said as I walked out the room.

He stood there grasping his groin, then he got to his feet and yelled “Bond, you’re fired!”

“Me!” I screeched walking back into the room. “Me? I’m fired? You’re the stupid fat jabba who asked for the fight!”

“Give me the bullets” he said.

“Where’d you want them, in your forehead or your stomach?” I asked.

“In my hand” he said.

I pulled out my DD44 Dostovoi that had been at home. I aimed it at his head and pulled back the trigger. A thin jet of water shot out and struck him in the face.

“It’s not a real gun?” he spluttered in relief.

“No, but this one is!” I said removing my Cougar Magnum and aiming at his foot. I shot.

“Agh!” he shouted, dancing about in a wild stance.

I aimed at his head.

By now the audience had gathered and stood cheering in the doorway and round the windows. He would be haunted forever now by photos of his wild hooligan dance. The audience snapped quick shots at any opportunity. Then I shot him in the ankle. He dropped, eyes wide in pure fear and terror. No more walking for a while.

I left the office building with a chant ringing in my ears.

“Sack, sack, sack, sack!”

I remember the words from bosses lips. “You’re fired” and remember shoving him out of the window of the third floor. Guess how I left the building? That’s right, in the back of a riot van. Guess how Boss left? In an ambulance on a stretcher. I took that as revenge. But not enough. I’d have to get him back some other way to hurt him even more. Then a plan slotted itself into my brain. A nasty plot.

That very night it was when I’d been released. I sneaked to the office building. I defused the cameras and then set to work. I set a fuse to some gunpowder and then torched the place. I also to the fuse, then I got out as quickly as possible, drove a little further up the street and watched it go up in my rear view mirror. Nice.

The whole building gradually turned to a burnt out wreck. And I was already gone when the bobby’s turned up. I rode the street smiling to myself. Until I was surrounded by the pigs.

That was when I got caught. I’d had my revenge on Boss but not my revenge on Trevelyan. I would seek him down and slit his throat. When I got out of this riot van. I guess when I’d attempt? Now? Ieapt to my feet and booted a bobby across the van, and he stoned out on the side. The I uppercutted the other one. I opened the rear door and jumped.

I felt my body hit on the stony gravel and it felt like someone dropping an anvil on my back. I lay there squirming until the pain left. I attempted to get to my feet but failed miserably. I shook my head to try and return my view to normal but instead all that happened was I got a thumping headache. I winced in sheer pain and screwed up my face. I felt a sharp stone pressing into my back as I lay in the centre of the road. I couldn’t move. I was paralysed.

The was nothing like Goldfinger or Moonraker. Nor From Russia With Love. For that matter it wasn’t like Her Majesties Secret Service or Diamonds Are Forever either. Or Licence to Kill, or Tomorrow Never Dies, Doctor No or Live or Let Die. The Living Daylights, For Your Eyes Only. This was a completely different experience. A unique act so where’s the camera and film crew when you need them? Filming someone else? Then to round it all off, a motor car at high speed came raring down the road towards me. “Oh…” I never got to finish that sentence. I was up and into the ditch faster than ever. The car whizzed past and soaked me. I realised I noticed the driver. Miss Natalya Simonova who I’d met when I was caught in the Severneya by the Spetznaz. The car reared over sideways and halted next to the kerb. The door opened and I heard a faint familiar voice.

“Hop in, if you can.”

I staggered to my feet and clambered out of the ditch. Then slid my dirty body into the car. It was a carnelian red Vauxhall Carlton, a total rust wreck.

There was another passenger whose identity couldn’t be revealed but there was one obvious thing. He had a gun! And was aiming it at Natalya Simonova! I reached for my gun, but before I could reach it I heard a voice.

“Don’t bother Bond!”

It was now clear who was behind this. Alec Trevelyan, traitor 006. Now working for the Janus.

There were two other familiar members in the team; Boris Grishenko the computer technician and programmer, and Xenia Onatopp, Trevelyan’s female accomplice. And of course not forgetting Sgt. Arkady Ourumov. He was a bit of a handful. With his use in the GRU Military Intelligence HQ. Xenia was the woman with thighs of steel. She used them to squeeze the pulp out of people. Boris Grishenko was a professional computer technician who previously worked for NASA, the space communications. And guess what they had access too… yep, the Goldeneye satellite.

I’ll have to regain control of the space weapon, or else the whole world could be held ransom.

My body slammed into the floor. I felt pain shoot up my spine. I was in agony.

My bungee rope was firmly wound around me. I took out my grappling gun and ran along the dam. Guards died in my run, and I attached the covert modem in place. I shot the guards out of the lookout towers with my sniper rifle, and they tumble over the sides plunging to their deaths.

“Oop’s, I slipped” I laughed.

I slid down the ladder to the door and slipped in unnoticed. I was in the dam.

I ran down the corridor and clambered on the sewage pipes above the corridor. I clambered along silently. I hung dangerously above a guard and picked the right moment to shoot a bullet through his head. But it was silenced.

I ran along the pipes above everyone until I reached the computer room.

I shot the guards quickly and then hacked in the mainframe and MI6 intercepted data back up. Then I clambered up onto the overhead conveyor belt and began my long route through the tunnels to the end. Then I climbed off and ran out the door. I flew up the ladder and onto the dam, then clambered onto the disposal platform. I tied the bungee rope securely, and checked it to make sure because one little upset and the results could be devastating.

I couldn’t check it again as the military forces came behind me. So I hastily left the platform. The wind whistled through my hair and the ground came closer. I winced and screwed up my face. I could hardly breathe.

The I stopped I shot up into the air, and then came back down swinging sideways. I finally stopped and pulled out my grappling gun. I wound myself to the floor and clambered off.

I looked up the dam face to see troops absailing after me. But anyway, I’d lose them in the ventilation. I pulled out my watch laser and set a hole into the ventilation. I have to find Trevelyan and destroy the tanks in the bottling room. I have ten remote mines to set. I climbed into the ventilation and began crawling quickly to my key destination, when the floor fell through and I was dropped into the middle of a meal!

Guards sat staring at me.

“Eh, sorry I forgot to knock.”

An axe head thundered next to my head. “I noticed!”

“I had a feeling you’d drop in Bond. Feeling peckish on the job?”

“Trevelyan, is that you?”

“Who’s he? You’ve got eyes in your head. Use them, that’s what God gave you them for.”

“Did he?”

“Be a man, James.”

“A man? I seem to have forgotten what men are. I’m sure if you reminded me it would all come flooding back.”

“Allow me to remind you then, Bond.” He said grabbing down below and squeezing.

“Ok… I… remem… beerrrr” I gasped wincing.

“Take him away boys.”

“I don’t think so” I said, producing a grenade launcher.

“I do” he replied removing a Cougar Magnum from his trouser pocket. He aimed it for my head. “Drop the weapon Bond” he said shaking his head. “You know you’re pathetic compared to me.”

“Or am I?” I said.

“Yes.”

“No Trevie, the gun ain’t loaded.”

“Yes it is. Let me prove it” he said.

He aimed at my head and shot. Click.

“Told you!” I said leaping back into the ventilation. “Catch you around Trevelyan!” I said removing the pin from a hand grenade and tossing it to him.

I heard a faint boom as I scurried into the distance. I crawled above the toilets and looked in. A guard sat reading the newspaper so I dropped a timed mine onto the wall behind him. I backed away.

I looked in to see the body lying black on the floor. As I would of guessed, it had caught the attention of the guards who had sounded the alarm. I looked back to see the guards who had absailed down the dam hot in pursuit.

“Sugar!” I cried and removed my KF7 Soviet. I took aim and blasted the guards brains out. Soon the bullets had formed a solid wall between me and the rest of the guards. I turned and looked out the hatch and a Russian infantry stood grasping his automatic shotgun.

“Drop your gun” he said in Russian, but I translated it.

“Fine” I said dropping my KF7 Soviet onto his head and knocking him stone cold. He dropped to the floor and I got his automatic shotgun. “Guess what Trevelyan. I’ve got a gun, and it’s reckoning time!”

I ran in the corridor and shot down the gunman who was clutching a bowl of meat. I slid into the alcove. There was little light and not much space. I slid across the curtain and opened a panel in the wall. I needed the access code so I entered it into the data panel. B.O.O.T.E.D. <return>. The wall slid sideways and left a concealed passage that led to the nuclear bottling area. I ran in.

I emerged from the shadows and ran towards the liquid nitrogen tanks. A gun to my head told me to stop. I lifted my gun and shot the tank, and a misty steam wrapped through the air. I turned to see a frozen guard holding a DD44 Dostovoi.

“I’ll have that, thank you” I said snapping the gun off, and his hand in the process. I attached timed mines to the nuclear tanks and then made off towards the door.

“Why so much haste, James?” came a familiar voice. “Why not hang around for the fireworks?”

“Trevelyan?” I said before I even turned to face him.

A figure dressed in black and clutching a ski mask that had been freshly removed from his face appeared from the misty gloom.

“No, General Arkady Ourumov.”

“General Arkady what?”

“Nice of you to drop by.”

“Eh, facts are facts. I didn’t drop by, I walked in.”

“Come out, come out wherever you are soldiers.”

“You mean there are more of these guys?”

“Yeah, of course there are.”

Soldiers left their hiding positions.

“The timer is set, is it not, Mr. Bond?”

“Yep. It’s gonna blow in about a minute. It’ll take us all with it.”

“No, instead it’ll take you Mr. Bond. We’re going out. Bye Bond, hope you can eat dust.”

They left the room, and I heard the key turn in a lock. I was stuffed. Then I saw… and a plan… I would escape… if only… No I could… but… it was my only chance!

I clambered onto the conveyor belt and lay down. The machine wasn’t on but it was about to start up. I bent my head low and lay flat. The mechanics started above my head and I had to virtually mould and force myself into the metal. I had no way of knowing when the conveyor belt would stop due to my weight.

Luckily daylight drew near, and still the belt had not stopped. It was by lucky day… but then the belt stopped, and the mechanics continued above me. I was dead. The liquid nitrogen would power up the tunnel and freeze me solid. I imagined the liquid nitrogen freezing me stiff.

Then the belt kicked in. Backwards.

I was drove towards the liquid nitrogen room! My life narrowed and death was near. I fell off the conveyor belt onto the cold tiled floor. My last chance was to disable the mines. I ran towards the tanks and dropped next to the mine. Time to disable. I looked at the timer. 3… 2… 1… BOOM.

I felt deaths icy fingers wrap around my heart. I felt the ice plunge through me. Death had claimed yet another soul to rest in his fiery den.

Short Story: The Outpost 2

I took my new Excabana 2000 and rolled behind some barrels. Rapid gunshots whipped up my hair and thundered the floor around my feet. I was back this time with a new purpose. Dimitri Mishkin must be killed and all the military force must be killed or arrested. Me and Agent 007. Bond.

I took my way carefully sideways and leant out. Soldiers there were a whole platoon, and tanks. I’m exaggerating. I leant out with my gun and blasted half the platoon to outer space. The earth turned dusty black. Drone guns and miniguns were dragged out onto the battlefield. They were attempting to complete their target; eliminate me, Agent 006, Alec Trevelyan. Charming. I’m going to die with a firing squad facing me. Bullets through the face. Painful experience.

No. I’d take it like a man. I wouldn’t abort the mission. I pulled out a hand grenade and hurled it (pin out of course) over into a crowd of soldiers. KABOOM. The platoon was blown away, but their weapons were preserved.

I took a minigun and aimed at the hut that was neatly placed in the snowy, white earth. Guards surfaced, forcing through the snow grasping assault rifles, five bullets in one. Swell.

I leant out with my cruddy Excabana 2000, three bullets per shot. I could just about kill a flea. If that. No, I leant out with my… der… der… der… minigun! Fifteen bullets per shot! Yummy! Blood splatting everywhere. Snow stained red with blood. They must be nutters to kill themselves just for one stupid computer. Pathetic. I’d get to the computer and destroy it once and for all. Wipe all the data from the database. Set the missile to explode in the grounds, attack the weapon cache and escape with the seven hostages. I would complete the objectives.

I’d been launched in by parachute and Q Branch had given me a few gadgets. A data copier; it could copy information off one computer, or off a disk onto another disk. I also had three bomb defuser’s to plug into the computers so that I could get into the security computer and abort the launch of the nuclear missile and set it to explode. And last but not least, a skeleton key to unlock the hostage cells.

Failing the mission or getting captured would leave MI6 the laughing stock of the community. I dived out, minigun spinning, bullets a-firing, blood a-shedding, bodies a-falling, weapons a-clattering. People falling backwards. My clothes growing stiffer as the ice coats them. The snow crunching crisp beneath my feet as I sidestep through the snow. I wear a bulletproof vest and bulletproof shin guards.

I pulled back the trigger and bullets ripped through the air. Rearranging a guards face. 15 bullets through the face. Yummy! I shot down a few more, then headed for the military cache. I darted through the door as it began to close and only just made it in. I grabbed the rocket launcher from off the side, and opened the door. I aimed it into the midst of the people. I pulled back the trigger and a rocket pounded into the middle of the soldiers and blasted them into outer space.

I pulled out a spare uniform and got changed. I left a model of me dressed in my clothes and escaped down a set of stairs that led away. I was in a maze of underground tunnels. I opened a simple wooden door that blocked my path and slipped in ducking behind a metal crate. Bullets ripped through the air over my head. I lobbed a hand grenade over into the pile of soldiers and it exploded clearing the corridor. I ran along and picked up the ammunition. I climbed upon a ledge above the door and set a small bomb below the door. The door opened and a crowd of people came in. I detonated the bomb and half the soldiers got blown away. I hung upside down and shot into the middle of the soldiers. A ton dropped dead and I took a rocket launcher out. HOOM HOOM HA HA HA. YUMMY!

I dropped from my perch like a falcon moving daringly. I entered the room.

It had two air tanks filled with a blue-silvery substance and a hideous creature in both of them. I went to the life support computer and powered down the energy. They let out a terrible cry before exploding. Blood and guts powered through the glass. I had to dive backwards to avoid being caught in a shower of shards of glass. I merely missed being caught in the after lurch as the whole machines exploded. I crawled through the bones. I turned back and scanned the memory with my data copier and loaded up the security door passwords. I also found that the missile bay doors and the blast doors had been locked with the well guarded, secret data installation room computer.

I had to get there.

I drew my AR33 Assault Rifle and approached the broad door.

“I’ve gotta go kick some ass.”

I attached a two metre radius explosive to the door.

Knock, knock, knock. I rapped on the door. I backed away and pulled out my detonation watch.

“Come to Dada!”

I drew out my throwing knife and attached it to the bomb so its metal would attract the detonation signals. Then I backed away from the door.

“Come on. Come on!”

I heard the password being entered so I knew someone was on the other side. I did a short detonation and blasted the defenceless infantry away.

“Lovely jubilee!”

I waited till I heard chattering on the other side of more than ten people, then I made my move. I pressed the button and blasted the infantry away. To make it better I did a double fireworks display. BOOM. BOOM. The door no longer existed, nor did the door frame. Bodies lay scattered in the doorway. Weaponry scattered. Painful.

They got in my way, they died. Their problem. They should learn. Big style.

I looked about the corridor, there was only one apparent exit so I used it. I passed through the door (it was open obviously) into a secretary office. A guard stood unaware so I just blew his brains out with a high power 9mm. I dragged his bulled tattered body to a storage cupboard and disposed of his body. It was no ordinary cupboard, it was a bottomless pit in disguise as a cupboard.

On the desk was a key and a computer, some papers and a black mouse shape with a red button set into it.  Up the corner sat a safe. It was locked by a key. I took the key from the desk and tried it in the lock. It fit perfectly and turned smoothly. The safe opened and inside were full plans of the building and the blueprints of a highly formatted stealth helicopter. I took a look at the plans. According to them, I was in the security base. The centre of the security depot. Curses.

I took my sniper rifle and aimed it through the cranny that lay aside. The cache lay down there. I took out a mask of the persons face in the corridor. I slipped it on and got into costume. I set a bomb in the doorway and pressed the alarm for attendance. Soldiers smashed down the door.

“Where’s the prob, boss?!”

“Up that corridor there is a gang of intruders! I wish you to dispose of them!”

“Right away boss!” he cried, saluting. Then he turned and ordered his troops up the tunnel. The tunnel of death. A few seconds after they had entered the tunnel, the tunnel went boom. About twenty troops ran in.

“You’re under arrest on suspicion of traitory!”

“But it was not me, it was the man with the rubber head!”

“Take him away boys!”

“No, you don’t understand. It was the man with the rubber head! Comprendai!?”

“Shut it you wacko!”

“But I’m not a wacko, it was not me! You don’t understand!”

The cuffs were pulled out. My AR33 was also pulled out, but not by them… by me!

“You don’t listen. It was not me, it was the Edi! But you wouldn’t listen. And you chief, I like you the best so I’ll kill you last!”

Bullets tore through the air. Bodies hit the floor. Blood was spilt.

I reached out and grabbed the chief by his collar. I hung him over a pool of man eating piranhas.

“You know I said I’d kill you last. Well I lied.”

He tumbled down into the pool and the piranhas went to work. Every now and then he would appear, thrashing his arms wildly trying to escape. The piranhas were too quick though, and made short work of him.

I drew my swiss army knife and set to work tearing through the walls. I knew that there should be a ventilation duct there big enough for me to get through. I found it. I clambered in and began to climb my way along the tunnel. Thank God I’m not claustrophobic, I would probably pass out! I got out the plans of the building and scanned where I was and where I had got to go. At the moment I was in tunnel S2 and I wanted to get to tunnel S6. I would have to continue to the cross section then turn right, then second left and I’d be there.

So I began to head down the tunnel when I came to a tunnel not marked on my plans. My curiosity overwhelmed me and I had to investigate. So I turned and headed into the gloom that clung in the air like an unwanted germ. I continued into the dense area until I emerged in an airing closet.

I looked through a cranny and noticed ahead lay a deserted corridor. The plans did not have it labelled on the map. Strange, I thought. I opened the door and headed to the very end of the corridor. It came to an abrupt end with a lift on the end. Weird. Very weird. I climbed in and automatically it began to lower into the mushy earth. Suddenly it tipped on its side and I was hurled against the metal wall.

Everything went black.

When I awoke I was sitting in a chair, tied down with a fat guy dressed in black, Dimitri Mishkin sitting in front of me.

“So you like to come here blowing up places, killing soldiers, sneaking through vents. Well it stops, or else people will start to get hurt. Bring in the hostage Gd” he called, and instantly a white faced, crooked man hobbled in, gagged and tied up. “People like him, ha, ha, ha!”

“Go on, laugh until your fat head falls off. I have a mission to complete, and I’m going to complete it.”

“Big words for such a small man. I admire your courage, shame it will not last.”

He pressed a button beneath the desk and a pit opened in front of me.

“Goodbye, Trevelyan.”

I tumbled forward into the pit, surrounded by blackness as I tumbled into the deep chasm. I landed on a solid surface. Cliff faces climbed steeply towards the top. So did I. Suddenly the walls began to move together and it seemed I was going to die, until a strong hand shot down and grabbed mine.

“007!” I exclaimed. “Where’s ditty Dimitri?”

“He made a run when me and the squat reinforcement team 5 came in.”

“What were you armed with?”

“An RCP-90.”

“What’s got into boss? I thought he’d give you a rubbish gun!”

“Huh, you did?”

“What was I supposed to think?”

I picked up a pad on the table. It had notes in it telling where they had gone. They had gone by plane to Statue Park in St. Petersberg. I drew my… der… der… derrr… mobile phone. I rang the HQ. M Branch received on the other end.

“Hello?”

“M Branch!” I exclaimed.

“Trevelyan, I thought you were dead…”

“Well you thought wrong. Look. Dimitri on the run. He’s in Statue Park in St. Petersberg, Russia. Can you cut him off?”

Them words were followed by silence.

“M Branch, are you there?” I trailed off.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good!”

I put away my mobile and drew my PP7.

“Bye 007!”

I pulled back the trigger.

“Why did you shoot me Trevelyan?!”

“Because you’re a traitor. I know you killed Natalya Simonova and I know you gave away valuable information that only a second bodyguard could get. Valid information. You were the only second bodyguard we had.”

“But it was not me! It was the man with the rubber head!”

We both had a good laugh, then he keeled over with blood oozing from the cross wound in his chest.

I looked out. Boris Grishenko stood playing on a computer. For a few seconds then, I put a sniper rifle cartridge through his head. He was not an MI6 operative; he was a Janus team man. That is why he died. Then I turned to see Baron Samedi come running through the door grasping an uzi.

“Pasta lavesta, Trevelyan! Why do you have to leave us so soon?”

“I’m not, you are!”

“Wanna bet?”

I pulled out my AR33 Assault Rifle and pumped a few bullets through his chest. Oh yeah, I’ve just remembered, he didn’t even have a chest! I left the room with my two ZMG 9mm’s drawn and fully loaded. Oddjob ran out of a dark side tunnel. I fired off a few hundred rounds into his thick skill. Skin pierced and blood oozing he managed two last words into his mic; “shoot high”.

I dropped to the floor.

“Oddjob, I’ll see you in hell!” and fired a few more rounds through him.

Bullets tore through the air over my head. “Missed! I always was better than you, Jaws!”

I blew a few clips through his foot. I blew out his kneecap, and he lay on the floor rolling around grasping his knee trying to stop the bleeding. I put him out of his misery.

I picked up his uzi and D5K Deusche silenced; yummy!

I walked out and down the narrow corridor leading away. Suddenly I burst through the wall and into the garden. I was blocked in by a broad stone wall. Troops dropped from the rooves clutching automatic shotguns, single barrelled. It didn’t bother me though, because I simply pulled out my grenade launcher and just sat back to watch the fireworks. Blood and guts went flying. I think I ruined a few families. Good.

“Trevelyan! You’re out of control! You don’t mean to shoot our men!”

“Are you sure about that M Branch? I think you’ll have to think on that one!”

I lay down the mic and set the missile to explode.

“This is all the time you have to live.”

The countdown began.

“Do you want to die?”

I stepped away onto the path that led away. I strode away. The countdown had begun.

224. 223. 222. 221. 220. 219. 218…

I ran and hung off the left landing stabiliser of the helicopter. The helicopter that the hostages, Mayday and Mishkin were in. All I had to do was rescue the hostages and kill Mayday and Mishkin. Oh yeah, and get back to the HQ. We had risen about 8700 metres off the ground when the base blew up.

“Asta lavesta baby!” I cried as I set the hostages on parachutes and attached a remote mine to the bottom of the aircraft. I pulled out my watch and jumped… well parachuted off the bottom. I did a freefall about 2000 feet before opening my parachute. I looked up as shards of helicopter powered down. It had blown.

When I reached the HQ, I realised M Branch was still alive. So I made sure he wasn’t. And Q Branch as well. Then I found Moneypenny. Well things had always been fine between me and Moneypenny so we got to business and moved country.

As people always say, all’s well that ends well.

That’s what I thought until I got home with Moneypenny. Guards appeared from behind bushes grasping ZMG’s.

“Oh sugar and spice!” I cried. “Moneypenny, you traitor! I’ll see you in hell!”

I pulled out a rocket launcher out of my back pocket. I blew her away. The second the rocket hit her, she blew to Mars.

“You’re under arrest pal.”

“Wanna bet?” I exclaimed, pulling out my rocket launcher. “Wanna bet?”

Short Story: The Outpost

 The Outpost

I turned and looked into his cold and unforgiving eyes.

It was a wet winters morning, snow swirled in a cool grey mist. It left a white coat of coldness.

I was in a playground and the wind swept beneath my feet. The cold crept silently up my trouser leg and froze me.

“I’m, f.. f… freezing!” I managed to cry out. “I’m gonna catch b.. b… blinking pneumonia out h… h… here!”

Yes, it’s true. I was exaggerating but I mean, you have to, or they’d leave you stranded until you turned to a blinking icicle!

I turned and stared into his cold and unforgiving eyes.

He glared at me as if I was some alien life-form and muttered something under his breath what I didn’t quite catch.

I returned my token of appreciation; a punch in the chops and a bus ticket to the west coast.

I wondered why he didn’t like me? See it from my point of view. I am Gary Chatfield and I’m twelve years old. I’m thin, bony and sad. Mr Averill hates me, but who can blame him? I mean, I don’t like him either but the difference being I don’t go and broadcast it around the school. (Only because I don’t want detention.) Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good maths teacher, but the catch being, everyone hates him.

I hate the old immature grump basically because every time something goes wrong it’s “Gary Chatfield, see me after this period” or when Simon (Swotty) Heath gets a sum wrong, it’s “stop putting him off Gary!” I mean, it’s totally out of order.

I suppose that’s why I got rid of him. I did make a good cause of his body. I bunged it off to Jeremy Beadle. You know him don’t you, that guy off television with the show that if you have a sense of humour, you laugh at.

Well. Let’s start at the beginning. Twas a cold winters day and my second period was maths with Mr. Averill (the teacher who everyone apart from me sucks up to). I went in chewing some gum, and almost before I’d got through the door the voice echoed through my head (nearly but not quite deafening me).

“Master Chatfield, get rid of that gum.”

“Boss!” I replied instantly, doing the army salute. I spat the gum (which had lost the flavour anyway) into the manky metal rusty tin can what Mr. Averill called a bin. It was already bursting at the rim with pieces of waste paper scribbled on, so the gum basically jumped back out onto the cold tiled floor.

That’s right, believe it or not, the room contains no carpet at all. It would have been better even if it were a frayed carpet. But still, no carpet. The room was so bare because it contained no carpet whatsoever, and had no wallpaper either. They had just plain gravel based stone walls. Also it had only wooden desks that had been drawn all over in a B4 pencil. The alternative was that they had been inscribed with a Nazi sign. It was inscribed two feet deep.

That’s right, I’m exaggerating again, but you have to don’t you?

I had got off to a bad start that day, so I was not in the mood for any lip off Mr. Averill so when I got kicked out of class I could not bear it. I got the fire axe, and charged down the door like an enraged beast. I charged at Mr. Averill axe raised about my head! I brough it down into Mr. Averill’s head! THWOCK. The sound echoed through the hollow classroom, and Mr. Averill let out a high pitched scream. It pierced through the still air like a bullet from a gun.

The class stood rooted to the spot all staring at me.

I brought it down and it thundered through Mr. Averill’s neck. His head tumbled noisily to the floor, and rolled around until it came to a sudden stop next to my foot. I looked down at the axe blade smeared with blood. It began to drop to the floor, leaving a pool of blood surrounding my feet. I let the axe fall to the floor. I stood there struck dumb with fear. Fear of someone, anyone, telling the police. So I made sure they didn’t. CHOP. CHOP. CHOP.

I then went on a murder spree around the town stealing cars. Soon I was haring around town in a stolen blue Porsche with the whole squat reinforcement team hot in pursuit. I gave it more gas, although the wind stung my face as it came through my open window. I did not stop or attempt to shut my window. I didn’t stop for fear of being caught. I raced out of town and into the deserts of Fidoland. I was in a blinding, sparkly blue Porsche and it’s engine roared like it was running out of fuel.

The car kicked up an almighty cloud of dust that got into the police cars, making them come to sudden jerky stops. The police officers swarmed out of the patrol cars, choking and tears welling up their eyes.

I pulled out my mobile and dialled. Shortly after, the phone was picked up.

“Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?”

I did not reply. Eventually the person on the other end gave up hope and hung up. I packed up my mobile and slung it out of the car into the desert. You may be puzzled why? Well, here’s your answer. I could not have anybody tracing my call and then tracking down where I am.

“Right” I said to myself, “Davy boy’ home, I’ll pay him a little visit I think.”

I pulled out my Gold PP7 and swerved my car violently to face Bergon. I gave it some gas and headed toward the small tow of Pevilyn which was just north of Bergon. I aimed my revolver at the sign post and shot at it, making  a successful bullseye into the roundabout. I shot towards the small town of Pevilyn singing to myself.

I screeched onto the road and straight across onto the dirt track that reached out of sight. Up ahead I recognised the darkened silhouette of a police patrol car and about five police officers making a barricade.

“That ain’t gonna stop me!” I cried putting in full gas. The pedal touched the floor as I shot toward the barricade in my blue Porsche. The surroundings seemed to dissolve as I whizzed towards that barricade. The speedometer reached 156mph. I approached the officers and barricade. CRASH.

I burst through the barricade. I avoided the police car but smashed into the five officers, sending their bodies splatting upon the windscreen. Blood.

I smelt burning. My tyres, I realised! They’re giving in on me!

Suddenly my tyres left my car. They shot off, on fire. They were scorching and smoke fizzed off them. I saw sparks shooting from my wheels. I panicked. I grabbed my Gold PP7 and burst open the door. I then did a clever thing that saved my life; I flung my body out of the car. Just in time.

A few moments later the old rusty shell caught fire and capsized. I found myself flipping down a dark embankment. I at last came to rest in a dusty cavern. I realised that I was in a mine. Light filtered through a mine shaft that had been left open. I ran over. There I found the pulley itself. I was overjoyed! Although the pulley itself did not work, there was a rope that I may possibly climb.

I did climb, but only just as moments later the rope fell down and landed uncoiled in a dull heap. I needed a lift of some sort, so my attention was caught by a zip-line that led across a chasm. I grabbed the old bent rusty holder and yelled (for what it was worth):

“Pevilyn, here I come!”

I swung dangerously off the cliff and down to the grassy bank. It was anyone’s guess where I was. I noticed that the night was drawing in and a dark night settled onto the bank. I lay down and fell into a dreamless sleep.

When I awoke the next day, I went to the woods to hunt for food. I grabbed my Gold PP7 and shot at a poor defenceless deer. Blood spurted out. I picked up my dinner and skinned it with my ornamented swiss army knife. It had a green handle with a rune of a silver bullet and my initials inscribed into it. I folded it up and slipped it into my denims back pocket.

Then I dug my teeth into the fresh tender venison. It was very tender and very meaty. It had plenty of flavour. It was meatier than I had imagined and I licked my lips. I then discarded the carcass on the cliff edge. I ventured further into the misty dense copse. The mist surrounded me like towering walls. The silence was deadly. I darted in between the short stout broad trees. I was now deeper into the copse. There was a chill in the air and as the mist rose I could see down between the trees.

I finally got out of the forest and onto the road again. Ahead was an oasis or so it seemed, but as I approached it vanished into thin air.

“It must have been a mirage” I though as it thinned out so I could not even see it.

Then I saw a four wheel drive, off the road vehicle. It was a miracle. It was very rusty and didn’t look much like a car at all, but it was obvious what it was. I ran over to it and clambered into the old, torn drivers seat. The old rusty, manky drivers keys were still inserted into the slot. The dashboard was falling apart, and pieces of ash floated about the clogged up interior. It was misty with ash and the smell of petrol hung in the air like an unwanted germ. The smell was really horrendous and made me choke. My eyes were watering and I had to waft my hand to blast the smell away from my face.

I revved up the engine and it kicked into gear. The cars engine rocketed to life and it wasn’t long before I was speeding towards Pevilyn in the little banger. The gear stick was a bit cranky but after a couple of bootings it kicked into gear. I sped down the road in the small little banger. Soon I looked at my gas gauge and realised I was running out of fuel. The gauge showed virtually empty so I decided to discard the car. It was rubbish anyway, so I didn’t really care.

Whilst I was running through the contents of the boot I came across some items that might be helpful. They were; a packet of cigarettes, a jack, a box of matches, a petrol tank, a lighter, a machete, a rifle, a bazooka, some hand grenades, a jemmie, a bludgeon, a set of flame drops, a flamethrower and an RCP-90. I also found a canvas rucksack which I used to carry the items. I lit a cigarette and kicked it toward the old banger. WHOOSH. The car went up in flames. It was still in flames when the police came.

That’s right, they had tracked me down. Luckily (for me) they were out of ammunition. I rummaged through the rucksack and retrieved the rifle. I pulled it from the rucksack and aimed at the police.

“Back away!” I called. “Back away, or I will shoot.”

The police took cover behind the patrol cars. I began shooting wild rapid shots at the vehicles. The bullets dented the bonnets, and smashed the windscreens. Soon the police cars were all ablaze and all had dented bodywork and chipped paintwork. Behind me I saw the town of Pevilyn just vaguely on the horizon. I turned and looked at the police officers. I ran towards the police patrol cars and attacked the officers one by one.

I did one in by using the butt of my rifle as a ram rod. You know, a couple well aimed blows to the head and splat, they drop dead. I did another one in by doing an uncontrolled bicycle kick. That was fun. I did another one in by giving him a kiss; not just any kiss though, a Glaswegian kiss. In other words, a headbutt. I did in another with my machete, you know SLISH SLASH SLISH SLASH.

But then I was beating another one up, and I was grabbed by Sgt Slater. He pushed me to the floor then cuffed me. No matter what I did to scramble free, his hands held me in a vice like grip. His hands were ice cold against my skin. They were really cold for such high temperatures.

“You’re coming with me to the nick, sonny.”

“No I’m not mate!” I said coldly, “not over your dead body!”

A gunshot made me turn, and there was the chief constable.

“You wanna make something of it?” he said in a raspy voice.

“Yea’ah” I said, “It ain’t worth it.”

Then he struck me in the kneecap with his oiled lead pistol. Actually, he tried to hit me, but I beat him to it. I spun and flung Sgt Slater over me on top of the chief constable. I’m surprised the chief didn’t bounce back up, the fat Jabba! I then bust the handcuffs and made a run for my canvas rucksack.

I was beat to it by PC Ashton, but it doesn’t take long for a dan black in Karate to take out someone. I spun and did a flying backspin knocking him dazed, then I turned and did a scissor kick taking out his groin and then his face. He tumbled to the floor.

I grabbed the rucksack and charged onto the road to Pevilyn. Up ahead I saw a mob of police so I took out my RCP-90 and in one well aimed blast, blew the police unit to Atlanta and left a crater in the road.

I clambered into the crater and examined the crumbling rocky surface.

“Good shot” I said to myself, “for a beginner.”

I ran along through a gaping hole and whilst I ran, the hole seemed to grow. It was actually just me letting my imagination run away, but it turned out that it was actually deepening. I turned and tried to claw my way out but to no avail because there were no hand holds or feet holds. I grabbed the RCP-90 and blasted holes through the wall to leave a tunnel. Suddenly I heard crumbling and I had to grab the rucksack before it was buried beneath a heavy pile of waste rubbish. I was trapped.

I pulled out my lighter and lit a naked flame. I could make out that I was in a short space about 400ft underground, heading away from my home destination. I turned and burrowed diagonally upwards until I felt some metal. It was thin corrugated iron. I pulled out my petrol tank and poured it onto the corrugated iron. I threw a lit match into the petrol, and very quickly ran (well, rather slid) along the tunnel. Moments later an explosion echoed through it. Rusty metal collapsed through the tunnel, which meant a hole was now in the thin corrugated iron. I dug into the soil and eventually burst through the ground into a town.

People stared down at me as I dusted myself off, as if I was an alien just appeared.

“What are you staring at?” I said to a group of muddy street urchins huddled closely together on the edge of the pavement. “Believe it or not, I’m not… I mean, it’s not like… like… like you’ve never seen a human being burrow through the floor!” I said hesitating before continuing. “I am Gary… I mean… err… err… er… Pete Chapterel” I said nodding slowly. “Pete Chapterel” I repeated as if getting to know the name.

People started to lose interest and wandered back towards their houses. I turned to see a police officer staring at me. I realised it was Slater! He pulled out his oiled police slick gun and aimed it at my chest! I dived aside just as the bullet whipped up my hair. I gasped and rolled over in the sand. My breathing became more slow, then rapid, as Slater began shooting at me. Luckily he did not get a clear shot because I was rolling about, a real mad target! Eventually, he shot me and cuffed me and took me to the nick where I was put under lock and key.

I was later questioned.

Slater: “Where were you between the hours of 10:00 and 08:00?”

“As if you don’t know.”

Slater: “It’s for the benefit of the tape.”

I smirked. “Why should I tell you?”

Slater: “What is your name?”

“Mary Jane.”

Slater: “I am now asking the suspect where he was between the hours of 10:00 and 08:00.”

“I was at my house, with Tom Thumb.”

Slater: “I am now showing the suspect evidence piece AB7. What is this?” he questioned, showing my a mobile phone in a plastic carrier bag.

“Thought you’d know?”

Slater: “I am not getting anywhere with the suspect so I’m terminating the interview at…” he trailed off to look at his watch. “At 10:45. I will put him under lock and key until 09:00 hours tomorrow.”

And that was that.

I could not escape. All I could do is go with the police to the grey, dark cell. The place was shadowed and the bricks were rough and coarse. I had two options. I could either wait and get questioned, or I could make a jail break. I made my decision.

Soon I was haring down the highway toward Pevilyn. On the radio there was a broadcast about the jail break, it went something along these lines:

“There has been a jail break from Bergon Crown Jail. Could all units within the area please report to the base.”

I was in a patrol car racing between old derelict houses, so won’t that seem suspicious? One police car on its own? I was lucky because no one came along, so no one saw me.

I jumped out of the car onto the side ditch. It was a trench half filled with sloppy mud and rolls of spare turf. I rolled and sunk into the mud as if it were quicksand. I grabbed out onto thin air and sunk further in.

I was heaved out by a strong set of hands that were strangely familiar.

Slater.

“You little! I could of guessed you…” I trailed off when I saw his face. It was gentle and loving. Until I opened my canvas rucksack and made a bomb. Hand grenades. Matches. Lighters. Flame drops and a flamethrower to blow up the whole police patrol. I carried my own made bomb over to the police car.

“What are you going to do with that?” he demanded.

“Blast the police patrol to Las Vegas!” I replied.

“No you’re not.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you’re nicked.”

“Why, who’s gonna nick me, eh?” I asked.

“Don’t trya be smart with me sonny!”

“I’m not trying anything. I am being smart!” I said dropping a flame drop to the floor next to him.

“Byeee!”

I jumped through the window onto the roof of the conservatory below. Well. Rather I fell onto the conservatory roof and went straight through and landed on top of a woman sleeping below!

She awoke.

“Excuse me!” I said rather awkwardly.

“Arghhhh” she screamed. And she screamed even more as the bomb went off.

I slipped off the bed and onto the rough floor. Then a man burst in and I made a dash for the door. It was jammed so I threw myself through the door! The wood splintered and glass shards spun through the air. I dropped to the floor in a heap. Blood.

I ran along, blood dripping from my arms and legs as I ran. I turned to see a man waving his arms wildly, chasing me. I turned, pulled out my bomb and hurled it at him. BOOM.

The bomb went off and the man exploded. Guts and body organs exploded at the roadside.

I slowed down to catch my breath when a pair of cold hands clutched mine.

“I am arresting you on suspicion of murder and thievery. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be given as evidence and used against you in the courts of law. Do you understand?”

His thin, bony elbow dug into my back.

I turned onto my back sadly.

“I understand.”

“CUT”

“BRILLIANT REHEARSAL BOYS, BRILLIANT REHEARSAL!”

I got to my feet. “And my wage” I said, “is how much?”

“None” he replied promptly.

I launched onto him grasping his throat in both hands. “How much!?” I said.

“Help me” he screamed, “Guards, help me!”

Two burly bouncers burst through the door and grabbed me dragging me out. “You’re out mate” they called.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my automatic. “How much?” I asked.