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    dots Submission Name: Franticdots

    Author: Eyamma
    ASL Info:    16/Sry, I'm taken/Alabama
    Elite Ratio:    4.71 - 22/21/77
    Words: 1500
    Class/Type: Story/Misc
    Total Views: 1253
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 9106

       Sometimes I write random scenes that pop into my mind. They never really last far passed that, unless it really catches me. But I can't seem to get it out of my mind until I write it out.

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.


    Heart pounding, blood rushing.
    Breath stalling, lungs heaving.
    Stone colliding with stone.
    Slap, slap, slap.

    I threw my body forward while letting my legs swing back and forth with the momentum, my bones grinding into each other.

    Gravity had never felt heavier.

    With each long stride I felt like my joints were giving way, as though I could implode at any second. Not to mention the immense strain on my lungs as I gulped in huge gasps of air.
    I had no time to steady my breathing.

    My ears rung with the sharp smacking of my shoes crashing into hard cement.
    Though the pavement was worn, the damp sheen covering the streets with a small layer of rainwater made my movements increasingly loud.

    Splash, splash, splash.

    I felt like I was slowly sinking into the mush I drudged through, my strides becoming more and more lethargic to me. Though I hadn't broken my incredible pace the whole way.

    It wasn't enough, I still have two miles to go...two long miles. It felt like years would pass before I reached my destination.

    Surely I would be too late.
    But no, I couldn't!

    My leg muscles shiver in agonized strain as I force them to take longer, quicker strides.

    I had to make it. Even if I half killed myself in the process.


    It was massive collision of violent bodies and spewing blood.
    Heads lolling to the ground, limbs crushed, wailing battle cries and mashing of bone and metal.

    Then, sticking out like a sore thumb, a gleaming blade rose to the blazing sky, above the conglomeration of flying weapons and flesh.

    The bearer of this sword held himself with precision and predatorily baring his sharp, pointed teeth at the onslaught surrounding him.
    He was a warrior ripped from the pages, tall, looming figure with broad shoulders and strong facial structures. His eyes glowed behind pure black strands of sweat-covered hair that clung to his dirtied face.
    His eyes were the color of the breaking heavens. Rays of orange, yellow, and even small flecks of purple or blue.
    It was the first morning light, the last plunge of sun before total darkness.
    The first and last breath. Beginning and end.

    And just as his eyes foretold, he gave any opponent a swift ending.
    Swinging his blade above his head and cutting their heads clean off their necks or plunging it fiercely into their chest before ripping it back out as they fall to their knees before him, in agony.

    He kicks his feet off the ground, flipping a few feet over a few dozen attackers, their greedy fingers desperately reaching out for him as though he were a deluxe platter.
    Slamming his boots into the back of one of them, he lands to the ground with a sickening crack as their spine shatter underneath his weight.

    An ear piercing screech makes the others gathered around him flinch and tear toward him. Though they always fought among each other, he was still their main target.

    He spins around, balancing perfectly on one foot as he slits the throat of the slobbering creature raging toward his right flank with his razor sharp blade.
    Ignoring the hot blood that spurts into his face he kicks himself from the ground again, doing a black flip and pulling out two smaller blades from the heel of his boots and plunging them into the skulls of the two closest bodies to him.

    He doesn't think of the repulsion he feels when one of them brushes their boiled, mangled hand across his stomach, like a loving caress, as it crumples to the ground, dead.

    Instead he smirks, raising a hand to beckon them to him.
    It said a lot about his character.

    He was covered head to toe in blood and grime, as though he'd massacred the whole town, yet the entire landing was still crawling with those nasty creatures.
    You couldn't even see the progress he had made because they kept coming, endlessly.

    But, even this didn't seem to discourage the warrior. His head held high as he stared down the oncoming horde of raging enemies.

    There wasn't a trace of fear in his sunrise eyes. There was only her.

    Turn, keep going, turn, turn.
    The maze was endless and I was certain I'd become lost.

    I'd turned down five different alley-ways, and then crossed two streets. Yet, the signs that I was almost there was still not in my view.

    I thought I was going to lose my mind. I couldn't give up.
    But where in the world was it?!

    I strained and strained. I ran and ran.
    There was no more water left in my body. I'd bleed it all out through my pores, I was soaked in the stench of it.

    But I was a survivor. I'd become accustomed to this, feeling so tired that I was certain I couldn't take one more step. Yet, somehow, making myself anyway.
    That was the key to surviving.
    Don't. Stop. Running.

    I was restless, I was crazed. Twisting my body around tight corners and practically throwing myself over fallen debris.
    Before, it was just the slippery pavement I had to worry about, but as I got closer to their arrival location, everything was post-apocalyptic style.
    Making my voyage that much harder.
    Every second was a waste. Every second I could lose him.

    I felt panicked tears creasing my eyes.
    My breath was gone.
    I felt the crisp autumn air rip at my skin.
    My stomach was hollow.

    But it was only for a fleeting second that I was well aware that I hadn't made the wrong turn and that I was exactly on the right track.
    Because in a flash second I flew passed the barbed wired fence leading out to the landing I had been searching for.

    My body fell forward and I landed flat on my face as I scramble viciously back to my feet, back tracking to the opening that lead to the barbed wired fence.

    I'd never hurled my body over a fence like I did then. It was almost as if I was standing on top of my shivering body, yanking at it strings like I was a puppet master.
    I had no regard for personal pain. This was something that one must overcome very quickly in dire situations.
    Flesh ripping, blood leaking.
    Metal tearing, barbs clinging to my skin.

    I felt like I was Jesus Christ being nailed to the cross.
    I'm sure the hurricane of emotions inside of me could compare to how he felt, being forsaken like he had been.

    I remember the cracking sound as I collided with more cement on the other side of the fence.
    I'd hit my temple, no, 'cracked it wide open' was a better description, on the hard pavement.

    It was harder to ignore the wave of vertigo and dizziness as I stumbled back to my feet.
    Though there was no pain, I felt warm liquid drizzling down the side of my face.

    Not good. Passing out wasn't something I couldn't control. I needed to bandage my wound, but there was no time!
    I'd just have to take the chance since I was almost there.

    I'd fallen into a slower trot as I turned around the corner, facing the east wing of the landing.
    Sunlight poured down rays of golden as I trudged forward.
    It made my stomach uneasy, like something very pivotal to my entire life lay behind that last corner.

    And surely it, did. I didn't dare to think if it would be good or bad.

    But, I smelled them first.
    Death, and sewage; their BO.

    Then, the scene was revealed to me.

    Mutilated bodies strewn across the expanse of the landing, and farther up, more stumbling creatures looming and crowding around who I knew it would be.

    But they were frantic, which was good sign. He was obviously still putting up some sort of fight.

    And then, as though he sensed my presence he leapt from their reach, swaying recklessly on a jet wing.

    Our eyes met.
    His, blazing noon, the brightest sun.
    And mine, a breath of ocean.
    I could breathe, once again, even though my legs felt numb.
    Because all my mind could think while I looked at him was;

    He's alive.

    But that statement wouldn't last much longer if we didn't hurry.
    I felt my head spinning.

    Oh brother.

    Submitted on 2009-11-24 16:31:55     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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