Post by Jack Walker on Aug 7, 2017 21:18:57 GMT -5
Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!
The word kept running through Jack's mind as he sped down the abandoned streets in the slum of Detroit. Normally he wouldn't be the one on the run, but this time it wasn't who was chasing him, but rather what. Three hollows. Not one, not two, but three bloody hollows at the same time. His mind was racing as he quickly tried to come up with a plan. This had gone to hell in a hand basket rather quickly, and it was becoming quite clear that Jack was gonna need more than a little help. His motorcycle thankfully was keeping him ahead of the hollows, if only just, and he was running out of streets. He could try to fight, but that wouldn't end well. One on one he'd have a chance, but they didn't seem like the kind to wait for their turns. He leaned hard left into the next turn as he fought to keep control of his bike, the rough street working against him just as the hollows were. He was just thankful that for the most part the hollows seemed feral, meaning he could probably -
"Join us...... Feed us...... Become us......" Their voices cried out in unison, clashing with each other almost painfully.
Goddammit, there goes that idea.
Jack looked around as he tried to spot something to help. Someone to help. Nothing. And that's when he finally hit a pothole in the road, causing his rear tire to pop from the punishment. Jack expertly slid the bike, doing his best to maintain both balance and control as he rapidly decelerated. This was supposed to be an easy job. Pick up a few gang bangers who thought they'd made their big break into the world of Cocaine distribution. Problem was they pissed off a lot of people.
And those people didn't waste time in pointing the idiots out.
When Jack had turned them over he'd felt their presence, seen his cross start to glow. A glow that for most was only visible to him. And so he investigated. And one thing lead to another. And now he was on a rapidly slowing bike on the abandoned street in the shit hole that is Detroit, probably about to die. He almost rolled his eyes at the thought. He figured he'd died abroad years ago in the Army. Not exactly how he pictured it.
He finally rolled off the bike and onto the street, his armor and heavy clothing absorbing the impact and shielding him from the scrapes of the pavement. At least he had that working for him. He first curled up, getting his center of gravity, and then sprung out his feet for the landing. His boots skidded across the street a short distance before coming to a stop his body low and a single hand forward to brace himself as his right hand curled into a fist around his family cross. The light was bright now, almost blinding, as in a flash his Swiss saber formed in his hand and Jack stood in a defensive stance. And not a moment too soon as the first hollow came tearing at him, Jack barely dodging it as the second was right behind it, using the blade of the sword to deflect the hollow's mask and very sharp teeth away from his face. The two dog like hollows landed lithely, one scratching at it's face for a brief second before they started circling around Jack. The third, much larger and obviously the leader, stood on all fours right in front of him. It's wolfish grin and beady red eyes were unnerving, and Jack made sure not to focus on it as he tried to watch all three for the slightest movement towards him. Jack growled at them as he grew impatient.
"Well, get on with it! I haven't got all goddamned day for this shit,"
The word kept running through Jack's mind as he sped down the abandoned streets in the slum of Detroit. Normally he wouldn't be the one on the run, but this time it wasn't who was chasing him, but rather what. Three hollows. Not one, not two, but three bloody hollows at the same time. His mind was racing as he quickly tried to come up with a plan. This had gone to hell in a hand basket rather quickly, and it was becoming quite clear that Jack was gonna need more than a little help. His motorcycle thankfully was keeping him ahead of the hollows, if only just, and he was running out of streets. He could try to fight, but that wouldn't end well. One on one he'd have a chance, but they didn't seem like the kind to wait for their turns. He leaned hard left into the next turn as he fought to keep control of his bike, the rough street working against him just as the hollows were. He was just thankful that for the most part the hollows seemed feral, meaning he could probably -
"Join us...... Feed us...... Become us......" Their voices cried out in unison, clashing with each other almost painfully.
Goddammit, there goes that idea.
Jack looked around as he tried to spot something to help. Someone to help. Nothing. And that's when he finally hit a pothole in the road, causing his rear tire to pop from the punishment. Jack expertly slid the bike, doing his best to maintain both balance and control as he rapidly decelerated. This was supposed to be an easy job. Pick up a few gang bangers who thought they'd made their big break into the world of Cocaine distribution. Problem was they pissed off a lot of people.
And those people didn't waste time in pointing the idiots out.
When Jack had turned them over he'd felt their presence, seen his cross start to glow. A glow that for most was only visible to him. And so he investigated. And one thing lead to another. And now he was on a rapidly slowing bike on the abandoned street in the shit hole that is Detroit, probably about to die. He almost rolled his eyes at the thought. He figured he'd died abroad years ago in the Army. Not exactly how he pictured it.
He finally rolled off the bike and onto the street, his armor and heavy clothing absorbing the impact and shielding him from the scrapes of the pavement. At least he had that working for him. He first curled up, getting his center of gravity, and then sprung out his feet for the landing. His boots skidded across the street a short distance before coming to a stop his body low and a single hand forward to brace himself as his right hand curled into a fist around his family cross. The light was bright now, almost blinding, as in a flash his Swiss saber formed in his hand and Jack stood in a defensive stance. And not a moment too soon as the first hollow came tearing at him, Jack barely dodging it as the second was right behind it, using the blade of the sword to deflect the hollow's mask and very sharp teeth away from his face. The two dog like hollows landed lithely, one scratching at it's face for a brief second before they started circling around Jack. The third, much larger and obviously the leader, stood on all fours right in front of him. It's wolfish grin and beady red eyes were unnerving, and Jack made sure not to focus on it as he tried to watch all three for the slightest movement towards him. Jack growled at them as he grew impatient.
"Well, get on with it! I haven't got all goddamned day for this shit,"
Word Count: 651 Total Word Count: 651
