Re: Battle Royale! Round 6: Wainwright Omega 57
04-21-2010, 11:38 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Drakenforge.
Mike casually examined the red shard that he held in his hand as his vectors carried him from rock to rock through the minor field of asteroids. It was the same type of gun he had looted from the last round, however, Mike distinctly remembered emptying both clips of the weapons. That, and the wielder had definitely died. He stopped daydreaming as another blow impacted off his vectors that were working as a caccoon. They seperated and waved around in the dark void, attempting to correct his tragectory. His body tilted, and soon he landed an another rock. It was less that a hundred meters until he reached the small target. He was loathing the time it was taking to travel between rocks. Every second away from Whit and Zeke ment that he could lose the chance to kill either. One of them would die, and he would be left with one last person to fight. He wondered about the end as he launched himself once more. Who would be stupid enough, if the circumstances arose, to set a psychopathic mass murderer like Mike back into civilsed reality? Mike could slaughter hundreds, even thousands of ordinary humans. It almost seemed... sad, to no longer feel the thrill of the good fights. No longer would he find someone who really pissed him off, so much so, that he could give it his all. The pain he felt during each injury, the smell of fear, the taste of his own blood on his tounge. There was no equal ecstasy anymore.
"There's no other option then", he decided with a grin. "I'll make 'em find me more strong people. Stronger this time. Screw returning to that place. I don't care about living or dying. It's not even my body. I can create more like Mike, stronger, smarter, sicker. Ahaha!"
He laughed as bullets streamed past his protecting cover, sometimes piercing the edges of the glowing arms just to stop dead in their center. He could see the small bot now, not even giving off any surprise. It was just one more casualty he was going to create.
He saw it move, backing off from where Mike was landing. He watched as it ducked around he curve of a crator.
He slammed into the ground, rolled, and began lunging across the rocky terrain. He rose above the rim of the crator, readied a strike, and-
"Fuck" Mike managed to say, before being catapulted through the air by Whir's trap.
Mike casually examined the red shard that he held in his hand as his vectors carried him from rock to rock through the minor field of asteroids. It was the same type of gun he had looted from the last round, however, Mike distinctly remembered emptying both clips of the weapons. That, and the wielder had definitely died. He stopped daydreaming as another blow impacted off his vectors that were working as a caccoon. They seperated and waved around in the dark void, attempting to correct his tragectory. His body tilted, and soon he landed an another rock. It was less that a hundred meters until he reached the small target. He was loathing the time it was taking to travel between rocks. Every second away from Whit and Zeke ment that he could lose the chance to kill either. One of them would die, and he would be left with one last person to fight. He wondered about the end as he launched himself once more. Who would be stupid enough, if the circumstances arose, to set a psychopathic mass murderer like Mike back into civilsed reality? Mike could slaughter hundreds, even thousands of ordinary humans. It almost seemed... sad, to no longer feel the thrill of the good fights. No longer would he find someone who really pissed him off, so much so, that he could give it his all. The pain he felt during each injury, the smell of fear, the taste of his own blood on his tounge. There was no equal ecstasy anymore.
"There's no other option then", he decided with a grin. "I'll make 'em find me more strong people. Stronger this time. Screw returning to that place. I don't care about living or dying. It's not even my body. I can create more like Mike, stronger, smarter, sicker. Ahaha!"
He laughed as bullets streamed past his protecting cover, sometimes piercing the edges of the glowing arms just to stop dead in their center. He could see the small bot now, not even giving off any surprise. It was just one more casualty he was going to create.
He saw it move, backing off from where Mike was landing. He watched as it ducked around he curve of a crator.
He slammed into the ground, rolled, and began lunging across the rocky terrain. He rose above the rim of the crator, readied a strike, and-
"Fuck" Mike managed to say, before being catapulted through the air by Whir's trap.