a new thought, tell me whether to leave it or make up a new part.


Jungle Struck, Anxiety and Disappearance

"You can be stabbed through the gut with one of those creatures claws too, it'd be no different!" Greg was in an outrage now, and no amount of psychology would get him out of this. He popped a new clip into his gun and put it up to Brandons head in one swift movement. He yelled, "We move, or i shoot him dead!"

At that exact moment a scream tore through the air and arrows wizzed by the dazed soldiers frame. One struck and Greg keeled over and began to moan. He ripped the arrow from his breast and broke it in half. He raised his rifle and tugged a new clip from his pocket. He slapped it into his Assault Rifle with chilling ease and tore the surrounding foilage into nothing more then a green carpet. Again the scream let out but this time, no arrows followed it. This time, the scream sounded as if deep sorrow rested at it's core. A nude man began to get up out of the destroyed foilage but Greg put him out of his misery with a trio of bullets. Malcolm screamed at him, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! THESE WERE NATIVES THE COULD HAVE HELPED US!!!" Greg said nothing to this, but replied with a cold and almost mechanical glare. Malcolm new by the look into those cold, deep, chilling blue eyes that he could no longer control Greg and that he had to let go. With a quick leap Greg and his rifle disappeared and the two remaining members of the team were left stunned.

continued at a later date




Short story by Painful Profits
Read 874 times
Written on 2006-06-02 at 19:25

Tags Anxiety  Pain  Fights 

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liz munro The PoetBay support member heart!
ohhhhhh goosebumps.

next part please.

liz
2006-06-05