G
Guest
Guest
Guess what? I wrote a fanfic. Nothing deep or meaningful, just a meaningless story. The main character is Caleb, an unarmed combat specialist who I hope to use in a larger story someday. Please comment/critize.
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A thick clump of weeds crunched dryly underfoot as Caleb pushed his way through a small line of spindly trees and seared undergrowth. To his left, a relatively small mountain range rose and continued for miles ahead. He sighed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, wishing the mountains had been on his right, and shielded him from the scorching sun which glared down on him relentlessly.
He had come to a... a clearing. Well, even though there was only flat ground all the way to the horizon, but a sparse ring of arid trees partly surrounded the area, providing a least a shred of shade. He decided to stop. Taking the battered canteen from his belt, he took a drink and carefully screwed the lid back on. Barely half full. If he didn’t find civilisation soon, death would come looking for him.
Spotting a large rock, he began towards it and-
a branch snapped. Caleb froze. The branch made another sound as the foot which crushed it was lifted. Caleb spun around to see a huge man in leather charging towards him with a spear raised high above his head. Behind him, two other figures came into view. As the screaming man came within two metres of Caleb, he stepped forward, and faster than the man could have anticipated, grabbed the spear with his left hand, and snapped an upward palm blow to the man’s nose with his right. His head snapped back as his feet flew upwards and fell on his back with a loud thud. But as the heavy aggressor fell, Caleb maintained his grip on the spear, and as the second attacker was bringing his pistol to bear on Caleb, he flicked the spear into his right hand and hurled it with great force. It spun smoothly as it soared through the air and struck the man in the solar plexus, driving its way into his abdomen.
All this had happened in a matter of seconds, and as the second man stumbled backwards to the ground, screaming in agony and clutching the projectile which jutted from his mid section, the third, and last, assailant stalked cautiously towards Caleb. The dirty knife in his hand glinted menacingly in the sun as the two opponents circled each other momentarily before the knife-wielding aggressor lunged at Caleb and swung the knife in a downward arc towards his throat. Twisting slightly and leaning sidewards Caleb managed to avoid the blade which then soared harmlessly down beside him. With blinding reflexes, Caleb grabbed the his arm at the wrist and struck with his other hand, snapping the arm at the elbow. The unfortunate criminal let out a piercing howl of agony and fell to his knees, clutching his ruined arm in pain. Stepping back, Caleb followed through with a powerful boot to the head. He heard a loud WHUMP, and the man was flung backwards and lay twisted on the ground, blood seeping from his face. He didn’t look like he was going to get up anytime soon, either.
Caleb stood silently, looking around him at the bodies of the three men who had attacked him. Highwaymen. Roving gangs of bandits who preyed on lone travellers and lived off the loot which they scavenged from the corpses of their victims. He was lucky that he was only ambushed by three, for some travelled in gangs of five or more. Caleb looked over to where the second brigand still writhed on the ground, attempting to remove the spear from his body. Calmly walking over to where he lay, Caleb grasped the spear with both hands and drove it through the raiders torso, probably slicing his spinal cord. Blood sprayed from the dying man’s mouth and his legs kicked wildly for several seconds before he finaly fell still. Caleb placed his foot on the dead man’s chest and ripped the spear from his still-warm corpse, splattering blood in all directions.
Setting the spear aside, he went over to where the guy had dropped his pistol. A Beretta M-9 in very good condition with half a clip. Further search of the man’s corpse yielded several bullets for the gun, a few coins and a plastic bottle of dirty water. Nearly empty, but water nonetheless. Caleb walked to the first man’s body. The blow to his nose had probably splintered the bone and pierced his brain. On his corpse Caleb found a few dollars, a silver cigarette lighter, and a few strips of dried meat. The last bandit’s body offered the knife he was carrying, and a couple of old shotgun shells.
Scavenge to live. Fight to survive. Caleb thought grimly as he looked back on the corpses.
He sighed deeply as he turned and continued towards the barren horizon.
-Smaug
"I am become death. The destroyer of worlds."
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A thick clump of weeds crunched dryly underfoot as Caleb pushed his way through a small line of spindly trees and seared undergrowth. To his left, a relatively small mountain range rose and continued for miles ahead. He sighed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, wishing the mountains had been on his right, and shielded him from the scorching sun which glared down on him relentlessly.
He had come to a... a clearing. Well, even though there was only flat ground all the way to the horizon, but a sparse ring of arid trees partly surrounded the area, providing a least a shred of shade. He decided to stop. Taking the battered canteen from his belt, he took a drink and carefully screwed the lid back on. Barely half full. If he didn’t find civilisation soon, death would come looking for him.
Spotting a large rock, he began towards it and-
a branch snapped. Caleb froze. The branch made another sound as the foot which crushed it was lifted. Caleb spun around to see a huge man in leather charging towards him with a spear raised high above his head. Behind him, two other figures came into view. As the screaming man came within two metres of Caleb, he stepped forward, and faster than the man could have anticipated, grabbed the spear with his left hand, and snapped an upward palm blow to the man’s nose with his right. His head snapped back as his feet flew upwards and fell on his back with a loud thud. But as the heavy aggressor fell, Caleb maintained his grip on the spear, and as the second attacker was bringing his pistol to bear on Caleb, he flicked the spear into his right hand and hurled it with great force. It spun smoothly as it soared through the air and struck the man in the solar plexus, driving its way into his abdomen.
All this had happened in a matter of seconds, and as the second man stumbled backwards to the ground, screaming in agony and clutching the projectile which jutted from his mid section, the third, and last, assailant stalked cautiously towards Caleb. The dirty knife in his hand glinted menacingly in the sun as the two opponents circled each other momentarily before the knife-wielding aggressor lunged at Caleb and swung the knife in a downward arc towards his throat. Twisting slightly and leaning sidewards Caleb managed to avoid the blade which then soared harmlessly down beside him. With blinding reflexes, Caleb grabbed the his arm at the wrist and struck with his other hand, snapping the arm at the elbow. The unfortunate criminal let out a piercing howl of agony and fell to his knees, clutching his ruined arm in pain. Stepping back, Caleb followed through with a powerful boot to the head. He heard a loud WHUMP, and the man was flung backwards and lay twisted on the ground, blood seeping from his face. He didn’t look like he was going to get up anytime soon, either.
Caleb stood silently, looking around him at the bodies of the three men who had attacked him. Highwaymen. Roving gangs of bandits who preyed on lone travellers and lived off the loot which they scavenged from the corpses of their victims. He was lucky that he was only ambushed by three, for some travelled in gangs of five or more. Caleb looked over to where the second brigand still writhed on the ground, attempting to remove the spear from his body. Calmly walking over to where he lay, Caleb grasped the spear with both hands and drove it through the raiders torso, probably slicing his spinal cord. Blood sprayed from the dying man’s mouth and his legs kicked wildly for several seconds before he finaly fell still. Caleb placed his foot on the dead man’s chest and ripped the spear from his still-warm corpse, splattering blood in all directions.
Setting the spear aside, he went over to where the guy had dropped his pistol. A Beretta M-9 in very good condition with half a clip. Further search of the man’s corpse yielded several bullets for the gun, a few coins and a plastic bottle of dirty water. Nearly empty, but water nonetheless. Caleb walked to the first man’s body. The blow to his nose had probably splintered the bone and pierced his brain. On his corpse Caleb found a few dollars, a silver cigarette lighter, and a few strips of dried meat. The last bandit’s body offered the knife he was carrying, and a couple of old shotgun shells.
Scavenge to live. Fight to survive. Caleb thought grimly as he looked back on the corpses.
He sighed deeply as he turned and continued towards the barren horizon.
-Smaug
"I am become death. The destroyer of worlds."
