Sharpshooter - Only The Strongest Will Survive
Sharpshooter - Only the Strongest will Survive
Chapter 9
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: Child death, violence, blood, weapons
The storm rages on for a while. I don't keep track of time as I stay curled up in a pathetic little ball in the corner of the cave with my supplies. Thunder crashes outside, leaving a ringing sound in my ears. Rainwater sprays in ever so often, helping me wash off the blood in my hair.
The girl. The hairpin.
I almost gag at the memory of her body, blood spurting out of her carotid artery and into my face. The metallic taste of the liquid in my mouth as I continued to pierce her already lifeless body.
Her family will burn because of me.
The toddler she killed. He could barely walk. Of course he couldn't survive. Better to get killed by her than die of thirst or starvation.
I don't use the rainwater to wash the hairpin. It could corrode the metal and dull it.
Stupid antique hairpins.
I hear the crunching of gravel from outside the cave, slow and inconsistent. I uncurl from the ball and ready the hairpin. Heading to the mouth of the cave, being careful not to slip out, I look down, seeing the silhouette of a tall boy climbing up the base of the mountain, clutching his leg like he's wounded. There's a knife in his hand. It's not Mayday's knife.
If he sees me he's going to try and kill me.
My body tenses up as my hand around the hairpin tightens. A lump rises in my throat, restricting my breath, my throat tightening.
Steeling myself for another kill, I hide just behind the entrance to the cave, waiting for the stranger to enter, my head spinning as I ready myself to kill another person if necessary.
No. It is necessary. They'll do whatever they must to survive. No alliances.
As the figure approaches the mouth of the cave, I tackle it to the ground, kicking it in between the legs. I hear a pained scream and I shut it up by stabbing it in the neck, the blood spilling out as its body goes limp.
I know it's not Mayday. He'd put up more of a fight.
I wipe the blood on my hands on the boy's face. His eyes are still open, the fear in his eyes visible, his mouth open with a silent scream. Dragging the boy by the legs, my muscles straining, I push him out of the cave to roll down the mountain.
He would have killed me had I not killed him first.
I wipe the sweat off my forehead, staining my face with crimson liquid. The clap of thunder that follows the "thump" of the body hitting the ground leaves a ringing sound in my ears.
I can feel my heartbeat in my throat, my eyes darting around, ears perked up in case of the faintest sound of footsteps. The sound of mines going off continues. Every "boom" reminds me of the girl that blew up right next to me. The intestines spilling out of her severed torso, her limbs blown clean off their joints...it sends shivers through my body, a sickening feeling rising up in my gut.
The hairpin, still clutched tightly in my hand, feels like lead. I've taken two lives with this, which leads to around ten more lost. I slump against the wall of the cave as water from the storm sprays inside.
I can't sleep. Someone could kill me.
Taking a small drink from the water packet next to my rations and sniper, I hear the crunch of footsteps on gravel. Hurriedly picking myself up from the cave floor, my cybernetic eye whirls around in its socket whilst my real one darts around frantically. My breathing quickens, my legs ready to carry me while I stab my hairpin into the attacker.
The sound of footsteps gets louder and louder.
Where is it? WHERE IS I T?!
I look out the mouth of the cave, searching for the source of the sound. My cybernetic eye doesn't display any heat signatures nearby. But how could this be? I swear I heard something. It was so L O U D.
It could be above me. Maybe taking shelter. Now's the time to strike, but the storm...I can't make a move now. I'll find the person later.
The sound doesn't stop. It's too loud. It sounds like it's right next to me.
What if it is?
It isn't. If my cybernetic eye can't find anything, then there's no one there.
What if there is?
Shut up!
Time crawls by slowly. The storm stops after what seems like an eternity, but the sound of footsteps doesn't. Climbing out of the cave, I scan the area for any heat signatures. Nothing shows up, no matter where I look.
Then the sound suddenly stops. Are they dead? Resting?
My hand trembles, a tingling feeling in my legs as my breathing starts to get erratic again. I dart back into the cave, hairpin clutched tightly in my hand.
The sound of footsteps comes back.
"Shut up!" I scream as I clutch my head, grabbing fistfuls of my short hair in hopes that it'll stop the sounds.
I curl up against the wall of the cave, the gravel on the floor digging into the fabric of my pants, my grip loosening around the hairpin. It drops to the floor with a soft "thud".
My eyelids start to droop, my head falling against my knees. Then the sound of footsteps fades in again, causing my head to jolt right back up. Then it fades back out, as if taunting me.
Shut up, or I'll kill you.
I toss and turn on the gravel floor, my hands covering my ears, fading in and out of sleep.
I can't sleep. Someone could catch me off-guard and kill me.
Yet, despite my protests, I eventually find myself passed out on the rough floor of the cave.
When I wake up, my hand immediately darts out to find the hairpin, grabbing fistfuls of gravel, searching frantically for the cool metal that somewhat reassures me. When my hand closes around the golden hairpin, the tension in my shoulders melts away and I find myself clutching the hairpin to my chest like it's my lifeline.
It's strangely silent. The sound of footsteps is gone. Maybe they took the chance to run away.
But they could still be there. Waiting for the perfect time to strike. Or worse. They could be dead. That means there's more out there.
It's dark outside. It always is. But when I look out this time, the night is clear and blinking lights illuminate the night sky. The sky isn't black, it's navy, peppered with little white dots. There's a patch that's particularly bright, clusters of stars forming big bright clumps in the sky.
Then my eyes catch a glimpse of green. Floating through the sky like very big, long snakes. They cast the slightest green glow on the ground, showing the silhouettes of dismembered bodies strewn over the floor, my cybernetic eye zooming in to one with the legs severed from the torso, intestines spilling out of the body, the lights casting a sickly green glow on it, outlining every ridge of the exposed tissue, glossy from rainwater. I feel the vomit rise up in my throat at the sight, slapping the side of my head to get the eye back to its original state.
I can't vomit. I can't waste water. Or food. Who knows how long I'll have to survive off of my limited supplies.
I couldn't look at the face. I know I'll only see fear in its eyes, frozen in time. Like the girl who I killed. Heh. I say it so casually now.
The sound of gravel shifting breaks the peaceful silence. When I peek my head to look outside, I see the silhouette of a body sliding down the slope of the base of the mountain. I freeze. Every muscle in my body tenses up. My hand tightens around the hairpin in my hand. I can almost feel the scars on my face hurting at the sight.
It's the animal that attacked me when I went out of the shield. Its blood spills down the slope of the mountain.
That could've been me. If the animal was somewhere above the cave...
My legs tense, ready to run should the monster wake up. Its body is lifeless, but I don't want another cybernetic eye. My breath stills. Everything's silent. Too silent. Someone must've injured or killed the animal. And they must be good with a knife.
I head back inside my cave to take the sniper. I try to lift it so that it won't make a sound on the gravel, but my heavy footsteps do that anyways.
My cybernetic eye scans up the mountain. The starlight makes it a little easier to see. My shoulders strain as I hug the sniper close, it seems to be the easiest way to carry it. Before I can see any heat signatures, I hear muttered curses and coughs. Gravel slides down the slope as I follow the sound to an area with a few rocks clustered together. Dark blood spills down the slope, coating the gravel. Holding my sniper up by the front like an axe, I turn the corner only to find a teenage boy, around my age, lying on his back, blood spilling out of a slash wound in his chest, his hand clutched tightly around a bloodstained knife.
My first instincts are to save him. To press my hands on the wound to stop the bleeding. But my first instincts could get me killed. He won't make it anyways. There's no medical attention for these kinds of injuries. Besides, from past experiences, everyone wants to kill me.
The boy's eyes widen. As a silent threat or plead for mercy, I don't know. But I see the subtle shift in his legs, the way his hand clenches around the knife, and I swing the sniper, the rear end crashing into his face, sending blood splattering into mine.
I don't care. I keep swinging the sniper into his face, again and again, until his hand goes limp around the knife. I then flip him over onto his back, before swinging the sniper at the back of his head.
Blood pools around my boots. I press two fingers to the side of his neck, and I'm very relieved to feel no pulse. I leave his body there, before carefully making my way back down the slope. Everything's silent again, besides the occasional sound of a mine going off a distance away.
He wouldn't have made it. I was giving him mercy.
But my intention wasn't to give him mercy. I was just scared. You can never be too careful. Everyone wants to kill you. Even stupid injured teenage boys who just killed an animal.
Thankfully, the animal's body is still in its original position, lifeless right outside my cave. Just for good measure, I push my hairpin into its neck, not daring to watch as blood spurts out and flows down the mountain.
I head back into my cave, throwing my sniper down to the ground, its rear grip stained with blood. An enemy's blood. I close my eyes for a moment, hoping to find some peace, but all I see is the slash wounds across the boy's chest and the blood caked on his face.
I look out at the stars illuminating the navy blue sky, the green lights that exposed the bodies of the dead. It's beautiful. But it's a constant reminder that people are dying out here. People are getting killed.
And whose fault is that?
The Mars Council's. It's not mine. It's not mine. IT'S NOT MINE.
I had no choice. Everyone here wants to kill me.
Under different circumstances, the stars, the lights...they would bring me comfort. But not now. Here...in Control...there is no peace. There is no comfort.
More Posts from Tbnrpotato and Others
THEY DIDNT
THEY CANT JUST
THEY CANT JUST CASUALLY BLOW UP THE MARAUDER
U CANT JUST DO THAT
AND CROSSHAIR CONCERNED DAD AND SAYING OMEGA’S NAME
AND OMEGA TRUSTING CROSSHAIR TO TRACK THE SHIP BUT HE COULDNT 😭😭😭
AND THE ASSASSIN SAYING “DOMICILE” CONFIRMS ITS TECH
TODAYS EPISODES HAVE DESTROYED MY SANITY
Into the Dark
Chapter 1: Frontlines
(unfinished story btw i abandoned it a while ago)
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: Violence, war, death
I see the enemy mechs take formation in front of me. Everything is crystal clear from my cockpit, and I can feel the adrenaline rush. That's what I love about this war.
In my own mech, I charge towards the formation, breaking through them as I slice at two with my double swords. I activate my thrusters to stop mid-air, turning around and raising the shield that was on my back a few moments ago to block the bullets that the enemy mechs just fired at me.
And now it's time for me to bring my own guns out. The laser gatling guns come out from under my mech's arms, and I command them to fire. The lasers pierce another one of the cockpits of the mechs, and it falls limp onto the battle raging far below.
Suddenly, one of the mechs rams into me from behind, the alarms in my mech blare as I spin in the air. I try to shake the mech off, but it's grip on me is too strong. We're spiralling to the ground, further and further away from the Rip where more mechs are coming.
I see the ground below. Blaster shots everywhere, the only difference between ours and the enemies' is the colour. I max out my thrusters, getting myself back upright and peeling the mech off me and flying upwards. The enemy mech follows.
We're almost going at the same speed, ascending rapidly. I get my sword out, abruptly stopping. The enemy mech following me crashes into me again, but this time I have the advantage and stab it in the cockpit. The mech's lights go out, and its body goes limp, falling back down.
I look up at the bunch of mechs coming through, and smirk. More victims for me.
Before they can get into formation, I charge at one of them, slicing it in half before it can react, activating my gatling guns and firing at the enemy mechs before they can fire at me.
Some of the enemy mechs remain unmoving. I can almost sense the fear in them. They've heard about me before. Stories about how I defeated entire legions of enemy mechs. Stories about the Demon of The Other Realm.
I dip down as they start firing at me, and I block some of the enemy fire with my shield. It's about to break. It hasn't handled this much fire in a while. My mech shows me the one that's firing the most, and I fly, shield still up, into the enemy mech, crushing its thrusters with one arm, hurling it down onto the battlefield.
No more mechs are coming through the Rip, and I only have about 10 more to go. I ascend further up really near the Rip, and use the cover of the clouds to hide, activating my guns again and shooting down below. My mech shows me the targets, and all I need to do is fire.
And soon enough, only one mech remains. I want to take this one out in the coolest way possible. The pilot should feel honoured.
I go out of the cloud cover, seeing the final mech. I fly above it as it fires at me, flying straight downwards as I pass by it.
It's too late by the time it turns around, its thrusters are already destroyed from my shots. And it falls.
I grab it by the torso and speed downwards. I can't sense the fear in the pilot of this mech, only the feeling you get when you know you're about to die and you've accepted it.
I hear a timer ticking. I already know it's a bomb. I've heard too many of them. And suddenly, the mech grips onto me as we get closer to the ground, and it doesn't wanna let go.
I wrench one of my arms out from its grip, and get my shield. I activate my thrusters as we hit the ground, slowing our landing.
The next thing I see is flames as I raise my shield. The force knocks me backwards, and I flip before landing on my feet, driving my sword into the ground to slow myself to a stop.
I'm in the middle of a battlefield now. Enemy troops try to penetrate my armour with their blasters, firing at my cockpit.
I gotta get out of here fast. And anyways, I think the boys down below are having fun.
I activate my thrusters again and fly back to base.
The fights are getting easier and easier. They're running out of mechs and pilots. They're focusing more on the ground combat.
I remember my days on the ground as I step out of my cockpit and I flex my metal arm.
Flashback
The sounds of blaster fire echo through the battlefield as I take cover. A grenade lands right next to me and my group. I jump out just in time as the grenade explodes. The others aren't so lucky.
I see soldiers being struck down by fireballs, burning at the torso or the head. I feel the ground shaking, and suddenly I get launched into the air by an unknown force, as if the earth itself was trying to kill me.
I land on my back, pain shooting up my torso and I resist the urge to scream. Show no weakness. My vision is blurry.
The tide turns, and not in our favour. The fire strikes down so many soldiers. I inch back, dropping my blaster. I can't stand.
I find some cover in one of the wrecked enemy mechs. I curl up into a ball as the sounds of blaster fire grow louder.
Soon, it all stops. I crawl out from the wreckage, and bodies are strewn all over the ground. I try to stand up, but my legs feel like jelly, and I fall to the ground again. I still can't see clearly.
I see a figure standing over me, holding a blaster and a lightsaber clipped to its belt. I can see that its hair is black, just reaching its shoulders, and in its hand is a ball with a red light blinking.
I recognize the sound of the beeping of the ball in its hands. It's a grenade. And the figure drops it before running away.
I crawl away as fast as I can, but it's not fast enough. The beeping sounds get to the part where it's so fast that it almost flatlines.
I block my head with one of my arms as it explodes.
Flashback ends
Blown clean off my shoulder. I move my fingers of my metal arm around, hearing the clink of metal against metal.
That was what drove me to fight. But not as a ground soldier anymore. I was going to be a part of the elites, having the privilege of flying in a mech. And I did get it.
I have nightmares of the explosion sometimes, when I still had a flesh-and-blood arm. But I brush it off quickly. Show no weakness.
I walk over to the commander's office to report in.
"When's the next battle," I ask, slumping onto the chair, one leg on the armrest.
"Already? No rest for the Demon of The Other Realm," he smirks. I hate that title. They found me in the Rip. They knew I wasn't from their realm, and I did too. That title is only a reminder of it.
"Yes commander. No rest for the Demon of The Other Realm."
Into The Dark is an original story that I came up with and is currently ongoing
its a some dystopian stuff that I abandoned lol
i have mixed feelings about the finale tmr
im scared that someone in the batch will die
im excited cos FREE ZILLY
im sad cos the bad batch got me out of a depresso time in my life and now its ending
im happy cos its tbb
im not ready for tmr
Into the Dark
Chapter 3: Imprisoned
Word count: 872
Warnings: none! (for once)
When I open my eyes, everything's dark. I can't see anything. I'm starting to think I'm still out cold, but when I slap my face with my palm, I can feel it, so I'm probably awake.
Probably.
My metal arm is working now, I can feel my fingers moving when I flex them. Even though I can't see anything around me, I can sense that I'm in a room. I can just make out the faint outline of bars in front of me. This is a prison cell. And I'm the prisoner.
I'm constantly hearing whispering, it almost feels like it's coming from the walls around me.
"CAN YOU SHUT UP?!" I shout, and the voices go silent for a moment, before I hear the whispering start again.
I can see black lines running up my body. They weren't there before. I instantly start scratching at them, trying to get them off of me. They refuse. I keep scratching, my skin is flaking now, and I'm causing more harm to myself than the black lines on me.
Eventually I stop, knowing that the black lines won't go away. I can literally hear them telling me that it's no use.
They feel weird on me. It's as if I've had them all my life, but they're only deciding to come out now. I can feel a tingling sensation on my skin, and I'm blaming the black lines for it.
My weapons are gone. Nothing to blast my way out of here with. I stand up and walk towards the bars, looking at the area outside my cell. There are many other cells, but they're all empty. I'm the only prisoner here, and guards are stationed outside my cell.
I've broken out of prison before, but that was when I could actually see the stuff around me. I can't see 10 meters ahead of me.
I think been in too much war. I literally haven't even asked what is happening, like any normal human would.
What is happening?
I put my hands against the bars of my cell and try to look out further. I suddenly feel a strong force on my arms, and when I look down, I see the darkness from the bars spreading out to reach the black lines on my arms, and they connect, and they're pulling me in. I try to pull my hands away, but the darkness is too strong. It won't let me go.
Suddenly, a blade extends into my cell and cuts me free. I only get to catch a quick glimpse of the blade before it retracts again. It's black and has orange highlights on it which are barely visible.
"Okay, lesson learned, don't touch the bars," I say to myself.
I lean against the wall of my cell, sitting down. I recognized this as one of the cells from the Other Realm. I got captured here before, but I escaped with ease. This was one of the less secure prisons in the Other Realm, where they used to put the captured rookie mech pilots.
I press a hand to my forehead. My head hurts from all the voices that I'm hearing in my head.
I look up to the bars.
What are these things made out of?
I think they're the same stuff as the black lines on my skin, based on how they connected with each other just now.
Some voices in my head are now louder than others. Some even project images into my head. One of the prison that I'm in, another of what the world has just become, and...me? In my cell? I look around, scanning my cell for any security cameras. There's none. How am I supposed to escape if these guys in my head can see everything that I'm doing? Maybe they can't and they're just trying to scare me from trying to escape.
"Don't bother trying to escape. We're watching you," one of the voices says.
They can read my fucking thoughts now?
"Language," one of them says.
Shut up.
"No."
I swear if you don't shut the fuck up right know I'm gonna cut my own head off.
"With what? You have no weapons."
Am I seriously having a conversation with myself right now?
"Not with yourself. With us."
Who's us?
No reply.
HEY ANSWER MY QUESTION BRO.
No reply either.
I look down at my body. Ever since I arrived here my injuries from the past battle haven't been visible.
I press a hand to where the cut on my face was in the previous battle. I can only feel black lines covering it-
WAIT WHAT?!?!!?!?
I remove my hand from my face and glance down at my hand, there's nothing. There's a tingling sensation on the area where the cut is. After a while, I decide to check the wound again.
I only feel skin and a few black lines.
Did those things just heal me?
"Yes, they did. Now you better get comfortable, because you're gonna be here for a long time."
I smirk.
You don't know me. I can bet that by morning, I'll be outta here and on my way back to base.
ITS SO CUTE AAAA
Ayo new bad batch reaction image just dropped
Aris: A Skywalker Story hit 1k reads yesterday :)
THE WAY HE SAYS HER NAME HES SO WORRIED FOR HER
"this is our chance."
i genuinely cried at the ending and i dont know why
just seeing hunter aka my father figure growing old and omega leaving just
i dont wanna say goodbye
tbb got me through my parents divorce and through my suicidal thoughts
they were better friends to me than any of my real ones
they helped me transition to secondary school
they helped me find new friends
they inspired me to get my life back together
they inspired me to write stories and ive gotten into a writing program in sch because of it
they were the dads i never had
and i grew up with omega
to see the series end, to not see them again in new official content, its just breaking me
all i want is friends like them and to have a family like omega
thats all i want
