With the knife by my side, I felt nearly unstoppable. The first time I used it, I had half-spun the knife at a radroach, which killed the creature. I will NEVER make that mistake again. The knife was lodged in the roach, I pulled it out and nearly puked because of how disgusting the knife had looked. Just a horrible sight. Luckily, we washed it quickly, and I decided to aim at targets instead of creatures. Soon after my thirteenth birth-day, my dad had found an old air-soft pistol and fixed it for me to use. You can imagine how I felt when I actually shot a radroach and hadn't been disgusted by radroach guts. My dad had even found a few more things like cracked baseball bats and even a daisy bb gun, but couldn't find the parts to fix them, but eventually did. At one point or another, I was pretty sure I had about five different weapons. The knife, the air-soft gun, the daisy bb gun, a paintball gun, and an actual pistol with no bullets, of course. After that I had gotten a proto-type thermal energy gun. It charged from light and caused lots of damage. I accidentally broke three of my targets before I even realizing they were breaking.
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To much is more than enough
Science FictionIn the New Republic, there was an outcast, someone hardly anyone had known. His name, Utalin Shabotlic. He was never one to start conflict, or even talk for that matter. It's because of what he did. What he is going to do.
