While carving a mould to fill and make a helmet, I was interrupted by an alarm that was only in the hangar and indicative of the large door opening so a plane can take off. I saw my plane, the only one still somewhat intact moving by. Sprinting over at speeds not possible by a normal person, let alone someone running on a blade. When I caught up to the plane, the propeller was spinning, all my shit had been ripped off and there was barely any fuel left, as I had been using the tank as a storage tank. Thinking quickly, I started punching the wing that was not being used as a canopy with my blade arm. Within seconds, I was able to punch off the wing somehow, and I leapt off to break the engine that was exposed by my melting of metal. I then cut out the door and tore it off, allowing me into the cockpit to stop the plane. "Stop the fucking plane now!" I shouted before seeing that no one was in the pilot's seat. Shocked, I turned on the brakes and ran out to stop the plane by hand. This was a small troop transport, designed for twenty people tops. I dug in, catching the plane's front and slowing it to a halt. I would have to push it back later, but for now I had to push it back into the hangar. switching it to neutral, I began pushing it back, shocking even myself when I didn't even break a sweat. Thankfully no one could see me and question me as to how, but I could. "what is going on?" I asked the hangar, currently devoid of life save for me. when I pushed the now more broken plane back to my spot and dragged the wing back with some effort, I looked into the mirror-like surface of the polished wing, only to see that my eye was glowing like a Sapphire with a flashlight behind it.
YOU ARE READING
heartfire: ash's story
مغامرةas a zombie outbreak ravages humanity to a point of no return, a lone wolf blade smith attempts to survive hoards of zombies and terrible puns (I have not read the original, please do point out any plot holes.)
