Despair

Despair | Chapter 12

Time seemed to slow down as the bullets flew, and bright pain exploded in my arm.

I turned the rifle toward them, trying my best to pull the trigger with my good arm, sending few shells though the air, knocking some zombies down.

They groaned tiredly, their bodies made thump noises as they fell to the ground, the fallen falling once again. 

Bullets flew back, grazing my shirt. The shells kept being launched, finding a mark or missing.

I pushed a nearby table onto its side, using it as a shield.

Rat, tat, tat.

The holes appearing on the shield slowly went deeper, boring through the makeshift shield in seconds.

Wow, shield. You've let me down. Where's my freakin' refund?

I pushed the gun over my shoulder, pushing the trigger over and over again, unleashing a wave of deadly shells.

All I could hear was the screams of the guards, or every once in awhile was a thunk of the bodies hitting the floor. After a while, the other sounds were gone, only my gun firing at air repeatedly to no avail.

I stood up, resting the gun on my shoulder. The pain from my other arm came rushing in.

I glanced at the mess, wincing at the red blood spewed all over the floor.

Click, click, click.

Quickly, my head snapped up. I looked up in surprise to see a guard; Elizabeth still standing at the entrance, pointing a gun that had ran out of ammo at me.

We had a quick staring contest.

Then she quickly dropped the gun, turning around. In seconds she was gone.

I quickly went to the trapdoor, opening it. The hole went down and down, one side filled with ladders, the other lined with various warnings.

Do not venture; warning.

You have been thus warned.

Deadly, toxic gas.

I dropped the gun which saved my life, and climbed down, closing the trapdoor after me. Then, trying to ignore the pain, I breathed in one last breath of fresh air and climbed into pure, dark darkness.