The Falling

Bang! Bang!

My tired knees buckle and slam together as I roll down the steep, narrow ramp like thunder as clumsily as a frail old woman. Sweat streams down my hot forehead in trickles of sticky, bitter sweet water. The droplets gather at the beginning of my hairline like an army on the border of enemy territory.

This maze of blackened, battered walls is illuminated by the soft multi-coloured glow of the futuristic weaponry we’ve been armed with. It’s been barely twenty minutes since I’ve been thrown into battle like a rabbit into the lion’s den. I’ve managed to trigger, kick and claw my way through like a rabid dog roaming the sober streets. I’m the last of the survivors.

I lick my lips in anticipation like a raindeer high on candy canes. My adrenaline runs wild like a boar streaking through the forest. The outline of a tall male with dark hair, dark eyes and tanned skin engenders itself to my gaze. I aim, the slim barrel of the black gun aligns with my focused eye.

Bang!