Fear For the Worse
It was past dusk and our shadows are more than obscure. Too bad it's freezing a lot worse than any other place in Pandora. Then again, it is called the Tundra Express. But nice was definitely the word for this quiet night right now, unless something uncanny occurs... like usual. "Bored….. Really bored… So bored…. Extremely bored….. Super bored…... Hella. Fucking. Bored.! AAHhh! Hahahah, let's rampage ALREADY!", the damn superior meat lover blabbers on and on and on, helping himself to self-inflictions, but at least he knows better than to go any further than that. A sigh couldn't be more appropriate. Remember what you get you idiot. As long as there's no non-innocent person around that deserves a buzz saw to the skull, you stay clear from killing anyone else.
"RWAR! Shut it! Shut it! SHUT IT!" Knowing no better, he hits "us" to the skull repeatedly with the blunt edge of the buzz axe. Good to know our wander's solo; the company would've been a painful experience. "We should've bathe that lady with her blood and join her but no soap!" Heh, glad it was too late for that idiot to not do so. But man, she was something. Capable of obliterating my very being, she acknowledged my existence. Maya was the very first person to ever give me a chance at showing how I could still be somewhat human. We could've been with her, hoping this can solve misunderstandings and possibly make friends, yet 'Krieg' sought an opportunity on fishing out the rats. God, he has such a short attention span. Afterwards I never saw her again.
Just when I was about express my pretty queer and poetic admiration of the tolerant Siren, an active light caped with smoke peep itself over the blue hue of the horizon. Shit. Hey, don't you dare think ab-! God damn it. I was too slow for the usher of carnage. He's too filled with glee that he sprints at an unbelievable velocity, roaring on his way to his comfort zone. Great, just when I was finally able to persuade the son of a bitch to shower.
I can't help but sigh for a second time. All I could hear is my alternate personality guffawing at the people unlucky enough to face this suicidal warrior. I almost feel glad I'm not hearing their screams for mercy over the maniac cry of glory. "YOU SCREAM, I SCREAM, WE ALL SCREAM 'NIPPLE SALADS!'" Well, almost. Hmm. Now that I think of it, this lair seems very odd. Why are there stuffed animals lying around and strapped with decorations? Ignoring the commotion, I notice that the animals having blinking lights. It kind of looks like a…. Alright, you have enough fun. Time to get the hell out of here. Of course, my pleas pass right through the psychopath's mind.
There's one bandit left and he's out of ammo. The fear on his face is apparent. He knows he can't escape. To think I was sold out by my members of thieves to a bunch of Hyperion pricks for a cheap exchange. He finished the unfortunate man by tearing him limb from limb with our mutated arm, taking in the climax of his high. Ugh, I taste the blood sliding up and down in my throat thanks to 'Krieg' that keeps on laughing about all his sins. And then the stuffed animals release a long lasting beep.
Ya know, I just found something funny. Pandora's a pretty odd planet, 'cause no matter how high one falls from the sky you never end up hurt, let alone killed. And we were flying quite above any expectations. We even pass all the birds in the atmosphere. Then after so long, we finally crashed into a pile of lofty snow. My eyelids can't take the relentless abuse of being open, so I have the moment to rest and best hope in peace. What a horrible night to sleep in the god damn cold.