ch 7 ( disclaimer see first chapter) I hope you like the story. Now you, dear reader, will see why this story is M rated.
The device started to hum and shieverd a bit. It almost fell from the place between the drivers and passengers seat. They silently sat on the backseats and kept waiting for the picture.
Small lights were flashing repeatedly on the small cd-player's side. So it had to work. After a moment a loading bar appeared. It said: Loading. The bar started at zero, only to be filled to 100 in two seconds. Nothing happened.
Bonnie mocked :"Maybe we should-"
"PLOP" a sound came. Then another: "Tschtht" A small picture of a man fiddling at something behind the screen plopped up. He stepped away and blocked the view on everything behind himself no more.
It was the inside of a big car. Or truck. The only light was dimmed and came out of a small red lamp at the roof. A few men were sitting in benches at both sides of the vehicle. They carried weapons. At the most far end of the vehicle was a double-door. So appearently this was a small truck, van or an-
"What a car is that? I never saw it before." The brunette asked her friend. She answered: "Dunno, maybe its a SWAT-van."
The entire picture shifted upwards and down. From the opposite direction of the car came a shout "Yehaaa biatch I hope my wheels are tasty! HAHAhahaha!" "Shut up Durbain! Just make sure we won't kiss a tree!" The other voice was going to reply but the camera-man shouted: "Silence!Both of you!" Everyone fell quiet.
The two girls looked at the persons inside the small and darkened room. Nearest to the hatch sat someone longgrown and thin. He had a somewhat bulky weapon (they didn't know that it was a M249 SAW machinegun) and wore a green vest and short pants in the same colour. Beside him sat a man who looked to be in his late thirtys. A long white t-shirt that said "Night of the living dead- Metallorama 2006" in bloodred latters and a baggy bluejeans clad his body. He looked like the ordinary street-guy except for the two pistols that boiled out the pants of his jeans and a long and scoped rifle in his hands. Opposite to these two four men in dark-blue clothing had their places. Both of the girls recognised these as SWAT police officers. Two had a weapon that was familiar : A small and handy machinepistol that was often held by policemen who were seen in riots that happened all over the world. Number four had a rather odd looking gun, featuring a round barrel. He took it up and looked it all over. Number three held what every policecar had as backup for harsh moments: A shotgun. Seat number 5 was empty. Number 6 had another mp-("Thats the word this guy I made run off used.") carrying policeofficer. But this one wore ordinary black police-clothes and not the combat-dress. Sadness and shock were written on his face. Nearest to the driver's door sat-
"Hey that's him!" Both thought, but none spoke. Tara pressed the stop-button and asked: "Did you see that too?"
"Yes and I have a bad feeling about this...just...doesn't it seem a bit weird that he is on a video with gunwielding people? But alone now?"
"Yeah that's strange. Maybe he left? Maybe because someone hasn't been nice to him ? (she shot bonnie a muchsaying look) Anyway (she shrugged her shoulders) We'll know soon."
"Hmmm right. I really wanna know about him."
"Aha- I see!" she giggled.
Bonnie looked at her friend and replied: "Just curious!"
Tara pressed the play-switch again and watched. The opposite row of people was filled with three normal policemen that had pistols in their hands and two other men.
These had green camouflage-clothes and helmets. Afro-american skin-colour and small glasses marked the first. He clutched a rifle that they knew from war movies they had to see in history classes because of barkin's will. In these movies the guys who had it always complained about that they had to clean it every few hours and that it was always "jammed". Barkin told them: "I always had an AK in the jungle. That thing didn't care about mud in the barrel."
Number two looked a bit sad and down to the ground, deep in thought. His skin was white and a bit pale. Nervous looks to every side from time to time showed that he wasn't familiar with whatever was going on. Before the camera stood the man that was either someone important or the only dude who managed to get the camera running.
"Hmm that must be their leader." Bonnie stated.
By lifting his body to the right a person standing in the middle of the floor could be seen. It wore a police-uniform. But its upper chest was the highest thing too see because the man was looking out of a badly made hole in the roof.
Tara: "Uhhh I bet this thing wasn't there when that thing rolled out of the factory!"
"Yeah just look at how badly it's made!" Both giggled and looked at the young man they both knew.
"He looks...different." Tara started, bonnie went on: "Yeah. Outright frightened. But he's got the same clothing. Hey look I think his gun is different from the one he has now." It was the same as the one many of the swat-officers had.
"So.." The man in front of the camera spoke:" My name is Lt.-"
"Chief! Something hit the recon!"
"Hey thats the guy's voice." Tara thought at this. The cameraman turned halfway around and spoke: "No need for paranoia. Now sit do-"
The young man stood up and raised his gun at the person leaning out of the hole. "Incoming!"
Just as the "chief" wanted to shout the roof-looker got pulled out of the car's inside and out of view. Something thin and black hit one of the men sitting nearest to the roofhole in the chest. Then a small black shape entered the van through the hole and another man shouted in pain as something hit his face. Max ( that was his name they remembered) Started and kept shooting at the hole and the black shape.Which were TWO black shapes now. One was pressing a man against the right wall and clutched itself at his midsection. The poor person screamed so loud and at a such high pitch that the speakers were shaking from the enormou bass. Everyone who was still alive took their guns up and started shooting.
One poor fellow got his arm among the weapon bit off from the third black shape. The shapes were fast and moved in a blur that made it impossible to see the exact looks of them. Everyone who had been near the hole was dead or screaming. And the others, except for the guy everyone called paranoid, sat idly and shot single yellow flames. Tara thought she could make out the form of one of the shapes "heads" but failed. Mainly because the man who spoke into the camera flew into it, making the video-recording device fall down to the left side. But the recording still continued, even if there were only sounds and not a picture anymore. Well, there was a picture but it only showed a dark-blue clad arm whose cloth was slowly becoming darker in colour. Because it soaked up the blood that was coming from a place the view couldn't show. The sounds of gunfire and two more screams came. Also three noises that made the girls shiver and almost throw up: Loud shreeking that could make anyones ears explode.
Then utter silence. Bitter silence. Until max's voice spoke: "Give me the bandage." Another voice :" He won't make it."
"No matter we have to try!"
"Trying won't get you success! There is no second prize in life!"
"I don't need a first prize. I never needed that. I always tried to win. And that's what cou-"
"You never won."
"So what? I'm a member of the red cross and it is our highest task to protect life in all its human forms from harm and help it through any danger!"
"Ahhh srew you!"
A third voice suddenly rose from the darkness: "Sho-(caugh) shoot me. I don't want to become one of - of- (an even louder caugh came. In Bonnies and tara's mind a picture of a man coughing up blood came up.) them."
"No dude you can make it out! I only gotta stop that blee-"
"You know it won't work. Im bleeding my lungs full. You DO know what that means."
"Yes I do."
"Then you know the consequences. Please keep me from that."
Man number two interrupted: "Hey ! Youre not gonna... you know..."
Voice three: "He will put me out of my misery. Yes he will shoot me."
"Shut up and get the camera standing! Maybe THIS will convince the morons who still refuse to believe!"
"But..." Suddenly the roles had changed.
"Do it. Now."
"Okay. (voilently the picture moved back to its former stand-point.) Here you go." Voice number two was insecure now.
What they saw was a picture of ultimate horror. The guy with the "living-dead"-t shirt stood before the camera. His shirt was now as blood-red as the letters. The left wall was riddled from bulletholes. The entire car was scrap. The walls were covered in blood. On the right a man was empaled by a strange hairy leg that dripped a green liquid at the place where it had been shot through. His legs didn't touch the ground. Instead small bloodleaking limbs hung from the hardly as a human body recognisable thing. The rest of the legs (they were clearly cut into) stood still at the place where they had been when the man was sitting peacefully. Just like nothing had happened.Beside him the rest of a human upper-body that was cut from the left teigh to the right armpit in a straight line. The arm-stump that was still there had been cut off just in the same angle. Its arm lay on the ground before the mutilated corpse. The hand was still clutched around the grip of its pistol in a spastical manner. Like if the hand would hope that it could rewind time and prevent it's loss by this hopeless effort. The person that had been sitting on the opposite side simply got smashed into the wall with such a force that it's skull looked like an opened orange. The face was stripped of the skull to behind in a manner that made the entire head look like the man wanted to strip a full-head-clowns-mask of but stopped at the middle. Just that there was no face underneath the off-putten "mask" except the remnants of a smashed skull. Small wet chunks of the brain and a yellow liquid ran slow and patient out of their former prison and dropped in small ugly pieces on the shoulder of another poor man next to him. This one simply sat still and looked like nothing would have happened to him. If you don't mind the splitten head that rested in two parts of the respective shoulders. The rest of it filled up another heavy dent in the cars's hull through which small streaks of light entered the room light and battled it the even darker red lamp for surpremacy. The opposite side didn't look better either. One of the normal-clad policemen was standing at the wall with only held standing by one of the black shapes that still was resting on his body. The upper half looked rather normal (except for two holes made by bullets that had been accidently shot when the other man had been impaled by the leg). But the disturbing thing was that his entire stomach looked like it would have been sucked empty. Also the chest was rather flat. Cearteainly because even his lungs had been inhaled by the black thing, which was also responsible for the highpitched scream the poor man had given. Two other bodies were lying on the floor. The one was the man they had called "chief" with a small and thin leg sticking in his chest. The leg belonged to the third black shape that lay on the ground before him. It appearently killed the man as the last action of its life. Blackthing number three had been smashed to the exit-doors, dending but not opening them. It looked like an inferno of shells had hit it. Number two still lay "upon" the poor sucked-out policeman.
But the most disturbing sight was the black-skinned marine that looked heavily-wounded sitting on the left bench. Two feet away from him a pistol-holding max could be seen, standing on the opposite side of the now useless vehicle and wearing a very ill facial expression. "He spoke: "Im sorry. Really. "
"I know. Just do it."
The pistol made a DVUCK-sound, rolled back and then forth in its users hands. As result of beeing hit, the victims head rolled back against the wall, showing a faint smile. The "executioner" looked away towards the camera with closed eyes. Tears were running down from his cheeks. This picture burned itself into both girls minds like a steaming brand-mark into a horses leg. It was a picture that spoke volumes. A picture that became the novelization of tragedy. And the young man, forced to murder one of his friends he had fought to keep alive so hard, became the Idol of an anti-hero, the impersonation of the Pariah. In tara's mind he had been the saviour, in bonnie's the annoying but caring weirdo. Now he became somone who truly deserved pitty, help and a shoulder to cry on.
To everyones surprise a new voice opened: "Is it over? Can I come out now?"
On both sides of the screen amazement struck, as the even paler young marine hieved a corpse off from himself and stood up. He spotted the silently crying gunner. "Hey did you do that?" He asked while looking at his now dead comrade touching the executioners arm. The reaction was rather violently as the touched one started to keep beating the black dead shape that blocked the exit hatch, fighting for a way out of the terror he had wittnessed.
The last thing that could be seen was a hand reaching infront of the camera, as a short Shhhtz-sound marked the movies end.
No one spoke for over a minute before bonnie broke the silence: "Oh god and I even made fun of him. That explains A LOT."
