Robocop: Alternate Reality
"Freeze"
"Crap it's a cop"
The crook sitting on the stool nearest to the TV reached for his shotgun, too slow by the time his hand had reached the weapon he had two holes in his brain, oozing black coloured blood. The shots reverberated through the seemingly abandoned warehouse.
"Think it over creep, dead or alive you're coming with me" He told the other remaining criminal.
Cop Alex Murphy smiled too himself. First day on the job at my new station and already busted a guy, things are looking good. The musty smell of an abandoned factory went right up Murphy's nose, it almost made his eyes water however he kept a constant eye open and kept his Sig Sauer trained on the crook he was arresting, sometimes he checked his surroundings. They were in the corner of the warehouse with a gantry above their heads with several tarps hanging down giving the illusion that this part of the factory was a lounge, with a black sofa, stool and a coffee table with a propped on top of it. The TV was on and playing one of Murphy's favourite comedies "It's not my problem".
"Okay get up tough guy, up against the wall and spread your legs" Murphy quietly commanded. Murphy reached for some handcuffs and talked into his radio to his partner.
"Lewis you copy, I got a live one here over".
Silence
"Lewis hurry up, I hear some people coming over"
He heard people's footsteps clattering on the walkway, soon followed by the simultaneous pumping of their shotguns.
Murphy took his eyes and gun off the crook and started to scan the walkway for the criminal's accomplices. He could make out three of them each armed with a twelve gauge shotgun; some of them had pistols tucked in their belts.
"Why don't you let us take over from here Emil" asked the tallest of the crooks
Emil's arms swung around and managed to knock Murphy's pistol right from his hand.
He then picked up his shotgun from the sofa, pumped it and pushed it right into Murphy's chin.
"Your ass is mine" Emil stated
"No, not yet it ain't Emil"
Murphy craned his head to where the voice was coming from, even though he still had the cold muzzle of Emil's twelve gauge lodged in his chin. Murphy could make out a man of about average height, balding, perhaps in his mid thirties, wearing a black jacket, white shirt and jeans, he looked a lot smarter than Emil did; who was short and stocky with no hair except a ginger beard, and was dressed in motorcycle leathers.
The man had his left hand on a shotgun which he was resting on his left shoulder and the right hand tucked in the pockets of his jeans. Just below a black leather holster which was currently home to a .45 Desert Eagle.
"Well well well what have we here eh?" The mysterious man approached him and calmly put his hand on Murphy's helmet strap near his chin; the man undid the strap quickly and took off Murphy's helmet, then placed it on Emil's head.
The man circled Murphy.
"Are you a good cop, hotshot?" he asked
Murphy didn't reply.
"Of course you are why you must be some kind of great cop to come in here all by yourself"
Murphy remained silent.
"Where's your partner eh? Where's your partner"
Murphy managed to catch a glimpse of the man swinging his shotgun right at his leg, Murphy felt a sharp blow to his right thigh, enough to make him collapse to the floor.
He heard some more footsteps in the room, followed by a fairly high voice.
"The other one was upstairs, she was sweeeeeeeeeet!"
Damn they've got Lewis. Murphy looked as the gang laughed, the new person, a well built black man with a combat jacket and beret flashed him a shiny mocking smile.
"I bet that really pisses you off" asked the leader of the gang "I suppose you don't think I'm a very nice guy, do you?"
This time Murphy did reply, "Buddy I think your slime"
Yet more laughs, the leader pumped his shotgun, pushed Murphy firmly on the ground with his right foot and aimed the twelve gauge at Murphy's head.
"You see I got this problem, cops don't like me, so I don't like cops"
He then started pointing the gun at Murphy's neck, chest, and right arm all the time making a machine gun like noise, the barrel of the gun reached Murphy's hand.
BANG!
Murphy turned in time to see his hand completely blow apart. He got up gasping for breath, the amount of pain causing him to stagger. The smell of cordite mixing with the aroma of his own blood burned his nostrils, taking even more precious oxygen away from him.
"Give the man a hand!" The leader stated, more laughs. "Alright, he's all yours"
"Okay okay, hey pretty boy". He heard Emil giggle.
Murphy turned round to see Emil point his shotgun at him, BANG. A moist cloud of warm red liquid erupted from the right side of Murphy's torso as his entire right arm went flying off. It landed a few feet away from him with a moist 'thunk'.
"ARGHH!"
This was followed by a rapid succession of twelve gauge blasts, the hot lead erupting from the barrels of torturers, which tore his body armour to pieces and started piercing his soft flesh. He rolled his eyes down, seeing the shrapnel and slugs impacting against his body. Trying to move back to evade them somehow. Useless. The shots were tearing at his legs, he could barely stand.
"ARGH"
Murphy couldn't scream any more; his lungs shredded, his stomach eviscerated .The pain he was in was tremendous, on the verge of blacking out. He wished the darkness would come soon. The bangs stopped, Murphy fell to his knees.
"Ah shit, I'm outta ammo"
"Does it hurt, does it hurt, hahahahahah"
The voices were blurred, he couldn't make out who they belonged to, the whole room was spinning and darkness was creeping in. Finally, the pain will be over. Murphy fell back onto the hard ground of the floor, waiting for whatever would happen.
"Alright come on guys lets move out"
"Hey Clarence, I think the asshole's still alive"
"Who gives a fuck now lets get out of here"
Murphy let the darkness creep in, he was calm now, beyond pain, emotion, floating almost. He heard another voice, different, soft, soothing, and perfect.
A few minutes later he heard a new sound. A fan like noise, people shouting, the heavenly voice near him, controlled yet angry? Who cares, he was in his own world, away from pain and suffering. Soon he would be in an even better world, but for now he was content and patient. Waiting for the inevitable.
He then felt he was being carried, harsh light hit his eyes. Leave me alone, I'm perfect.
The sun, a dark building, whirring blades. At last he was on his way. His moment and no-one would interfere, no-one. Murphy closed his eyes and let his mind do the rest.
Darkness.