He was in a bad position, John smirked dryly as he slammed another clip into his assault rifle, the thing rattling in a worrying way each time he moved it about. Damn old stuff wearing out...
He was stuck behind a rusted car, fortunately someone had removed the engine from it so it wouldn't explode to enemy fire, not for a lack of the enemy trying...he shrugged as another part of the car's hood was torn off by a volley of fire. Were they planning on ripping the cover apart piece by piece? The car was wedged in between concrete dividers, having once crashed into the small walls dividing the two files of the road...so he could just drag himself over to one of those if the car became too damaged.
Drag was the word...John eyed the ugly wound running down his left leg. The minigun one of those Talon company guys struggled with had caught him in the open and stitched a fine line of wounds right from below his hip down to his knee. No bullet had struck anything vital, not even the bone. Flesh wounds...but a lot of them, and they stung like crazy, there was a lot of blood...
Shaking his head John wondered if the dizziness came out of blood loss or the weight loss that had hit him like a ton of bricks. He really should have packed more food before he left Rivet city, but travelling light went faster! Besides, he wasn't really hungry anymore. Or he was famished...but didn't want to eat. Meh, why was he caring about food? Especially when he was about to die?
Gritting his teeth he uncorked the bottle of vodka that had fallen out of the duffel bag and poured the content over the wound, washing away the worst of the filth and blood so he could get a good look at the wounds, the sting of the alcohol making him hiss. "Oh that's ugly..." Laying his weapon to the side John pulled out four stimpaks and punched the needles into his leg, emptying the content directly into the wound. "Oh God that hurts! Son of a...!"
Med-X, he needed Med-X! Pulling out two of the syringes he injected them into his arms, feeling new energy course into him. Though it felt empty...too much blood loss, this was bad. "Great, this is going to set me back so much...I hate these guys." He chuckled, dying might set him back a while too.
"How many are you?" Muttering the question John pulled his magnum, briefly checking that it was still in working order. A glance over the edge of the car didn't tell him anything new.
Three of the mercenaries stood atop a wooden platform built between the walls of a ruined building, a wooden pillar holding it up by the centre while the sides were secured against the remains of the building. The guy with the minigun was up there along with a man with some sort of pistol and another with a laser rifle. Under the platform another four mercenaries had gathered, hugging rubble while obviously preparing to advance. They had planned this quite well...
Rubbing his temple John checked his weapons, trying to come up with something to do. He was cornered, bleeding and outgunned. At least he was sort of comfortable against the car...each bullet hitting it sent quite a nice vibration down his back. Smiling he reached into his duffel bag and fished out a bottle of water, got to enjoy the smaller things in life...he drank deeply, the tingle of radiation quite pleasant to his tired head.
"Listen up!" Glancing over the corner John saw the pistol armed mercenary call out, a confident look on his face. Great...diplomacy... "If you come out without making any fuss I promise you a quick death!"
"Yeah right." John muttered while taking a sip out of his bottle. Then he tossed it aside, a weary sigh escaping him as he leant his head against the car. Couldn't they get this over with?
"Hell! We only need to take your ears! If you are really cooperative we will let you live without them! I'm nothing if not compassionate!" There were a few rough laughters to that. Yeah, laugh it up you bastards..."Isn't that a nice deal!?"
"I have a better offer!" John cocked the magnum before reaching out and grabbing the assault rifle with his left hand.
"Oh? And what is that?" More laughers.
"You leave now and I won't gut you like a dog!" John yelled the words instead of crying out in pain when he struggled into a low crouch. At least his feet were on the ground, wow, a lot of blood was still pouring from his wound...he was probably only standing because of the Med-X. Oh well...just another little problem.
"In that case-" The man didn't get a time to finish the sentence as John straightened. Squeezing the stock of the assault rifle between his side and his elbow he pressed the trigger for all he was worth, spraying inaccurate fire all over the enemy position and sending the mercenaries ducking into cover, still laughing.
He took better aim with his magnum, emptying the weapon right where he wanted it.
Both weapons were soon emptied.
Dropping to the ground again he breathed in sharply, struggling with the dark spots dancing before his eyes. Oh God....shaking his head he struggled to reload the two empty weapons even as the leader of his enemies laughed: "What the hell was that!? A raider aims better then you!"
"Do you know why I bought this magnum?" The question wasn't really aimed at the mercenaries, obviously being too low to be heard over the gunfire as they responded in kind, raking his cover with bullets. He slowly reloaded the sturdy pistol, numb fingers pushing each bullet into the chamber. "It's not the penetrating fire really, nor the scope...though that is nice." The gunfire slackened a little when a loud crack reverberated across the road. "It's the hitting power."
The supporting beam in the middle of the platform gave way when the wood, too broken up by the powerful pistol shots, couldn't handle the weight anymore... With an almighty crash the platform collapsed, sending rubble and dust flying all over the place, enveloping the building in a grey cloud from which screams and curses came out of the confused mercenaries.
John screamed, but got to his feet none the less, his leg wobbled...but held. "Suck on this!" Pulling the two grenades he still kept in his belt he pulled a pin, took aim...and threw. Even as the explosive arched through the air he repeated the process with the second grenade. Having been able to stand and take his time judging the distance John got the throws just right...both of them disappeared into the dust.
The twin explosions threw up even more dust...followed by a smattering of blood and rocks raining over the road, which was quickly followed by screams of pain an shock.
Grabbing both his guns John used his assault rifle as an improvised crutch while hobbling forward. Biting down on his lip he drew blood...there was no real pain however...a testament to the efficiency of Med-X no doubt. Still, the pain from the leg was already tangible, and it made his eyes water.
He saw the shape of a coughing mercenary stumble out of the dust...a loud crack followed as John's pistol spoke...
The man collapsed with half his head blown off.
Dragging himself forward he blinked, trying to will the tears away. Another shape begun to appear out of the now fading cloud...the weapon in his hands raised. John's shot blew a large part of the man's leg off...then a second blew a visible hole through the man's shoulder, sending him tumbling.
John stumbled, his leg giving way, falling on all four he glared upwards, gun raised. Three bullets left...five enemies left at most...get that assault rifle aiming forward! The sound of metal scratching against pavement reached his ears...oh...so the arm was still obeying him? Damn...John blinked, realizing the many painkillers in his system had made him groggy.
Finally the dust settled, revealing a scene of carnage.
The platform had been torn into small pieces of wood that now lay strewn around the rubble. Under the platform a pair of metal rods that had once been reinforcement of some fallen wall was sticking up, now they were stained red with blood as a mercenary coughed and spluttered, hands clawing at the steel running thought his stomach as he tried to pull himself up.
With a groan another mercenary appeared, his dark hair the only thing visible as he slowly pushed himself up on all four while pieces of debris fell off him...
John's shot went through the top of the man's head, instantly dropping him to the ground.
Two bullets...
Someone to the left!
John reacted too late, falling unto his back he felt fresh pain rush through him, his left shoulder going numb from the hail of pellets ripping through him. Combat shotgun...mercenary on the leftmost part of building...behind wall..taking cover...kill him before he takes another shot at you...act!
Blinking John felt the world spin around, blood loss, nothing to worry about...just kill this one...taking aim he placed his last two shots into the wall, a small space in-between them. A muted thud greeted his attack, the bullets having punched through the wall and into the man behind it. "Son...of a..." John dropped the pistol, his left arm was going numb...grumbling he reached over and grabbed the assault rifle with his good hand.
"Fucking...assholes!" He shouted, trying to block out the pain of getting to his feet. "Fucking Med-X!" He took a wobbly step forward, each step sending searing pain up his spine. "Fuck you all!" He placed his right foot on a pile of rubble and then....slowly...dragged his left foot up. "Ohhhh...Jesus!"
He caught the movement to his right simply because the man there had half his left arm sheared off and therefore swung the bent rifle of his towards John's head in a wide sweep. He had to be pumped full of Med-X too...the thought was as dull in John's mind as the pain of the jagged edge of the broken barrel hitting his temple, tearing up a wide gash from his left temple up towards the top of his forehead.
"Oh fuck!" Pain! John cried out, not over the distant pain of the wound across his face, nor over the fact that his vision suddenly became clouded by warm blood. The pain was focused directly on his left leg as the blow made him put some weight on it...which instantly sent him falling to the left and unto his back.
Sensing rather then seeing the drugged mercenary stumble towards him John raised his assault rifle, pressing the stock down against the ground he poured bullets where he believed his foe stood. "No!" A meaty sound. "No! I...guh..." More meaty sounds, scrapping sounds reached John's ears as the mercenary stumbled back, the inaccurate fire obviously having torn him open.
Click, click, click.
Dropping the assault rifle John heard a muted thud. The mercenary must have fallen, with his arm sliced off and whatever other wounds he'd acquired he wouldn't get up...good.
"One left..." John reached up and wiped the blood out of his eyes, his vision was unfocused...it had to do. "Come here you little...bastard!" He pushed himself into a sitting position, drew his sword, leant its tip against the ground...and begun to use it to get to his feet again. "I'm really going to hurt you..." Somehow he got to his feet, swaying where he stood.
"Uh...ghu...?" Blinking John looked over to his left. The man that had been speared on the broken metal rods was staring at him, meekly raising his arm and reaching towards John, a pleading look on his face.
John snorted, the small vibration going down his leg as painful as if it had been racked by a Yao Guai. "What are you looking at?!" He chuckled, welcoming the pain, it kept him awake... "Fucking prick...oh there you are." John's grin went ear to ear as he saw a stirring shape face down under a sheet of rocks. "The comedian!" Stumbling forward John stabbed down just as the mercenary commander begun to come around, the blade neatly pierced the right leg of the man, drawing a scream from him as he was jolted into consciousness.
"Ah!" The man reached for the blade stabbed through his thigh, only to scream once more as the blade was pulled out. Serves you right...John watched the man reach towards his hip...a clumsy sweep of his blade and the muscles of the upper arm was severed. "Oh God!" The man twitched, his other hand trying to push him up.
"Quit your whining." John reached down, though his left arm was more or less unmovable he could still grip with it...grabbing the man by the back of the collar he pulled upwards. The pain almost overwhelmed him for a moment...but he welcomed it...he was pain. Having pulled the man's face from the ground he pushed his right wrist against the throat of his foe and...heaved!
Stumbling all went dark and John barely managed to catch himself from falling over...shaking his head he forced his vision back. "Wow...almost got blind there." Looking over he saw the commander of the mercenaries lie on his back, a whimper escaping the man as he clutched the wound in his leg with his usable arm. "Oh be a man! My leg is about to fall off and you don't see me complaining!"
"Please...!"
"Yes, it will please me to gut you like a fish!" John stumbled forward, each step sending fresh pain up his spine. It wasn't so bad anymore...though that might be because his grip on consciousness was tentative at best. "It will please me to do my part of the deal!" His left leg gave up, dropping him unto one knee. It didn't matter though, he was now next to the still blubbering mercenary.
"You...can't...please..."
"Stop embarrassing yourself." John reversed the grip on his sword, his palm slick with...blood? Huh...John pushed his sword into his opponents abdomen, eliciting a muffled groan from his foe. "I keep my promises you see...and I've promised myself to tear you apart." His muscles strained with exhaustion, but obeyed when he pulled the sword towards him, the blade tearing up the abdomen from side to side.
"Ah...ah...gah...I..." The man managed, eyes rolling back as a weak hand blindly reached for the wide wound...only to drop to the side as strength abandoned him. "P..ple..." The word was turned into a gurgle when John dropped the sword and reached down, hand digging into the wound, finding squishy organs drenched in blood.
He yanked, the man's mouth moved in a silent scream as something came loose within him. "Can't pull your heart out...but how about the guts?" Leaning forward John stared into the eyes of his foe, he felt nothing but disgust with the wide brown eyes staring back at him, like a dying brahmin...
Disgusting!
The man twitched when John yanked again, pulling something out through the wound.
Animal!
Another yank and the mouth opened wide, silently screaming at the sky even as a his legs kicked out at the air.
Filth!
A third yank and a two whole feet of intestines came out. "Ah...!"
A little disappointed John watched the man's final breath escape him. "You deserved worse." Reluctantly he pulled his arm out of his foe's wound and rolled unto his back...and groaned as he realised he'd left his duffel bag over by the car. "Great...now I have to walk all the way back, thanks asshole." He punched the corpse next to him, grimacing at the sight of the viscera wobbling atop the body. His handiwork...the guilt was instantly replaced by grim satisfaction of having made such a monster really suffer.
"God you smell bad."