Hey, so this was meant to be up was earlier than it is, mainly 'cause we had power outages in my suburb, and only my suburb. Unfair, I know. Anyway, I had no idea what was going to happen when I started this chapter, so I hold no responsibility for any continuity errors, this thing is practically writing itself. There's a few major plot developments in this chapter, and a really sick fight scene. I'm not too good at those so if it's bad, I apologise. Onwards and upwards!
Don't own Dying Light, still. One day though.
As I ran down the street, past the supermarket, I heard a girl scream. Long and high pitched, followed by a roar. Without even thinking, I pulled my machete off my pack, and burst into the building.
The door swung inwards, the glass panes shattering as it struck the wall. The sound knocked me out of my trance. What the hell was I doing? Racing in to what could be a trap. Why? Because of a single scream. There hadn't been a sound since. And the timing of it all seemed a bit convenient. Slowing down, I crept forward, watching my feet. I walked through the aisles, all of them empty. I reached the last isle, number 13.
"Lucky me, again." There was a zombie at the end, slamming its fists against the window of a freezer. Even from where I was, I could see cracks appearing in the glass. I was about to run forwards and cut off its head, when I saw its foot. Shackled to a heavy chain. I doubted it could move very far. I pulled a knife from a satchel on my belt, and pulled my arm back. I let the blade fly, it whistled through the air, spinning end over end. It struck the zombie in the side of the head, embedding itself with a dull thud. That was when something crashed into my back, knocking me to the ground, causing me to slide down the aisle. Looking back up, I saw a group of 5 men. Four of them were average size, wielding an assortment of hammers and blades of different kinds. They didn't look like they would win any prizes.
Dull, Blunt, Brick, and Sleepy. The last bandit was tall and heavily muscled, a large sword rested in his right hand. Tahir.
"Well, well, well. Look at who we found here. You know, I was testing you back at the garrison, trying to see what you were capable of. You think I'd lose so easily? Somehow, you caught be by surprise, I'll give you that. But now, I've had it with you, so I'll give you a chance. You leave now, never return and we let you live. The patrols stay the same, no one has to die. Well, at least no one important. You choose to stay, I think you can see how that would go." I stood up, and lowered myself into a fighting stance, one foot in front of the other, machete at shoulder level. "I see. Kill her." As one, the four other bandits rushed forwards. Dull reached me first swinging a sickle wide and fast, I blocked with my own blade, sending up a shower of sparks. His arm reeled back, stunning him. I spun, reaching for the long knife on the side of my thigh, and sliced straight across his throat, splattering blood across my face.
One down. Brick was next, hammer coming down towards my head. I grabbed his wrist moments away from impact, and rolled him over my shoulder. I stabbed down with my machete, blood sprayed over my legs.
Two down. Blunt and Sleepy attacked as one, a hatchet and a crowbar sailed towards me, both from different angles. I rolled forwards under their attacks, my blades plunged deep into their stomachs, covering my chest with even more blood. I stood up as they fell to the ground, and chucked my pack down the aisle behind me. I was an imposing sight. Covered in blood, machete and knife painted red. My eyes were hard, determined. There was no way I'd lose. Tahir sighed.
"If you want something done," he said, as he lumbered towards me. "You just have to do it yourself."
I jumped back as his sword came at me, almost before I could react, skimming across my arm, tearing the shirt. This wasn't the slow, predictable bandit I'd almost shot that morning. This was a warrior, a soldier with only one mission. To kill me. He kicked at my shins, I jumped over and kicked off his chest sending me back down the aisle. He stumbled a step, but recovered too quickly, and was already rushing forwards as I rolled to my feet. A fist slammed into the side of my face, sending me sideways into the shelves. I dodged away as his sword came down at me. I kicked at his knee, hoping to knock him down, but he must have seen it coming. He backed off at the last second, my foot continued, taking me off balance. His knee rocketed up into my chest, knocking the air from me. I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. I felt a foot press into my back, and felt steel against my neck. I elbowed his leg several times, trying to dislodge it. Nothing was working. I felt the sword disappear from my neck, knowing it would be back soon. As a last resort, I swung the knife behind me, and was rewarded with a roar of pain. The handle slipped from my fingers, and I rolled from the path of the sword, still travelling downwards. It embedded into the tiles, sticking. Tahir was struggling to free it. I stood and saw the knife stuck into his knee. I ran forward, swinging at his right arm with all my strength, hoping to limit his ability to fight. Before my machete could make contact, his left arm came up in front of his right. By then, it was too late to stop the swing. The blade sliced through his arm, taking it off just above the elbow. He bellowed in rage and heaved his remaining arm with a mighty heave. The sword flew free of the ground. I couldn't dodge back. The end of the sword cut straight up my chest, an inch deep. It sliced up my neck and face. I felt it cut straight through my eye, and it continued up my forehead. I screamed. It was loud and raw, sounding more like a Viral than a human. With a hand still over my eye, I pulled out the handgun and fired. The shot echoed through the building, the bullet pinged off something metal, and I heard footsteps running away before I could feel nothing.
I woke screaming, my face, neck, and chest felt like they were on fire. The wound probably felt worse than it was. I felt soothing hands stroke my hair and face, being careful to stay away from the injury. I couldn't remember a thing through the pain, there was no memory of how I got the injury or where I was. All I knew was pain. I felt something get injected into my arm, and a few minutes later, the pain lessened to a bearable level. Seconds later, I was asleep.
I know, it's short. I just got stuck on how to keep going with this train. The next chapter will be longer, and the real plot changes happen next time. Thanks for reading, adieu!