Post by Bishop Morse on May 2, 2012 11:03:18 GMT -5
Burts
”Get that little shit up!" Burts yelled. As he spat the words out, bits of spittle dripped down into his beard. He wiped it with his sleeveless arm, and came back to focus on the crying child who had fallen to the floor. The dirt and sand went into a cut on the boys face. Behind the boy there was a large man holding a shotgun. He was grabbing the boy by the arm and pulling him up, but the boy wasn’t cooperating to make it any easier.
Burt’s rolled his eyes, and walked over to the line of people that were all being held together in a group. They had nothing that bound them together, but that was soon to change. This was just the preliminary portion. But it tended to go over easier when the people were just scared, and weren’t out crying and making it difficult. He stepped quickly over the dirt and stopped right in front of the boy who was sniveling and crying. He had oval eyes and dark hair, as did several of the people who were being rounded up.
”Get up! You slope eyed little piss, get up!” Burts yelled at the boy. But it wasn’t getting much of a response out of him.
”Mommy!” The little boy yelled, looking over at a woman who was with the others and was spouting out words to try to get the boy to what Burts said.
But Burts had already come to the conclusion as to what he needed to do to get the boy to comply. He reached into the holsters on either side of him, removing the Marakov pistols. Holding them in his hand, he walked over towards the woman who appeared to be the boy’s mother. He pointed the gun in his right hand at her and then looked at the boy.
”Pick it now boy! You can cry to her or over her, figure it out!” Burts announced to the boy, giving him quite the ultimatum. Either he would shape up and do as asked, or he would shoot the boys mother.
The boy quickly started trying to get control of himself. He got to his feet, and tried very hard to stop the tears from falling down his face. The muscular man behind him pushed him over to the rest of the group. They were then starting to be pushed towards the large metal mass which was the Shell-back freighter, the Hardtack. The cargo ramp was down, and they were ushering the group of roughly twenty men, woman, and children forward.
Suddenly one of the younger men, only about 18 or so, struck the large man with the shotgun in the face with every bit of force he could muster. Then he started making a run towards freedom, out towards the desert. The large man fell to the floor and had to roll his eyes a bit to come back to reality. He wasn’t expecting such a hard hit. It wasn’t that he couldn’t take it, just that he was taken very much by surprise.
The boy ran amazingly fast away from the group, putting as much effort in as he could. If he slowed down even a little bit, his only chance at freedom fight be lost.
”Boss, one a the fuckers’s getting away!” The large man yelled, trying to point in the direction he’d run off.
But Burts had already seen him. He glared in anger as the boy ran away from him. That he would dare to pull such a stunt was insulting to Burts. His face showed his rage pouring in. He took a step forward and brought the Marakov in his right hand straight up.
Bang Bang Bang
Burts fired three rounds at the boy who was easily 70 meters away. All three of the bullets connected with boys back, and he fell to the ground.
The group of people began screaming as the shots rang out, as though it may do something to stop the inevitable. But it didn’t matter, the boy was dead.
”Throw his body on the ship, we can still harvest his organs.” Burts yelled at the large man who’d fallen over
Burts then turned around and walked back towards the group of people. He kicked one, which got the rest to begin moving towards the ship, and he watched as they all were loaded into it’s hold.
”Get that little shit up!" Burts yelled. As he spat the words out, bits of spittle dripped down into his beard. He wiped it with his sleeveless arm, and came back to focus on the crying child who had fallen to the floor. The dirt and sand went into a cut on the boys face. Behind the boy there was a large man holding a shotgun. He was grabbing the boy by the arm and pulling him up, but the boy wasn’t cooperating to make it any easier.
Burt’s rolled his eyes, and walked over to the line of people that were all being held together in a group. They had nothing that bound them together, but that was soon to change. This was just the preliminary portion. But it tended to go over easier when the people were just scared, and weren’t out crying and making it difficult. He stepped quickly over the dirt and stopped right in front of the boy who was sniveling and crying. He had oval eyes and dark hair, as did several of the people who were being rounded up.
”Get up! You slope eyed little piss, get up!” Burts yelled at the boy. But it wasn’t getting much of a response out of him.
”Mommy!” The little boy yelled, looking over at a woman who was with the others and was spouting out words to try to get the boy to what Burts said.
But Burts had already come to the conclusion as to what he needed to do to get the boy to comply. He reached into the holsters on either side of him, removing the Marakov pistols. Holding them in his hand, he walked over towards the woman who appeared to be the boy’s mother. He pointed the gun in his right hand at her and then looked at the boy.
”Pick it now boy! You can cry to her or over her, figure it out!” Burts announced to the boy, giving him quite the ultimatum. Either he would shape up and do as asked, or he would shoot the boys mother.
The boy quickly started trying to get control of himself. He got to his feet, and tried very hard to stop the tears from falling down his face. The muscular man behind him pushed him over to the rest of the group. They were then starting to be pushed towards the large metal mass which was the Shell-back freighter, the Hardtack. The cargo ramp was down, and they were ushering the group of roughly twenty men, woman, and children forward.
Suddenly one of the younger men, only about 18 or so, struck the large man with the shotgun in the face with every bit of force he could muster. Then he started making a run towards freedom, out towards the desert. The large man fell to the floor and had to roll his eyes a bit to come back to reality. He wasn’t expecting such a hard hit. It wasn’t that he couldn’t take it, just that he was taken very much by surprise.
The boy ran amazingly fast away from the group, putting as much effort in as he could. If he slowed down even a little bit, his only chance at freedom fight be lost.
”Boss, one a the fuckers’s getting away!” The large man yelled, trying to point in the direction he’d run off.
But Burts had already seen him. He glared in anger as the boy ran away from him. That he would dare to pull such a stunt was insulting to Burts. His face showed his rage pouring in. He took a step forward and brought the Marakov in his right hand straight up.
Bang Bang Bang
Burts fired three rounds at the boy who was easily 70 meters away. All three of the bullets connected with boys back, and he fell to the ground.
The group of people began screaming as the shots rang out, as though it may do something to stop the inevitable. But it didn’t matter, the boy was dead.
”Throw his body on the ship, we can still harvest his organs.” Burts yelled at the large man who’d fallen over
Burts then turned around and walked back towards the group of people. He kicked one, which got the rest to begin moving towards the ship, and he watched as they all were loaded into it’s hold.