MJBuddy
2003-07-09, 01:01 AM
Where the hell was he? It seemed to be an office room. He could see a familiar city outside of the large, freshly cleaned windows. It was dark now, as though day had just ended and the darkness had just swept over and ignited the city lights in glowing splendor. He could sit there admiring the view forever it seemed, but the peace didn�t last long as he was wrenched away from the window by a strong hand and pulled to the ground.
�What the hell are you doing? Get down man.�
A man was under the table, staring intently at a door across the room which seemed to have something strapped to it. He was confused, to say the least. As he waited here, looking at the more then slightly suspicious door, he began organizing his thoughts.
Who the hell is this guy? Where the hell am I?
A loud explosion rocked the building and it seemed to shake. Phones were tossed off of their desks and chairs began to topple. The freshly cleaned windows he had just admired shattered and fell onto the crowds of scattering people below. Then, as sudden as the shaking started, it all stopped.
No structural damage at first glance, all the walls were intact and the building felt as stable as ever, excluding the strong winds coming through where the windows once were. There were shouts now, coming from across the room and getting closer. He then remembered the man, the one who pulled him down. The man was still staring at the door.
�Who are you?�
The man didn�t answer; he simply turned and put his finger to his mouth, basically telling me to shut up. It didn�t take long to see why. A group of men burst through the door that the mysterious man had been watching, as a second explosion rocked the room and it was quite clear the intention of the item that had been strapped to the door.
The man ran forward and pulled a shiny object from a small sheath hanging from his belt. Another man emerged from the smoke of the explosion right as the mystery man thrusted his knife forward into the victim.
The view was clear now, as the smoke cleared. The mystery man with a knife pressed directly into the stomach of the other man, who was dressed in a black special-forces type gear with a small machine-gun hanging by strap over his shoulder and being clenched tightly in one hand as the other dropped its grip to his side.
The man pulled his knife away, and the body dropped to the ground. They both saw it now, the mystery man with a smile on his face. There were bodies littered on the floor, at least eight; six of them in special forces gear like the one he saw stabbed. The mystery man bent down to pick up one of the guns, but almost instantly footsteps were heard from the floor above. He pushed himself against the wall and seemed to wait in ambush for the oncoming targets.
They didn�t enter though; they just stood in front of the doorway looking at the bodies. Then they saw him under the desk.
They raised their guns in his direction and barked out the obvious orders, �Whose there? Get up! Hands in the air!�
He did as they said; it was better that way, now at least he could see them all. There were four of them, two in special forces gear, two in security uniforms. The special forces each had a small machine gun like the ones he watched get dropped before, but the security guards had pistols. They were lined up in a crooked formation, none standing next to each other, but so that they could all see what was going on in the room. Then he glanced around quickly. There were two doors, one to the stairs and one to the left of it on the connecting wall. There were always the broken windows behind him.
Wait! Why exactly am I thinking all of this. What? All ways out. Why am I trying to escape?
His eyes then locked on the wall to the left of him. There it was! A fire axe incased in glass on the wall.
No! I should just go along quietly. People are dying here and I don�t want to be one of them.
The special forces front man cocked his head to the side and talked into a microphone on the side of his face. It was hard, but he could make out some of his words through the whisper.
�Got one�52nd floor�window cleaner over.�
Who the hell? The man thought to himself as he looked down at his outfit. Holy shit! I am a window cleaner.
At that exact moment, it started. The mystery man swung his arm out and caught the special forces guy in the front right in the throat and ripped hard towards him spraying blood around the body and causing it to spin with its back towards to room as it began to collapse. The mystery man rushed out and caught him quickly, shielding himself from the 3 behind him as their guns came up began to fire.
�What the hell are you doing? Get down man.�
A man was under the table, staring intently at a door across the room which seemed to have something strapped to it. He was confused, to say the least. As he waited here, looking at the more then slightly suspicious door, he began organizing his thoughts.
Who the hell is this guy? Where the hell am I?
A loud explosion rocked the building and it seemed to shake. Phones were tossed off of their desks and chairs began to topple. The freshly cleaned windows he had just admired shattered and fell onto the crowds of scattering people below. Then, as sudden as the shaking started, it all stopped.
No structural damage at first glance, all the walls were intact and the building felt as stable as ever, excluding the strong winds coming through where the windows once were. There were shouts now, coming from across the room and getting closer. He then remembered the man, the one who pulled him down. The man was still staring at the door.
�Who are you?�
The man didn�t answer; he simply turned and put his finger to his mouth, basically telling me to shut up. It didn�t take long to see why. A group of men burst through the door that the mysterious man had been watching, as a second explosion rocked the room and it was quite clear the intention of the item that had been strapped to the door.
The man ran forward and pulled a shiny object from a small sheath hanging from his belt. Another man emerged from the smoke of the explosion right as the mystery man thrusted his knife forward into the victim.
The view was clear now, as the smoke cleared. The mystery man with a knife pressed directly into the stomach of the other man, who was dressed in a black special-forces type gear with a small machine-gun hanging by strap over his shoulder and being clenched tightly in one hand as the other dropped its grip to his side.
The man pulled his knife away, and the body dropped to the ground. They both saw it now, the mystery man with a smile on his face. There were bodies littered on the floor, at least eight; six of them in special forces gear like the one he saw stabbed. The mystery man bent down to pick up one of the guns, but almost instantly footsteps were heard from the floor above. He pushed himself against the wall and seemed to wait in ambush for the oncoming targets.
They didn�t enter though; they just stood in front of the doorway looking at the bodies. Then they saw him under the desk.
They raised their guns in his direction and barked out the obvious orders, �Whose there? Get up! Hands in the air!�
He did as they said; it was better that way, now at least he could see them all. There were four of them, two in special forces gear, two in security uniforms. The special forces each had a small machine gun like the ones he watched get dropped before, but the security guards had pistols. They were lined up in a crooked formation, none standing next to each other, but so that they could all see what was going on in the room. Then he glanced around quickly. There were two doors, one to the stairs and one to the left of it on the connecting wall. There were always the broken windows behind him.
Wait! Why exactly am I thinking all of this. What? All ways out. Why am I trying to escape?
His eyes then locked on the wall to the left of him. There it was! A fire axe incased in glass on the wall.
No! I should just go along quietly. People are dying here and I don�t want to be one of them.
The special forces front man cocked his head to the side and talked into a microphone on the side of his face. It was hard, but he could make out some of his words through the whisper.
�Got one�52nd floor�window cleaner over.�
Who the hell? The man thought to himself as he looked down at his outfit. Holy shit! I am a window cleaner.
At that exact moment, it started. The mystery man swung his arm out and caught the special forces guy in the front right in the throat and ripped hard towards him spraying blood around the body and causing it to spin with its back towards to room as it began to collapse. The mystery man rushed out and caught him quickly, shielding himself from the 3 behind him as their guns came up began to fire.