It's fucked, is what it is
I'm just a little behind, just a little. If I want to hit today's word goal, I have to make about 2 to 3k but that's okay. Can totally work with that. OH OH, I finished Chapter 2! I am not sure how many of you would agree with how the chapter ended, but I figured it was high time Noah saved Honor's ass for a change. Look, Honor, he's 15, not a helpless princess.
This is a direct continuation of THIS. There is additional dialogue in the finished version but nothing too critical, just bantering between Honor and Noah. Guys, just get a room already.
Current word count: 24, 247
Day 16
“Fuck,” Honor muttered, “Just how many of them are there?”
“Only one way to find out,” came Noah’s voice farther down the corridor. Noah had wandered ahead, glancing around him for any more giants. They had been all over the place earlier but now it seemed like they were all gone. Had they run away?
Something moved in the corner of his eye; Noah turning his head to catch a glimpse of it. Sprawling behind him was empty space. Honor was no where in sight. It’s okay, he told himself. I can do this.
A little voice in his head said, maybe they got Honor. He can’t see them afterall. That thought sent a chill up Noah’s spine, his upper lip breaking out in a nervous sweat. Oh god. No way.
In the corner of hs eye again, a fast moving blur. But this time Noah could distinctly make out the color black. Slowly turning, the edges of a black giant came into view. Noah couldn’t find the strength to run, especially when he had turned around completely and looked up and up and up into the giant’s face.
Oh. Shit.
The giant gave a deep groan, exhaling tobacco smoke from his lips and nostrils. Noah’s reflex to cough nearly overpowered him but he forced himself to stay still. No sudden movements.
“Hit the fucking ground!”
Noah dove for the floor as fast as he could. Honor was standing behind him, unloading round after round into the giant. The giant was knocked back a step with each shot until its chest was riddled with empty smoking holes. With a long groan, it fell backwards on to the floor.
Noah stood up, surveying the mess on his face and clothes. He was covered in dark red blood. His face was twisted in several shades of disgust. “Oh, fuck.”
Honor grinned at him, propping his shotgun against his shoulder. Like some fucking action hero, Noah added bitterly. “I should have told you not to wander off on your--”
“Fuck! Behind you!”
Honor couldn’t duck in time. The moment he turned his head, a giant fist came flying into his gut. The force of it loosened Honor’s hold on his shotgun and he was propeled across the corridor into a glass display, breaking glass and knocking mannequins over. His shotgun had slid across the corridor floor several feet from Noah.
Noah’s eyes instantly saw the blood coating sharp edges of glass. Panic welled in the pit of his stomach. He had to get the shotgun. He bolted across the floor, arm stretched for it. The air around him barely whistled when another fist came his way and it was fast reflexes that saved him from a sure head crush. He rolled the opposite way just in time for a reprisal and then another and then another.
Perhaps if he tried to get that thing far from the shotgun he’d be able to snatch it off the ground. He ducked another punch and jumped over a kick to reach for the shotgun again.
Noah knews the rules of size. The bigger the body, the slower it should move. But Noah isn’t quite sure how that rule could apply to these things that moved faster than he could see. He’s not even quite sure how he was managing so far, dodging huge hands and feet. But he knows he’s lost when he distinctly sees a heavy black foot plant itself on the shotgun and a huge fist lashing out to strike.
When the blow connects with his body, he feels himself being propelled several feet before he even registered the pain. His body made a dull thud when it hit the glass railing, a dull note resounding when his head hit the metal frame. His mind swam for a few seconds. When he looked up, his unfocused eyes saw 3 approaching black blurs.
Satisfied with this, the giant turned back to Honor. Where the man had been lying, dazed and confused among display items, there was only an empty space. There was a sharp pain and it was poignantly aware that a blade had just been wedged between its eyes.
“Fucking beast,” came a voice, perhaps too close. There was a quick turn of the blade and that was it. Whatever brain there was in that skull was sliced right in the middle. The black giant fell to the ground. Honor was standing just an inch from where the giant had been, breathing heavily, an arm around his chest (it might just be a bruised rib if he was lucky, or internal hemorrhaging), a silver dagger in his other hand. There was barely an inch of flesh that wasn’t covered in blood. He kicked the giant’s’s foot off his shotgun, sheathing his dagger in the process, and picked the shotgun up.
Noah’s focus returned in full force when he heard three distinct gun shots ring out. The blurs fell to the ground. Footsteps coming closer to him and Honor’s voice: “You okay, kid?”
The retort came automatically from Noah’s mouth. “I thought I told you to stop calling me that.” All he received for his trouble was a laugh. A strong hand gripped him by the arm and hauled him bodily to stand. “Yeah, you’ll live.” Metal was cold against Noah’s palm as Honor slapped a gun into his hand. “Now. Stop whining.”
Noah had to blink several times just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. There was too much blood. Honor was cut everywhere yet there he was, standing tall as if he hadn’t been smashed through a display window. It barely even occured to him that he was holding a gun in one of his own hands. “Are you okay?”
Honor had the gall to shrug although it was quite obvious that it pained him. He shifted the shotgun into his left hand instead. “Only a flesh wound. This time you lead, okay.”
Having a gun meant that Noah had to squeeze the trigger. He no longer has to point out every single giant to Honor, which was more frightening than he imagined. Honor followed closely behind, dripping a trail of blood as he limped. Noah grit his teeth, trying not to drag Honor out the door to wrap those wounds up. This has to wrap up quickly then.
The giants are sneakier this time around, hiding in the shadows and behind corners. They relied heavily on the element of surprise, giving them an easier shot at Noah and Honor’s vital parts. The first time Noah fired the gun, it was purely by accident. A giant lunged from its hiding place between the fruit shake stand and the hotdog stand (although, Noah would like to comment, it wasn’t a very effective hiding place, he could see it across the floor). Moving too fast, Noah panicked and squeezed the trigger.
The gun went off as expected but the bullet buried itself in the giant’s foot. It gave a low howl, staggering back in pain. Honor blew its head clean off, various chunks of head meat flying in several directions, right before Noah could land a second shot.
“Not bad,” Honor whispered into Noah’s ear, genuinely impressed. “Next time, try to aim higher.”
Noah stared at the body, its fingers still twitching a bit until those tremors died away. “O-okay,” he managed to whisper. Honor had to give him a firm shove to the shoulder for Noah to start walking again. The next time he pulled the trigger, his aim is much better. A shallow smoking hole appears on the giant’s chest and despite its terrifying speed and strength, it was relatively dumb. It looked down to see the wound and never anticipated another bullet straight into its head.
The muzzle of the gun was painted in blood where Noah had pressed it against the giant’s head, right among its unruly curls. Honor gave an appreciative whistle. Noah doesn’t bother to talk back at hime or to boast. He continued onwards, eyes peeled for any trace of black, until his ears are ringing with the sounds of gunshots.
Nearly two hours later, everything was silent. Noah tried to collect himself, eyes trained on the unmoving body of the giants. They were scattered everywhere he could see, big red puddles around their heads like a corona. Noah’s hands shook so bad that the gun made the barest of rattling noises.
His knees almost gave way when Honor clamped a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, “Let’s get out of here.”
Noah had never been more obedient in his entire life. He followed Honor out the employees’ exit, walking a path so vague that he had to brace himself against the wall. Ahead of him, Honor already threw open the exit door.
The afternoon sun stung his eyes worse than it should. He clamped his eyes shut, turning away from it. Honor had to grab his hand, his large fingers around the gun as well, and tugged Noah after him. As they sprinted across the parking lot , towards Honor’s SUV, the sounds of sirens carried over the breeze.
The last few steps to the SUV, Honor had to stop and catch his breath. Noah couldn’t help but slow down to check on him. His wounds hadn’t stopped bleeding and the parking lot undoubtedly had a trail of blood drops. So much for a clean escape. And of course there would be security cameras inside. The best they could do was to get out of there as quick as they could. Casting a glance at Honor’s right arm, Noah could see that it was no longer on speaking terms with Honor; it was hanging limply at his side.
“Hey,” Noah whispered, “You can’t possibly drive like that. Your arm looks pretty bad.”
Honor gave a dry laugh. “It’s fucked, is what it is. So what do you propose we do?”
“I’ll drive.”
This time, Honor’s laugh was genuine. “You’re, how old, fifteen?” As a counterpoint to his words, he was already fishing out his car keys from his back pocket. “Well, whatever. Let’s just get the hell out of here.”
They managed to pull out of the parking lot just as police cars arrived. Noah couldn’t stop himself from thinking, Well, now I’m fucked too.
This is a direct continuation of THIS. There is additional dialogue in the finished version but nothing too critical, just bantering between Honor and Noah. Guys, just get a room already.
Current word count: 24, 247
Day 16
“Fuck,” Honor muttered, “Just how many of them are there?”
“Only one way to find out,” came Noah’s voice farther down the corridor. Noah had wandered ahead, glancing around him for any more giants. They had been all over the place earlier but now it seemed like they were all gone. Had they run away?
Something moved in the corner of his eye; Noah turning his head to catch a glimpse of it. Sprawling behind him was empty space. Honor was no where in sight. It’s okay, he told himself. I can do this.
A little voice in his head said, maybe they got Honor. He can’t see them afterall. That thought sent a chill up Noah’s spine, his upper lip breaking out in a nervous sweat. Oh god. No way.
In the corner of hs eye again, a fast moving blur. But this time Noah could distinctly make out the color black. Slowly turning, the edges of a black giant came into view. Noah couldn’t find the strength to run, especially when he had turned around completely and looked up and up and up into the giant’s face.
Oh. Shit.
The giant gave a deep groan, exhaling tobacco smoke from his lips and nostrils. Noah’s reflex to cough nearly overpowered him but he forced himself to stay still. No sudden movements.
“Hit the fucking ground!”
Noah dove for the floor as fast as he could. Honor was standing behind him, unloading round after round into the giant. The giant was knocked back a step with each shot until its chest was riddled with empty smoking holes. With a long groan, it fell backwards on to the floor.
Noah stood up, surveying the mess on his face and clothes. He was covered in dark red blood. His face was twisted in several shades of disgust. “Oh, fuck.”
Honor grinned at him, propping his shotgun against his shoulder. Like some fucking action hero, Noah added bitterly. “I should have told you not to wander off on your--”
“Fuck! Behind you!”
Honor couldn’t duck in time. The moment he turned his head, a giant fist came flying into his gut. The force of it loosened Honor’s hold on his shotgun and he was propeled across the corridor into a glass display, breaking glass and knocking mannequins over. His shotgun had slid across the corridor floor several feet from Noah.
Noah’s eyes instantly saw the blood coating sharp edges of glass. Panic welled in the pit of his stomach. He had to get the shotgun. He bolted across the floor, arm stretched for it. The air around him barely whistled when another fist came his way and it was fast reflexes that saved him from a sure head crush. He rolled the opposite way just in time for a reprisal and then another and then another.
Perhaps if he tried to get that thing far from the shotgun he’d be able to snatch it off the ground. He ducked another punch and jumped over a kick to reach for the shotgun again.
Noah knews the rules of size. The bigger the body, the slower it should move. But Noah isn’t quite sure how that rule could apply to these things that moved faster than he could see. He’s not even quite sure how he was managing so far, dodging huge hands and feet. But he knows he’s lost when he distinctly sees a heavy black foot plant itself on the shotgun and a huge fist lashing out to strike.
When the blow connects with his body, he feels himself being propelled several feet before he even registered the pain. His body made a dull thud when it hit the glass railing, a dull note resounding when his head hit the metal frame. His mind swam for a few seconds. When he looked up, his unfocused eyes saw 3 approaching black blurs.
Satisfied with this, the giant turned back to Honor. Where the man had been lying, dazed and confused among display items, there was only an empty space. There was a sharp pain and it was poignantly aware that a blade had just been wedged between its eyes.
“Fucking beast,” came a voice, perhaps too close. There was a quick turn of the blade and that was it. Whatever brain there was in that skull was sliced right in the middle. The black giant fell to the ground. Honor was standing just an inch from where the giant had been, breathing heavily, an arm around his chest (it might just be a bruised rib if he was lucky, or internal hemorrhaging), a silver dagger in his other hand. There was barely an inch of flesh that wasn’t covered in blood. He kicked the giant’s’s foot off his shotgun, sheathing his dagger in the process, and picked the shotgun up.
Noah’s focus returned in full force when he heard three distinct gun shots ring out. The blurs fell to the ground. Footsteps coming closer to him and Honor’s voice: “You okay, kid?”
The retort came automatically from Noah’s mouth. “I thought I told you to stop calling me that.” All he received for his trouble was a laugh. A strong hand gripped him by the arm and hauled him bodily to stand. “Yeah, you’ll live.” Metal was cold against Noah’s palm as Honor slapped a gun into his hand. “Now. Stop whining.”
Noah had to blink several times just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. There was too much blood. Honor was cut everywhere yet there he was, standing tall as if he hadn’t been smashed through a display window. It barely even occured to him that he was holding a gun in one of his own hands. “Are you okay?”
Honor had the gall to shrug although it was quite obvious that it pained him. He shifted the shotgun into his left hand instead. “Only a flesh wound. This time you lead, okay.”
Having a gun meant that Noah had to squeeze the trigger. He no longer has to point out every single giant to Honor, which was more frightening than he imagined. Honor followed closely behind, dripping a trail of blood as he limped. Noah grit his teeth, trying not to drag Honor out the door to wrap those wounds up. This has to wrap up quickly then.
The giants are sneakier this time around, hiding in the shadows and behind corners. They relied heavily on the element of surprise, giving them an easier shot at Noah and Honor’s vital parts. The first time Noah fired the gun, it was purely by accident. A giant lunged from its hiding place between the fruit shake stand and the hotdog stand (although, Noah would like to comment, it wasn’t a very effective hiding place, he could see it across the floor). Moving too fast, Noah panicked and squeezed the trigger.
The gun went off as expected but the bullet buried itself in the giant’s foot. It gave a low howl, staggering back in pain. Honor blew its head clean off, various chunks of head meat flying in several directions, right before Noah could land a second shot.
“Not bad,” Honor whispered into Noah’s ear, genuinely impressed. “Next time, try to aim higher.”
Noah stared at the body, its fingers still twitching a bit until those tremors died away. “O-okay,” he managed to whisper. Honor had to give him a firm shove to the shoulder for Noah to start walking again. The next time he pulled the trigger, his aim is much better. A shallow smoking hole appears on the giant’s chest and despite its terrifying speed and strength, it was relatively dumb. It looked down to see the wound and never anticipated another bullet straight into its head.
The muzzle of the gun was painted in blood where Noah had pressed it against the giant’s head, right among its unruly curls. Honor gave an appreciative whistle. Noah doesn’t bother to talk back at hime or to boast. He continued onwards, eyes peeled for any trace of black, until his ears are ringing with the sounds of gunshots.
Nearly two hours later, everything was silent. Noah tried to collect himself, eyes trained on the unmoving body of the giants. They were scattered everywhere he could see, big red puddles around their heads like a corona. Noah’s hands shook so bad that the gun made the barest of rattling noises.
His knees almost gave way when Honor clamped a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, “Let’s get out of here.”
Noah had never been more obedient in his entire life. He followed Honor out the employees’ exit, walking a path so vague that he had to brace himself against the wall. Ahead of him, Honor already threw open the exit door.
The afternoon sun stung his eyes worse than it should. He clamped his eyes shut, turning away from it. Honor had to grab his hand, his large fingers around the gun as well, and tugged Noah after him. As they sprinted across the parking lot , towards Honor’s SUV, the sounds of sirens carried over the breeze.
The last few steps to the SUV, Honor had to stop and catch his breath. Noah couldn’t help but slow down to check on him. His wounds hadn’t stopped bleeding and the parking lot undoubtedly had a trail of blood drops. So much for a clean escape. And of course there would be security cameras inside. The best they could do was to get out of there as quick as they could. Casting a glance at Honor’s right arm, Noah could see that it was no longer on speaking terms with Honor; it was hanging limply at his side.
“Hey,” Noah whispered, “You can’t possibly drive like that. Your arm looks pretty bad.”
Honor gave a dry laugh. “It’s fucked, is what it is. So what do you propose we do?”
“I’ll drive.”
This time, Honor’s laugh was genuine. “You’re, how old, fifteen?” As a counterpoint to his words, he was already fishing out his car keys from his back pocket. “Well, whatever. Let’s just get the hell out of here.”
They managed to pull out of the parking lot just as police cars arrived. Noah couldn’t stop himself from thinking, Well, now I’m fucked too.