First Blood
Darkness. All was darkness, pressing in on him, pinning him down, threatening to suffocate and smother. What had happened? How did he get here? He had to think back. Had to remember.
Halloween. Of course. What should have been a night of fun and revelry had once again been torn asunder by malevolent forces beyond their control. The toys. The toys. Fortunately, Felix had already been dressed for combat that night, with a muscle shirt, khakis, and a variety of decorative armaments serving as a fun little costume for the holiday. When chaos had broken out, however, he'd had to upgrade, retiring to the place he knew best (the kitchen, of course) to get rid of all the non-essentials and arm himself properly, an old dishtowel tied hastily around his forehead to keep the sweat out of his eyes.
After that, it was game on. He didn't really remember the rest of the night, truth be told, all of it seeming to have passed in a hazy blur of adrenaline, violence, and terrifying dolls. All that mattered was he'd made it through, and all without backing down or retreating from the terrifying hordes.
He had to get up. He had to live! When opening his eyes did nothing to clarify his position, he slowly, so slowly, took inventory of his surroundings, moving one part of his body at a time. Wherever he was, he was pretty good and stuck. Still, after what felt like an eternity of patiently marshaling his strength, he forced himself to move, pushing himself upward with a loud, feral cry and bursting forth from the massive pile of fuzzy, colorful corpses he'd somehow managed to become buried under in a fabulous explosion of button eyes and cotton stuffing.
Panting hard, knives flashing in the early afternoon sunlight (he'd missed his morning classes, he suddenly realized with dismay, though this thought was quickly pushed aside by all the surging testosterone), battered and bruised and just a little bit bloodied, Felix whirled around when he heard a noise behind him, his hearing sharp now that the world wasn't muffled by stuffed animals.
"Who wants some?!"
[If you need help with the visual, think this guy only... Felix Unger carrying kitchen knives. :D]
Halloween. Of course. What should have been a night of fun and revelry had once again been torn asunder by malevolent forces beyond their control. The toys. The toys. Fortunately, Felix had already been dressed for combat that night, with a muscle shirt, khakis, and a variety of decorative armaments serving as a fun little costume for the holiday. When chaos had broken out, however, he'd had to upgrade, retiring to the place he knew best (the kitchen, of course) to get rid of all the non-essentials and arm himself properly, an old dishtowel tied hastily around his forehead to keep the sweat out of his eyes.
After that, it was game on. He didn't really remember the rest of the night, truth be told, all of it seeming to have passed in a hazy blur of adrenaline, violence, and terrifying dolls. All that mattered was he'd made it through, and all without backing down or retreating from the terrifying hordes.
He had to get up. He had to live! When opening his eyes did nothing to clarify his position, he slowly, so slowly, took inventory of his surroundings, moving one part of his body at a time. Wherever he was, he was pretty good and stuck. Still, after what felt like an eternity of patiently marshaling his strength, he forced himself to move, pushing himself upward with a loud, feral cry and bursting forth from the massive pile of fuzzy, colorful corpses he'd somehow managed to become buried under in a fabulous explosion of button eyes and cotton stuffing.
Panting hard, knives flashing in the early afternoon sunlight (he'd missed his morning classes, he suddenly realized with dismay, though this thought was quickly pushed aside by all the surging testosterone), battered and bruised and just a little bit bloodied, Felix whirled around when he heard a noise behind him, his hearing sharp now that the world wasn't muffled by stuffed animals.
"Who wants some?!"
[If you need help with the visual, think this guy only... Felix Unger carrying kitchen knives. :D]
