Post by Steve on Dec 4, 2014 4:51:21 GMT
It was a warm, sunny day when the object was first sighted. It was artificial, definitely no meteorite, and was fast approaching the Earth's atmosphere. The Human military had taken note of the object, but spaceships going in for a landing on Earth was a common enough sight these days that it didn't garner any attention. However, that was before its signal was checked and it was identified as the personal escape pod of the Warden from the maximum-security orbital prison. They had received a brief message from the facility a few days earlier, speaking of a prison break. They sent message after message to the pod, to no avail. Whoever was inside didn't feel like talking. The military had been faced with a difficult choice. The pod could have contained a survivor of the prison riot, or it could have been one of the prisoners. Every single prisoner inside that facility was extremely dangerous, and so the decision was reached that they would intercept and destroy the pod just as it entered the lower atmosphere. If only they had known the consequences of their actions..
Steve was jerked awake by blaring sirens and flashing lights. As he groggily looked around the pod, he noticed a few holes that hadn't been there before, but all thoughts of the pod fled from his mind as he noticed the daylight streaming in through the holes. He had made it! Home, sweet home. He was about to say something foreboding when he was suddenly treated to a loud series of thudding noises coming from outside the ship. He felt a small impact on his chest and reached down his shirt to fish out.. a bullet? Someone was shooting at him! A little giggle slithered from Steve's lips as he leaned into the window, looking for his new friend. Then, he saw it! An Earth aircraft streaked past, smoke-trailing missiles following in its wake. Steve jerked the controls to one side and watched as the missiles barely missed him. Getting an idea, Steve kicked out at the emergency door-handle, popping the hatch and nearly ripping Steve out of his seat as the howling wind outside suddenly came inside as well. Leaning out of the doorway, Steve watched as the plane began to come around for another pass. Then, releasing his seatbelt, Steve tensed for a moment and then leapt out into nothingness, falling briefly before feeling the crushing impact the front of a plane slamming into him at supersonic speeds. Bullseye. He wrenched his head upwards, looking into the cockpit and seeing the shocked look in the pilot's eyes. Grunting with effort, Steve began to claw his way up the surface of the plane as the pilot began to turn wildly, trying to shake him off. Unfazed, Steve wrenched himself up over the cockpit and raised a fist. Bringing it down on the tough glass of the cockpit, he smiled with grim satisfaction as he saw the crack he had made in the surface. Maybe he wasn't as rusty as he had thought. Punching the cockpit again, he felt it give and suddenly the pilot found himself being grabbed by the collar and pulled back, slamming his head into the glass and knocking him out cold. Steve fumbled for a moment with the latch inside the cockpit as the plane began to veer downwards. The latch released, the cockpit was thrown open and Steve pulled the pilot out of his seat, letting him be taken by the wind and falling to his probable death. Pulling himself into the seat, Steve was about to pull up when he noticed where the crashing plane was headed. Maybe he wouldn't save the plane..
The air traffic control team in the small, rural air-base was having some trouble contacting their pilot. He was coming in for a hard landing, his target still intact. Their curiosity turned to apprehension when they looked at the craft more closely through the binoculars. "Is that... is that a person on top of it?" one said. "Is he surfing the plane?" asked another, voice full of wonder. Then, they realized that the plane wasn't landing. It was crashing.
Steve shifted his weight slightly as the plane began to spiral down into a nosedive. His feet had been shoved, up to the ankles, into the fuselage of the plane, anchoring him into place. "Surf's up!" he yelled with glee, the sound of his voice stolen by the howling wind. As he watched the ground grow closer, Steve began to feel a gleeful warmth spreading across his body. A comforting feeling, as if he had just come home after a long time away. Cackling silently into the wind, Steve watched with anticipation as the runway grew larger and larger in his view. The nose of the plane impacted the paved ground with a crunch and began skidding across the runway. Mechanics bolted out of the way as the crashed plane slammed into a parked one, still attached to the refueling truck. The whole thing went up in a great gout of flame as the fuel ignited, blowing a good half of the runway to smithereens. Armed soldiers crowded around the perimeter of the firestorm as the alarms went up, and the whole of the base went into high alert. Suddenly, Steve emerged from the flames, prison jumpsuit afire and a crazed grin on his face. Quickly grabbing a piece of pipe-shaped metal debris, he hurled it at the nearest soldier, spearing the poor guy through the chest and sending him sprawling to the ground. The other soldiers opened fire, tearing up Steve's clothes as he continued to advance unfazed. Abruptly dashing forwards, Steve took a soldier's head in one hand and lifted him off of the ground, then slammed him back down into the concrete head-first. Still holding him by the head, Steve planted a foot on the man's chest and pulled, tearing the man's head from his body. Steve then proceeded to bludgeon one of the other soldiers to death with the severed head, forcing him to the ground and pulping his face under the repeated blows. Discarding the shattered remnants of the soldier's head and helmet, Steve turned his attention to the two men still firing at him. Steve leapt forward, planting his fist in the middle of one's chest. The shock of the impact reverberated up his arm as the soldier's ribs buckled and jammed into his lungs. Leaving the man lying on the ground gurgling weakly as he choked on his own blood, Steve turned his blood-flecked face up towards the last aggressor, a manic cackle bursting forth from his lips. As he began to advance, the soldier threw down his empty weapon and ran the other way. Steve's laughter died as his face turned suddenly serious, and he said in a low, almost whispering voice "Do you know the punishment for desertion, soldier?" Steve picked up the fallen weapon of one of the dead soldiers, aimed, and let loose a round into the back of the soldier's knee. As the man tumbled to the ground, Steve discarded the gun and began walking menacingly towards the soldier, now desperately crawling away. "I don't think you do." Steve grabbed the back of the man's shirt, lifting him into the air and bringing him face-to-face with Steve. Locking eyes with the soldier, Steve whispered "The punishment is death, friend. Do you want to die?" into his ear, his face like stone as he watched the fear in the soldier's eyes turn to panic, and he began blubbering. "P-puh, please.. I don't-" he managed to choke out before Steve placed a hand over his mouth. "Shhh. Shh, it's alright. Shush now... and sleep." the hand began to glow with energy and the man's struggling intensified, his muffled cries growing ever more frantic. "Goodnight, sweet prince." Steve said, his ki blast blowing away the top half of the soldier's head, leaving only his lower jaw. Dropping the corpse, Steve began to whistle a sad tune as he stuck his hands in what was left of his pockets and walked away from the carnage.
Hours later, when the men in the control tower finally dared to leave their hiding place, they found only corpses and ashes. They deserted on the spot.
[1390 Words]
Steve was jerked awake by blaring sirens and flashing lights. As he groggily looked around the pod, he noticed a few holes that hadn't been there before, but all thoughts of the pod fled from his mind as he noticed the daylight streaming in through the holes. He had made it! Home, sweet home. He was about to say something foreboding when he was suddenly treated to a loud series of thudding noises coming from outside the ship. He felt a small impact on his chest and reached down his shirt to fish out.. a bullet? Someone was shooting at him! A little giggle slithered from Steve's lips as he leaned into the window, looking for his new friend. Then, he saw it! An Earth aircraft streaked past, smoke-trailing missiles following in its wake. Steve jerked the controls to one side and watched as the missiles barely missed him. Getting an idea, Steve kicked out at the emergency door-handle, popping the hatch and nearly ripping Steve out of his seat as the howling wind outside suddenly came inside as well. Leaning out of the doorway, Steve watched as the plane began to come around for another pass. Then, releasing his seatbelt, Steve tensed for a moment and then leapt out into nothingness, falling briefly before feeling the crushing impact the front of a plane slamming into him at supersonic speeds. Bullseye. He wrenched his head upwards, looking into the cockpit and seeing the shocked look in the pilot's eyes. Grunting with effort, Steve began to claw his way up the surface of the plane as the pilot began to turn wildly, trying to shake him off. Unfazed, Steve wrenched himself up over the cockpit and raised a fist. Bringing it down on the tough glass of the cockpit, he smiled with grim satisfaction as he saw the crack he had made in the surface. Maybe he wasn't as rusty as he had thought. Punching the cockpit again, he felt it give and suddenly the pilot found himself being grabbed by the collar and pulled back, slamming his head into the glass and knocking him out cold. Steve fumbled for a moment with the latch inside the cockpit as the plane began to veer downwards. The latch released, the cockpit was thrown open and Steve pulled the pilot out of his seat, letting him be taken by the wind and falling to his probable death. Pulling himself into the seat, Steve was about to pull up when he noticed where the crashing plane was headed. Maybe he wouldn't save the plane..
The air traffic control team in the small, rural air-base was having some trouble contacting their pilot. He was coming in for a hard landing, his target still intact. Their curiosity turned to apprehension when they looked at the craft more closely through the binoculars. "Is that... is that a person on top of it?" one said. "Is he surfing the plane?" asked another, voice full of wonder. Then, they realized that the plane wasn't landing. It was crashing.
Steve shifted his weight slightly as the plane began to spiral down into a nosedive. His feet had been shoved, up to the ankles, into the fuselage of the plane, anchoring him into place. "Surf's up!" he yelled with glee, the sound of his voice stolen by the howling wind. As he watched the ground grow closer, Steve began to feel a gleeful warmth spreading across his body. A comforting feeling, as if he had just come home after a long time away. Cackling silently into the wind, Steve watched with anticipation as the runway grew larger and larger in his view. The nose of the plane impacted the paved ground with a crunch and began skidding across the runway. Mechanics bolted out of the way as the crashed plane slammed into a parked one, still attached to the refueling truck. The whole thing went up in a great gout of flame as the fuel ignited, blowing a good half of the runway to smithereens. Armed soldiers crowded around the perimeter of the firestorm as the alarms went up, and the whole of the base went into high alert. Suddenly, Steve emerged from the flames, prison jumpsuit afire and a crazed grin on his face. Quickly grabbing a piece of pipe-shaped metal debris, he hurled it at the nearest soldier, spearing the poor guy through the chest and sending him sprawling to the ground. The other soldiers opened fire, tearing up Steve's clothes as he continued to advance unfazed. Abruptly dashing forwards, Steve took a soldier's head in one hand and lifted him off of the ground, then slammed him back down into the concrete head-first. Still holding him by the head, Steve planted a foot on the man's chest and pulled, tearing the man's head from his body. Steve then proceeded to bludgeon one of the other soldiers to death with the severed head, forcing him to the ground and pulping his face under the repeated blows. Discarding the shattered remnants of the soldier's head and helmet, Steve turned his attention to the two men still firing at him. Steve leapt forward, planting his fist in the middle of one's chest. The shock of the impact reverberated up his arm as the soldier's ribs buckled and jammed into his lungs. Leaving the man lying on the ground gurgling weakly as he choked on his own blood, Steve turned his blood-flecked face up towards the last aggressor, a manic cackle bursting forth from his lips. As he began to advance, the soldier threw down his empty weapon and ran the other way. Steve's laughter died as his face turned suddenly serious, and he said in a low, almost whispering voice "Do you know the punishment for desertion, soldier?" Steve picked up the fallen weapon of one of the dead soldiers, aimed, and let loose a round into the back of the soldier's knee. As the man tumbled to the ground, Steve discarded the gun and began walking menacingly towards the soldier, now desperately crawling away. "I don't think you do." Steve grabbed the back of the man's shirt, lifting him into the air and bringing him face-to-face with Steve. Locking eyes with the soldier, Steve whispered "The punishment is death, friend. Do you want to die?" into his ear, his face like stone as he watched the fear in the soldier's eyes turn to panic, and he began blubbering. "P-puh, please.. I don't-" he managed to choke out before Steve placed a hand over his mouth. "Shhh. Shh, it's alright. Shush now... and sleep." the hand began to glow with energy and the man's struggling intensified, his muffled cries growing ever more frantic. "Goodnight, sweet prince." Steve said, his ki blast blowing away the top half of the soldier's head, leaving only his lower jaw. Dropping the corpse, Steve began to whistle a sad tune as he stuck his hands in what was left of his pockets and walked away from the carnage.
Hours later, when the men in the control tower finally dared to leave their hiding place, they found only corpses and ashes. They deserted on the spot.
[1390 Words]