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Ruthless Instinct

Shadow Rose

Copyright 2019 Shadow Rose

Smashwords Edition

License Notes

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work of this author.

Chapter 1

Freeway Or The Highway?

"Get down!" He shouted to the security guard.

"Oh shit!" The guard panicked from the sheer sight of him. But instead of doing what he said, the man took out a 92FS from his holster ready to kill.

BANG! One shot was fired from the barrel of his M16. Crimson red splashed right out of the guard's head like fruit punch pouring down from a jug. My heart raced from seeing yet another innocent man die because of the bullshit he came up with. PURK! His well-built body slammed onto the concrete road, laying right over the skid marks of the armored truck that held our score.

"Damnit, Finch!" I yelled my friend's name, "Ya didn't have to shoot'im!"

Finch, clad in full black armor (a gift from our crewmate Slayer) and skull-pained mask, proceeded to walk up to the door.

"Hey!" He responded with slight excitement in his voice, "You never know! He coulda shotchya!"

I headed to the back of the truck to help Finch, "I think I can take a nine-millimeter any day."

"Whatever you say, Finch."

F put one hand on the handle of the left door, while I did the same with the right one. Together, KA-CLICK! CREEEEE...We simultaneously pulled the doors wide open for us and the rest of the Crew to see; Two shivering personnel cowering next to a pile of 4 big, green crates. We found it, I thought to myself. Just the weapons we need to keep us going, well...Finch mostly. Having known what my friend would do to them if he decided to get the cargo himself, I became the first to climb up inside.

"Stay put." I took my finger off the trigger of my gun to point down at the two workers, "And shut up!"

The two crouched in silence, one nodded in compliance. I couldn't blame them for not saying anything. Finch's presence will do that to a lot of people.

Finch chuckled maniacally as I approached the rectangular crates, snatching the side handle of the very top one. With all my strength, I pulled it all the way out of the pile, KA-KLUNK! The entire thing plummeted to the ground, thankfully not hitting my feet.

"Let's see it!" He said while he stood outside.

"Not right this minute!" I rejected his suggestion as we just stopped the entire flow of a highway just to rob a single military-grade truck, "Cops'll be here any minute! We gotta at least pack this stuff up before they come!" My head turned as far as it could to face the outside, "Slayer, get over here!" I begun dragging the crate all the way to the edge of the back.

"Damnit, Slayer!" I had to repeat myself to get his attention, "We ain't got time fer yer bullshit!"

"Uhh...guys?" Said Slayer from the ground, "We got company!"

My head turned to the outside again, eyes darted to the sight of three black and white police vehicles coming up on the highway.

"Shit!" I shouted to myself, taking my hand off the handle to reach my gun, "They knew we were gonna do!"

"I told you this was a bad idea!" Slayer pointed up at me as I started to climb down the truck.

"Really?" An eyebrow cocked from his remark, "So robbing vehicles from freeways aren't thrilling enough fer you? Now that's something."

"Hey, fuck you, man! Finch! What're yer thoughts?"

Finch cocked his AR, preparing himself for the Hell we were about to face, "Well, we could just kill our way outta this!" I could see him gesture an order to JM, who soon backflipped over the side railings of the highway. All I then saw of him were two hands hanging on to stay in cover.

Slay and I looked at one another. Since I couldn't see what face he was making to express his contempt for me, I walked off to join Finch, who was all too eager to add more to his kill list, one of the many things with numbers difficult to pinpoint.

"You ready?" I asked him despite knowing the answer.

"Let's make this novel interesting!" He said in response, earning a roll of my eyes. Another statistic to lose count of...his insanity remarks.

Taking a deep breath of preparation, the three cop cars pulled up in between the two ramps connected to the highway we stood on, forming a nice, little blockade. Fuck. I briefly turned behind to see if there was a way out through the other direction. Nope, just a big-ass pile of thrashed-to-shit cars toppled on top of each other, all done by yours truly...Finch, not me. The only way out was through the police cars, thankfully our cars were parked in the same area so...there wasn't gonna be much to stop us.

"Freeze, motherfuckers!" One of the officers yelled from the distance.

"Don't fucking move, Crewmen!" His buddy yelled as he hid behind the side of his patrol car not facing us.

BABABABABAB! A stream of rounds had already been fired at the cops, done by Finch of course. From where I held my position, I could witness one of the cops collapsing to the ground as blood splashed onto the white-painted hood of his respective vehicle. BLAM! BANG! POP! BANG! The present authorities unleashed their lead-filled fury our way. Oh fuck. I quickly jumped to the side to take cover behind some Dodge Charger while Finch, Slayer, and the others began firing, PAPAPAPAPAP! BABABABABAB! RATATATATATAT! My friends decided to unleash their own Hell at them. *Sigh*...So much for a clean getaway, and we didn't even manage to steal one crate!

"Hey!" Finch spoke during the massive exchange of bullets, "You're missin all the fun!"

PAP-PAP-PAP! I managed to pick off one cop.

"I'm doin just fine, Finch!" I jumped over the trunk of the car, "Can you at least push those cars outta the way?" I ran up to the door of the Charger, opening it up, "I'm gonna get us a way outta here! Brickhead, Ice-Blade, find another vehicle so we can all leave!"

Brickhead, Ice-Blade, and the others save for Finch and Slayer took off from the fight and headed to my side to get their own car to drive off in. I meanwhile, entered the Charger to get it running. As I was inside, I quickly began looking for the wires as time was money. P-KISH! P-KISH! Two splashes of glass rained down on my face as two bullets somehow managed to find their way to the side of the road.

"Damn you, Finch!" I said his name in frustration as I looked around the interior, abandoning my desire to hotwire the vehicle. My skills on that topic was rusty anyways. As I finally looked down on the cup-holders between the driver and passenger seats, "Voila!" My fortunes were high as there laid the keys in one of the holders, but as I instantly inserted them into the ignition, I wondered: Why the hell are these not in the ignition? And what's that damn smell?

TINK-TINK-TINK-TINK-TINK! Several more rounds went into the car.

"Shit!"

Having wondered what my maniac friends were up to while I was busy providing them an escape, my eyes raised to see Finch jumping onto a cop car via ninja flip. BAPAPAPAPAP! BAPAPAPAP! I saw fire his M16 at two unfortunate officers, blasting away with their teeny pistols from the hood. Those two went down like a couple of drunk idiots, except in this case...they're dead. Slayer on the other hand kept firing from a small distance away from the cars. Sighing out of contempt for those two, I turned the keys, CLICK! I stamped down on the accelerator, VROOOOOOM! A similar noise went off from the muscle car in front of mine. Ready.

SCREEEEEEEE! I was the first to take off from the side of the highway, making one stop on the broken roadblock. "Get in!" I yelled at the two lunatics as they were busy finishing off the rest of the first-responders. Thankfully, they were still rational enough to jump inside at a dire time, along with Slayer putting his boot in my face as he crawled into the backseat. "Watch it, goddamnit!"

Once we were all aboard, I took the left ramp down the freeway below, leaving the heist site without the score. Damn you, Finch. Just had to take the action-packed route instead of just...ambushing them in a warehouse or military base somewhere? Well, I guess when it comes to people like him you don't have a choice but to participate...you do get to bitch and moan though.

I sped through the freeway, going 70 miles-per-hour, trying get the hell away from the truck as far as possible. You know SWAT teams were gonna come at any moment, and once they found out that we were the ones who pulled the robbery, the entire city was not gonna show mercy to any of us, especially not Finch Ferris...

Chapter 2

Hell of an Entrance

Finch Ferris

"There he is!" Some prick yelled from the toll booth, "That's him!"

Another guy who stood by the booth turned to me, bearing amateur militia gear, "Holy shit!" He yelled, "That is him!"

"Hi!" I greeted from my Urban Kommando, my super-awesome car, "How much to get into the city?"

"Fuck you!" The guy inside the toll booth pulled out what seemed to be an M14 rifle...good gun. BAM-BAM-BAM! Three rounds came flying into the armored plate protecting my windshield from bullets, and assholes like him!

"Is that how ya greet newcomers!? Show a little love fer yer common man!" I shouted from the inside, scouring all over the place for a gun. Luckily, in the fun heat of the moment, I managed to find in a matter of seconds my trusty M16A4 from the backseat, cocked and loaded...hehehe...Cocked and Loaded! Once I had my summer love in my hands, I quickly jumped out of the car gave those two cocksuckers an American greeting.

BABABABABAB! I fired a river of bullets at the toll booth, filling the glass protecting the cowardly asshole inside with more holes than a fuckable woman!

"Fuck! Fuck!" The said asshole yelled from inside his little tomb.

BUM-BAM-BUM! The outside prick took 3 more shots at me, hitting my spleen, pelvis, and knee. BABAB! I only needed two bullets to his chest to send his scrawny ass to the ground. TATATATATAT! Ahhhh, now the toll booth prick had an MP5k in his possession! Who the hell keeps that shit in those things!? I mean, I keep guns everywhere, but why that prick in particular has an SMG inside his masturbation zone is anyone's guess. Probably to shoot outsiders like me! What the hell did I do to them!?

"Hey!" I shouted at whom I'll now call Toll Booth Prick as I started running toward him, "Have some respect for newcomers!"

As I approached the dick-jerk zone, I tossed my M16 to the side, figuring I can kick TBP's ass with my bare hands. "Hey, asshole!" I said to the prick as he cowered under a chair holding his MP5 as if all that was gonna save him from an outsider trying to be friendly! He should learn some fucking manners! KRISH! I reached inside the booth using my shooting arm, smashing all the glass from just the one window, snatching the cloth of TBP's shirt collar. I yanked that motherfucker outta there like helping a woman give birth! Get it? I meant pulling a baby out of a lady's vagina!

"Let go, freak!" His arms flailed around like a feisty child.

"Okay!"

Without telling the idiot, I immediately slammed his whole body onto the concrete. KRCK! KRCK! A series of snaps went off from the man's motionless ass as he laid on the ground. SPLISH! A tiny stream of blood shot all the way up inside my mouth as if he was some office worker jacking off in his desk, and just as he was ready to climax, his boss shows up, only to get a nice white splash on his thigh! These things happen, but hey, gotta do what ya gotta do to get through the day, eh?

"Mm!" My taste buds took in the blood, "Delicious!"

Seeing as there was nothing but pure silence in the area, I looked back at my Urban Kommando to admire the view. Man, was she a dream! This beauty helped me get out of so many sticky situations these past two weeks! Encounters with the cops, awesome thefts of contraband, and the occasional attempted muggings on my life. But wait! My car wasn't the only vehicle in the area. To the right of the guard post, a big-ass packer truck was stationed on the side of the road. Gee, I wonder what's in there? Guns? Drugs? A dead hooker? I skipped all the way to the back of the truck. Grabbing the steel handles, KR-KRINK! I pulled both doors open with just my bare hands. And what to you know? They had a whole fucking command center going on inside a damn packer truck! Awesome! If only the Crew had this!

I quickly climbed inside the truck. Who knows? Maybe I might find any of those three things I listed in the paragraph before! I need more shit anyways! The dead hooker on the other hand...eesh. But man, was this place bright as Hell! The sterile white walls and ceilings didn't really help either! But hey, at least there were a couple crates lying about on one side of the inside, exposed I might add.

"Oh, boy!" I skipped like a little girl all the way to the crates, gazing deep into the fresh box that contained all kinds of goodies! M4s, AKs, MP5s, hell, even a couple RPG-7s! I was in heaven, baby! These will be fine for the trunk! I lost all my other shit two weeks ago anyway. I instantly checked the other one, which had nothing but pure drugs! Coke, marijuana, some heroin, and the best of'em all: Meth! Man, these motherfuckers had everything! I had to know their suppliers!

Some shuffling went off further inside the truck. I took my eyes away from the awesome shit to see what happened. Was it another of those pricks? A smuggled tiger waiting to be some guy's pet? The dead hooker? All in one place? I walked over to the far end of the interior, approaching a single white Rudyr in the far-right corner, CREEEE...the door opens, and KA-KLUNK! Somebody crashed his ass onto the hard floor, and then came a dog P-PIP! That's the sound of a dog falling right on top of a human.

"Aw, shit." I could hear the man grunt in agony as the dog had already started to crawl off of him.

And there I saw him, a poor bastard of average build lying on the floor like he just passed out outside of a bar (just like some of my nights!). I couldn't see his face as he was laid on his stomach. All I knew was that he was a white male with brown, Marine-style hair with shaved sides. But...it wasn't like I gave a shit. I mean, c'mon! A fucking dog! Screw providing filler narrative, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"Hey!" I walked up to the dog, "Now where did you come from?" I checked the red collar wrapped around his neck, specifically the bronze label in front of his throat, "Hm...Rudy. I like it!" I stood in front of Rudy and took two pats to my knee, "C'mon, boy! Let's go find a home!"

"Help me up, damnit..." Muttered the guy on the floor.

"Hey, no whining!"

KA-KLUNK! The same sound went off from the far end. No, it wasn't another sea animal or one of those militia douchebags, it was that same guy who only just started to get his sorry ass up, only to collapse on his knees. Man, what a pussy! I'm not even sure killing him was gonna be worth it! I mean, he had the same outfit as his buddies I killed outside but he could barely walk! So I figured: Eh, let him go! While Rudy made his way to the back, I headed over to the crates and grabbed a couple guns and snatched some various drugs for the poor bastard.

"Here ya go!" I tossed the guns and drugs to the tired militiaman, "For yer troubles!"

Having felt my job was done, I walked back to the truck's opening, where Rudy was waiting over the edge. "Lemme help ya there, buddy!" I wrapped my arms around the dog, lifting his ass up to carry him as I leaped off the truck, slamming my boots on the dirt. I headed over to my car with excitement over getting a new pet and dealing with those pricks at the entrance. I could now enter the city with no more troubles!

I opened the passenger door of my Urban Kommando, "C'mon, boy! Get in!"

The dog, already showing to be a cooperative pet, climbed right inside. As I shut the door, I ninja jumped over the hood and got into the driver side and started up the car. VROOM-VROOM! Finally, we were on our way to the city, with our new-...aw, fuck! I didn't take the weapons nor the fucking drugs! Damnit! Shit, shit, shit! Now where the hell am I gonna get some cool guns!? These gun stores'll probably be selling some stock shit, and I needed something with boom! Damn, I...oh...

Oh, sorry! Forgot you were here, reader! I'm Finch Ferris! How the fuck're you?...

Chapter 3

The All-Seeing Eyes

John Phillips

"So how was it last night?" A guy at the desk asked one of the many armed guards.

"Oh, it was fantastic!" The guard answered, standing in front of the desk, "We all had a good time! No break-ins, no leaked photographs, everything went smooth!"

"Damn!" The desk guy expressed surprise, "That's impressive. Especially in this city."

"I know. God, I swear I feel like this whole city's out to get us."

Feeling extremely yucky from being almost smothered by a goddamn dog, I slowly approached the desk as the two were having whatever conversation they were having. As I got close, they both stopped talking to take a good look at me. I couldn't really make out their expressions, probably because they were both wearing gas masks at the time, but I knew how they thought, and I did not care because I was just happy to be alive. Yes, alive, despite having been in that maniac's presence. Good thing that said goddamn dog was there then.

I needed a few breaths before getting a chance to speak, "...Tell Brock I'm ready to see him..."

The desk guy stared up at me, "Sure..." He grabbed his radio, "Yeah, uh, Brock? One of those militia guys is here to see you."

"Send'im in." Said the voice on the other line. I curled my lip over hearing him, knowing he was not gonna be pleased with the news.

I looked over to the guard, who put his hand on my shoulder as he walked past me. With one sigh, I started following him to the elevator, which was already occupied by two drunk ass guard who clearly didn't seem to give a shit about their job. Making it to the bottom-most floor, the two of us made our way to the secret meeting room which was probably already home to a gathering of these...commandos. I gotta admit...they kinda scare me. I signed up with the Sons of Missouri just to find purpose in life, aiding these paramilitary men with crazy-ass weaponry was not one of them.

As the guard opened up the door to the room, I hesitantly went on in as he shut it behind me. I took a deep, silent breath, taking snaps at the "heads" sitting in the rectangular, conference table having an argument. Just by walking in, I already had a good feeling what they were frustrated about due to the screen on the left side displaying footage of that Finch guy killing off my buddies at the city's entrance. I didn't say much at first, mostly because I was staring deep into the camera feed, specifically my tattooed target Finch, just to recall those bright yellow eyes, the weird symbols covering his left arm, and a handsome face that looked as if Ryan Reynolds and Bradley Cooper fucked and had a kid, then toughened him up by dropping him in a warzone...and a scorpion inked on his left cheek.

Finally, one of the guys in the meeting turned to the closed doorway where I stood.

"Hello, militia freak." That same guy spoke up, "What took you so long?"

"...Traffic..." I said, pointing at the TV, "...and that."

Another guy, bearing two scars across his face forming an X, slammed his fists onto the table, "Damnit! Do you have any idea how much of a disaster you created!?"

"Uhh...it was only three of us, sir!" I kept my cool in front of them.

"Exactly! This was Finch motherfucking Ferris! And you, with just your testosterone-fueled might, thought you, just you guys, could kill this maniac!?"

I took a seat closest to the door, "Uhh...you say that like we knew he had all these abilities. You know, abilities that you assholes never told us about? All you told me to take out was a redheaded, white male with yellow eyes and a dragon tattoo!"

"Because there's not much you need to know about him." The guy sitting at the opposite end of the table said, "All you need to know is that he's dangerous, and you must do what we say to ensure his end."

"And why must we kill him?" I had to ask, putting one elbow on the surface to give my head a hand to rest on.

"Because..." A man spoke up as he stood in a dark corner of a room. Not sure why the hell he was there the whole time, maybe because he's been watching too many damn movies. But putting that aside, he begun to turn around, stepping into the lit center of the room. I had the chance to see his raven hair and bright cyan eyes, along with more ear piercings than a short-haired goth girl trying to look cool.

"...this man will be your doom." He glared down at me with gritted teeth, "Because of your moronic antics at the toll booth, he's now in the city doing God-knows-what!"

I moved my seat further into the underside of the table, "Gee...then why don't you do something about it? Why're you paying and giving us weapons to do yer damn dirty work? You seem to know about Finch than what you're letting on."

"Don't get coy with me, John Phillips." The man walked around the table to confront me, "Remember..." Without giving an alert, he grabbed me by the shoulder straps of my Kevlar vest, lifting me up and slamming me right onto the table, "...I can kill you whenever I want, wherever I want. I'm in no mood to deal with some anti-government, militia fanatic bullshit. Know your place, local."

I didn't say a word as he held me onto the table. With the money and weapons he had in store, I had no hesitance in agreeing on the fact that he literally could kill me if he truly wanted, hell, he was doing it at that moment as he put one hand around my damn neck.

"Okay!" I squirmed as he tightened his grip.

Thankfully, he didn't choke me for long as he let go after a few seconds. With his tight grip, and the fangs he had, who the hell knows what else he could've done to me at that point?

"I told you morons to use the special ammo." He commented, taking a step away to pull out a cigarette, "But of course, what do you expect from the Sons of Missouri?"

"Again..." I reluctantly lifted myself off the table, "...Not like we knew he was coming."

"Yeah, whatever." Said the guy rudely while he took his first puff of smoke, "Now, Phillips...get the fuck out of my face. And if you fail me again, I'll have your fucking head."

Not having felt the need to be told twice, I started to head toward the door, "Yeah...okay!" I nodded on the way.

Once I opened the door, I already begun power-walking my way to the elevator, not bothering to shut it behind me. I've known that guy long enough to know, like I said, he'll kill me if he ever wanted. Besides, I needed to get back in touch with my guys back at the compound, start spreading the word from there. If Finch Ferris was in the city and was attacked by us, then everyone was gonna have to be on full alert if the time ever came. All I hoped was that lunatic was doing something else than killing people for the time being...

Chapter 4

Mr. Ferris

Finch Ferris

Oh! Hi there, readers! Good to see you all again! I'm Finch, but I'm sure you've known that by the second chapter, that or decided to skip a page or two because you never brought-...erm...I mean, it's wonderful you're here to read the fourth chapter! You guys are awesome for getting this far! Oh, with me narrating, we're gonna have so much fun!

Well anywho, enough chastising. To uhh...recap what I went through two chapters ago, these fucking pricks tried to kill me by the entrance of the shitty city of Terrace, Missouri (it's fictional so don't bother adding city names next to your porn searches) as if I fucked all their significant others all in the same day! I mean, if they wanted to have sex with me, it would make sense. Who the fuck marries a militia fanatic?

Alright, fine! Well, since I took such a fucking long drive across the state to get away from the authorities, I figured it was time for a break, a hotel break! Skipping some exposition of me driving through the city, I found this kick-ass skyscraper of a hotel, The Kolossus, right in the very heart. You know, the kinda district you'd see is nothing but douchebags in suits thinking they own America and young people following the next trend that'll only last two months. Parking into a handicapped spot, I walked inside the front entrance with Rudy. A nice breeze of cool air blasted into my face, providing a contrast from the moderate temperature outside.

"Heeeyyyyy..." A drunky walked past us, sporting a torn military jacket and a gold chain with 'ATBLM!' etched onto the pendant. THOOM! Something slammed onto the purple carpet. I turned my head to see the said drunk bastard laying right on the floor, still holding his beer which was spilling out like a faucet.

"My dick's bigger than yours!" Some guy boasted while he sat on a blue couch to the left of me.

"Nuh uh!" His apparent circle-jerk homie denied, "Mine's bigger!"

"Oh yeah, bitch!?" The first guy sprang up, standing before his friend as he reached down to his zipper, "Wanna prove it!?"

I approached the front desk, which was occupied by some goth chick sporting a buzzcut.

"Hello!" I kindly greeted the lady, "One of yer finest rooms, please!"

Not a single word came out of her black-lipsticked mouth. The only words she was probably giving out were in the forms of text on her phone.

But lucky for me, she eventually reached into a drawer and pulled out a keycard, raising it into the air for me to grab.

"Thank you!" I smiled in glee before proceeding to walk towards the elevator.

Making it into the elevator, I stood in front of the button pad to check my keycard.

"Hmm...Room 1996. Floor 50."

I instantly pressed 50 after finding out where my room is. Yadda yadda, elevator went up, yadda yadda, Rudy and I walked all the way to one end of the long hall while I scanned every door to every side of me.

"Ah, here we are!" I exclaimed excitedly as I stood before the very door leading to my room, bearing the same four-digit number said on the card.

I inserted the keycard into the slot stationed above the door knob. BEEP! The little red dot next to it switched to green. With curious excitement, I quickly opened the door and power-walked in alongside Rudy, who was probably very tired from our travels. As I headed inside, I gazed across the room in awe. I mean, who couldn't when you got a two-story-sized room complete with a big, round living room that's got a couch, a couple chairs, a single, plasma-screen TV the size of a house installed into the huge window revealing the nearby skyscrapers, three bedrooms on the 2nd floor, and a kitchen already filled with vegan shit? Oh man, if only these places had a gun store I could steal from along with their towels, I'll be set!

"Alright!" I leaped into the couch from the backside, slamming myself right onto the soft, leathery white cushions, "Make yerself at home, Rudy!"

Being the big, cuddly, motherfucker he is, Rudy came crawling all the way up to the couch to snuggle on up in front of me as I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. I wonder what they got in store for me?

"In other news..." A newswoman spoke, giving us a smile faker than a fashion model's tits, "...A murder has been committed at Jaffe Drive no less than two hours. Let's go to Albert Duffy at the crime scene. Duffy?"

"Thank you, Rogers." Said this supposed Albert Duffy as I could see him stand in front of some poor bastard's mansion, which was swarming with cops and some crying people, "Reporting to you live in front of the victim's house, his family-"

"So how did the victim die?" The newswoman interrupted.

"...Well, witnesses report that somebody in a top hat beat him to death with a wine bottle."

"Ooo, wine bottle. I'm sure that happens a lot in Napa, doesn't it?"

The newswoman and reporter both chuckled to no end. At that point, CLICK! I flipped the channel. I wondered what else what the Violence Network had in store for me.

"Coming up at 8, an all-new episode of Melee Layaway! The Bat-Men!" Several shots showed up on screen of random assholes getting smacked in their balls and vaginas by baseball bats, "And don't forget the ass-beating marathon of American Cops, starting Monday till Tuesday!"

"Hmm...maybe later." I changed the channels again.

"Tonight, on Writer's Block, Shadow Rose, a man of mystery, a man of integrity...and a coffee nut?" I saw a photo of the man himself sitting on a table drinking some coffee in front of a Hot Coffee shop, "Next week, Sam Marston...a dog lover? Writer's Block, only on the Hollywood Channel! Yes! We sunk that low! Take that, TMZ!"

Aaaannnnnd the TV's off...

"Well that's shit!" I tossed the remote onto the table before noticing a black, circular module of some kind sitting right in the middle of it, connected to two plugs, one red and the other black, "The hell's that?"

When the remote slammed onto the center of the module, three blue dots popped up at the very center. For the first few seconds, not much else happened, they just stayed lit. But then, the lights started blinking like an alarm was going off.

"Accessing guest info." A mechanical, masculine voice spoke from the thing before going off into silence yet again, "...Guest info process complete. Greetings, Mr. Ferris."

"Hello. I'm Finch." I greeted back at the device, "How the fuck're you?"

"Pleasant, Mr. Ferris." A blue holographic projection of a wireframed man appeared on top of the device, "How may I assist you?"

"Uh, is there a porn channel on the TV?" I asked, scratching my dick, "I'm suddenly horny and I don't plan to go outside anytime soon! The next time I do, it's gonna involve me killing those militia pricks!...Can you tell me where the Sons of Missouri hang out?"

"There are several erm...channels to contribute to human stimulation, but unfortunately, I cannot access information on these Sons of Missouri. The red wire connected to my hub prevents me from acquiring data on those-"

CLICK! I yanked the red plug from the module.

"...Sons of Missouri...A well-armed, superstitious, militia organization dedicated to the cause of Missouri's secession from the United States of America."

"Yeah, uh huh! Where can I kill'em all?"

"Accessing locations of Sons of Missouri hideouts. Location acquired." He said, "I have managed to track down a compound located outside of the city. Approximately 36 members of the militia hide out in this area."

"Alright!" I exclaimed in front of the AI, "Awesome! So what numbers are the porn channels again?" I reached down to my jeans and started unzipping the...zipper.

Alrighty! I got a location of those militia pricks! Now I had the chance to get my sweet revenge and fuck their corpses! Well...for later at least. I was still horny and hell, I'm horny as I narrate! So uhh...I'll see you all in the next chapter! Get some popcorn, some soda, maybe steal some beer if you're underage, read some comic books of...I don't know, some prick in a red jumpsuit jacking off over some other prick in a bat costume! Go read Fifty Shades of Grey or watch some porn-whatever the fuck! Take a damn break!

Chapter 5

36 Militiamen, 21 Minutes of Time

Finch Ferris

Oh, you're back, eh? Did you all refuel on your fat fuck food, alcohol you're probably not allowed to drink, and come back from your senses after alleviating yourself to the latest sex vid? Hope you all have, because I'm gonna tell you some shit that'll give you nightmares! Or, if you're a sick masochist, you might just touch your own naughty parts!

Well anywho, let's get back to it shall we? So...the lovely AI (for some reason built just for hotel use, hope it provides sex tips) just gave me directions to the nearest hideout of those Sons of Missouri pricks! And guess what? I'm gonna kill every last one of them, and YOU, readers, get to know the details! Making use with what guns I stole for the past two weeks of running away from the authorities, I hopped into my Urban Kommando and drove off to the woods yet again, the very place I go for raw animal food and raw hitchhikers. But this time, I didn't go for rabbits, I went to hunt me some militia fucks, well, more or less what I like to call pricks!

"Ah, here we are!" And whaddaya know? I found the compound!

Huddled in the middle of fucking nowhere, there laid a big, flat area surrounded by gates, containing five barracks, a couple huge garages, and a seemingly three-story outpost for all the militia fucks to jack each other off in. Since I wanted to make my introduction a bit more personable, I parked the Kommando by an open entrance, which only had one dumbass guarding the place as if he could use that moment to masturbate in peace.

"Howdy!" I greeted the guy as I held, with one hand, my lucky M16 assault rifle to his face.

BOOM! One shot was enough to kill the bastard.

One down, thirty-five to go! Since it was open for sesame, I walked through the entrance of the compound, just as two more of those militia fucks came my way.

"What the fuck!?" One twitched back.

"Hey, who're you!?" The other cocksucker asked.

"Hi, I'm Finch Ferris!" I answered the rude prick's question, aiming my AR at his head, "How the fuck're you?"

BATATATAT! I sent a stream of bullets at the rude dude as I started charging toward him and his sex buddy...huh, Rude Dude, rhymes. Anywho...he died. But wait! There was another! And I came up to his face! So, I decided to save my ammo for him. Taking my trigger hand off...the trigger, I gripped the barrel along with my other hand, holding my gun like a baseball bat. WHOOSH! And I swung it like one too! SHKRICK! Most of his head exploded as if there was a bomb that went off inside, and man, it was awesome! Blood splashed everywhere, and I could even see the inside of his skull!

Three dead now! 33 more to go!

"HEY!" Shrieked a man from a distance.

I slightly looked over to my right to see a group of five men, armed to the teeth, aiming their weapons at me as a huddled squad.

BATATATAT! PAPAPAPAP! BABABABAB! TATATATAT! And erm...KEKEKEKEK! All five of them blasted away.

"Hold yer fire!" One of them yelled to his comrades, "Hold yer fire!"

Taking that moment to assess my damage, I looked down at myself to see my own body riddled with bullet holes. My arms, legs, torso, all had blood gushing out. If these motherfuckers loved blood, I'd be a great fountain! Hell, even my...hey, wait a minute! They got my dick too! I need that for blowjobs, anal and vaginal penetration, and dick touching! How dare they try to take that away from me!

"Hey, you're supposed to be dead!"

"You mother...FUCKERS!" I raised my M16 and pointed it at the scattering militia freaks, "Hope you suck bullets as much you suck cocks!"

Without repeating the sounds of weapon discharges, I started blasting away at the next group of douchebags that tried to kill me earlier. Well, both of us, I was an intruder on their little orgy town after all! 32...31, got the two standing in the middle of the roadway while the rest scattered to sides, both of whom were occupied by shit-tons of thrashed, armored vehicles. I must say, for a militia, they sure had a lot of'em! Oh, if only I could find my next gang, I could top their numbers in days! But anywho, I took it upon myself to pursue the three. I decided to go after the one who fled to the right, who just took cover behind one of the rusted Humvees. I hopped aboard the hood and, as I stopped in front of his helmeted head, dropped my gun for a brief second so I could grab his raised head. KA-KRICK! I tore that motherfucker right off his head using both hands.

"Hey, assholes!" I yelled at the two men on the other side, "Touchdown!"

I Peyton Manning'd the head all the way across the small road. "Gah!" One of the two pricks yelped as I witnessed the head go splat on his before bouncing off onto the grass. As I said: Touchdown!

"What the fuck, bro!?" He flipped the fuck out, taking his hand off his gun's trigger.

"I know!" I yelled from the other side, "What the fuck?? Tryna kill an outsider like me!? Fuck you!"

30 left by that point. Since I had no plans on sucking or jacking off the new dead man, I jumped all the way across to the other side where the remaining two were taking cover by. KA-KRANK! I managed to land on the roof of another fucked up Humvee, giving it some fresh bootprints from yours truly. Neil Armstrong would be proud.

"Howdy!" I said looking down at the two militiamen, making another leap off the vehicle so I can get up, close, and personal.

As I stood two feet before one of the remaining armed men, I quickly reached into his Adam's Apple using my non-trigger hand. SKRISH! I pulled that guy's throat out from his neck. SU-SPLISH! And whatever blood he had in there made it rain on my face, and man, lemme tell ya: Blood...tastes like fruit punch, well that and a bag of nickels. 29 of those fucks left, just need to...BATATATAT! There we go! It was then 28!

Finally, even after my awesome entrance, the alarms went off, with their ear-piercing screeches that just wanna make you be me in this chapter. Howling suddenly dominated the whole damn place. After tracing where it was all coming from, I turned to see a three-story building that started pouring out more militiamen than um...uhh...Well anywho, since it looked like fish in a barrel in that specific area, I rushed my way over and swapped my M16 for the good ol' M60 machine gun, very popular in the Vietnam War, also me!

"There's the intruder!" One of the many pricks pointed directly at me as I became seconds away of getting close to them.

"Take'im out!"

All of them raised their guns to give me a friendly greeting.

So, I greeted them back: CHUCHUCHUCHCUCH! Came the slower blasts of my LMG, or GPMG-whatever the fuck! The stream of bullets managed to kill at least four of them as they ran toward my direction, making the militiaman count go down to 24, and scream nothing but "Fuck!" and "Shit!" as some of them dispersed in several directions, most running their pussy asses back into the building. Gee, I wonder how many're in there? I wondered to myself. I immediately took the opportunity to rush inside to get my question answered.

Running inside the place, I found myself on the first floor...of course. And whaddaya know? Having stood by the entrance, I could see more than 5 men readying their weapons by the vehicle bay, which contained just one shitty truck with a Browning M2 turret on the bed. So, they got access to Humvees, and that too? Wow, talk about taking what you can get, eh? Oh well!

Cocking my machine gun that was already loaded for some reason, I fired it off at the militia dicks again as they did the same. I managed to shoot three down, making their number 21. I'm making progress! The rest kept blasting away as if I was gonna die anytime soon, hell, I was running at them holding my gun like a baseball bat for a second round! KER-PLASH! This time, I was able to take all of a guy's head! America! Fuck yeah!

KER-PLASH! The same sound was written again for the next motherfucker, who was firing alongside him. Fucking lazy-ass writing.

BATATATATAT! Blood splashed out of my forehead because there was still yet another of those pricks shooting me! What the hell was I, a punching bag!? CHUCHUCHUCHU! I shot him dead holding my MG with one hand.

"You shithead!"

Having known I was just on the first floor, I made my way to the stairs which was by the entrance I rushed away from. Once I made it up to the steel door, I instantly smashed it to the ground with my boot, KA-KRSH! Open fucking sesame. I rushed inside, eager to kill more of those pricks, and good lord almighty...There were only three, standing guns ready behind a conference table by the far side of the second floor.

"Who the fuck're you!?" Asked the guy closest to the window, sporting a white bulletproof vest. Because every unique member of a faction's gotta look different from his pawns.

"Hi! I'm Finch!" I introduced myself to the guys, "I'm the motherfucker you shot at a few hours ago!"

"The hell're you talking about!?" He yelled as he loaded the bolt of his Intervention sniper rifle, a very dumb weapon to use in close-quarters, "I never ordered my men to kill you!"

"Oh really!? Then how come those guys who tried to kill me by the entrance dressed like those two" I pointed at his two fuck buddies, "pricks!? Sure seems like you wanted outsiders like me dead! Whatchya got against people not from Missouri, eh!?"

"Hey!" One of his voluntary sex slaves shouted, "Fuck you!"

"Yeah, we ain't gotta take shit from no outstater!"

"Wow!" I took the moment to comment, "Such generic dialogue!" I raised my M60 at them as I jumped onto the table, "It's a novel, not a fuckin video game!"

CHUCHUCHCUCHU! More of my bullets were so eager to penetrate the remaining militiamen in the room. Hehehe, penetrate, get it?

FUCK! None of my ammo was able to hit any of them, not even the douchebag commander, who just took off in the opposite direction and jumped right out the window like an action hero! The other two pricks on the other hand, just began shooting. I was gonna kill'em buuuuuuut I was so pissed off that white-armored guy just took off without an awesome fight I followed suit by jumping out when I made it to the other end of the table. Damnit! PRUMPF! My boots made a harsh landing on the grass. With a certain little cocksucker I felt like killing at the time, I looked ahead to see him running away holding his sniper with one hand.

Get back here, asshole!" I took off running after him, "I ain't finished with you!"

I chased the commander through the compound. As I ran, I constantly kept trying to take a couple potshots at him using my LMG (while his homies did the same as I passed by them along the way), but the guy was still going! Soon, both of us made it out of the area.

"Goddamnit..." Finally, the man stopped dead in his tracks. He collapsed on all fours on the grass to take a breather, "...I didn't order yer execution!"

I halted my running from behind, "Bullshit!" I denied his lie.

"Why the hell would a militia wanna kill some freak like you?? We got enough shit of our own to worry about! Especially with that weird-ass ammo that just came in-"

BLAM! I decided enough was enough with his fucking bullshit by putting a single 45. caliber bullet into his head. I mean, c'mon! I witnessed, back in the 2nd chapter, with my own two fucking eyes, a team of men who looked exactly like the guys I just killed in the compound! The audacity of him! Glad I killed him...I was then just wondering what kind of special ammo he was talking about anyway. Were they Dragon's Breath? Explosive rounds? Or hell, just some tracer bullets used by morons who don't seem to know the purpose of, you know, bullets?

BOOOOOM! A sudden explosion went off from behind me. I casually turned around to bear witness to the fiery death of the building I just stormed into a couple minutes ago. What the hell?? I wondered internally. BOOM! Another giant...boom came out of nowhere, this time from where all the vehicles were, destroying any that were in its path. BOOOM! And for the lovely trope of three of the same events happening at once, yet a third explosion the size of a house happened from the far side. In the span of a few seconds, the entire place was a nice campfire to roast the marshmallows over. To that, I could only say: Yayyyyy! They're all dead!

Well, since I settled my score with the Sons of Missouri and claimed victory, I skipped my way to the Urban Kommando. When I arrived back to my car, I noticed a small, yellow note (which had a tiny little fire going on the top left corner) on the armored-up side of the windshield, specifically the passenger side. Having snatched it for a quick read, I immediately noticed the words "METH PARTY TONIGHT" and "9:00 P.M." written in pen. There was also an address by my eyes were too focused on the word meth.

I checked my phone for the time. "8:20 P.M." It said on the screen. To that, I hastily hopped in, ignited the tiger-purring engine, and took off with a big smile. Hey, who wouldn't smile when they get the chance to have some free drugs? You know Hollywood actors, politicians, and especially the cops're snorting and smoking some of it behind your backs.

"Alright!" I yelled in excitement, "I get to get high again!"

Chapter 6

Finch of a Lifetime

Finch Ferris...again

Ah, back again, are ya? Good, good, good. I was just starting to get lonely with it being just me and my douchebag nerd of a writer. Let me recap for you...Blah blah...I enter the city...Blah blah, these fucking pricks try to kill me, blah blah, I kill'em all at their own compound, which blew up.

All caught up? Good. After dealing with the militia, I made my way to the surburbs of the city to find an apparent meth party that was soon to happen at 9 o'clock at erm...let me find it...Ah, here we go! 2016 Hildebrand Avenue...Hildebrand?? Damnit, Seth...Sam...I mean...Shadow Rose! Are you trying to get you, your editors, and publishers sued?? Oh, who am I kidding? By the time you're typing this on your pathetic laptop, you have no money! Anywho...I managed to find the house, located in the more enjoyable parts of the city; The ghettos, nothing but gang bangers, mobsters, and more corrupt, nightstick-happy cops than the LAPD.

Stepping out of my Urban Kommando, I started walking across the concrete walkway leading up to the front door. Even just from the outside, I could see all sorts of hedonistic human behavior on the front yard. To the right of me, two women scissored on the green grass, three guys smoked weed by the front right window as they watched the two ladies fuck, and on the left, half of a Chevrolet Impala (its roof painted white the rest was pink) was literally parked on the grass. Some gangbanger-looking guy was napping on the hood AK in-hand. On the roof just above the front door, two men overlooked the area as they drank their hearts away with America's favorite beverage: Beer!

Approaching the door, I looked back to the right side of the yard to now see one of the stoned men join the two women in their little fuck-fest. The scissors just got themselves a sausage! CLICK! I casually turned the knob without knocking, revealing the true party within. The muffled techno was no more, reaching its way to the cold outside. I walked on in to witness the even bigger party from within. There had to have been at least 20-30 people dancing around the place at once, the rest spent their good time gulping their beers, smoking meth pipes, and fucking each other, sometimes in threes, fours, hell, even more. This, my friends, was America in one house!

Before I wanted to interact with the lovely men and women, I scrounged around the house looking for a meth pipe of my own. I had the misfortune of losing mine during that truck job a couple weeks back, the very event that costed me my own crew...and my friends...Anywho, after some searching in the kitchen, I managed to find a single, glass pipe sitting on the counter next to the oven. Doing a quick three-take to the left and right of me, I snatched the pipe and inserted some meth crystals inside. Eager to enjoy the kickass high, I reached into my jeans for my lighter, which I didn't have at the time.

"Fuck cock!" I said to myself.

"Have mine!" Said a woman from behind.

I turned around to see a smoking hot woman hold a lighter up to my pipe. And when I mean smoking hot, I mean she could burn Hell down with just her presence, and I've done that myself already! Her light, smooth-as-butter skin, shining eyes, golden blonde hair, big tits, and a sharp red dress that spelled "I'm America's biggest, hottest slut!", and by the loserness of Shadow Rose did I loved every inch of it.

"Thank you!" I lifted my pipe up to her lighter as she ignited the flame, heating up the end.

Let's get high! I hit my first bowl, and man, was it good to smoke it again! I mean, the adrenaline rush you get from that shit! All the shit that pissed me off for the past couple weeks was out of my mind as I took more smokes. Kids, do drugs, it's good shit! This shit'll keep you driving and killing for several days without ever feeling the need to go to sleep!

"You wanna have unprotected sex!?" I excitedly asked the woman.

With instant excitement, she spit her meth pipe out of her mouth, "Fuck yeah!"

Adding zero hesitation to her joy, she led me to the nearest bedroom of the house. Once we got in...what the hell does Shadow Rose mean he can't do sex scenes!? I don't give a shit he's still a virgin, that's his own damn fault! Well that's what happens when you write, play video games, read comic books, and masturbate all fucking day! It makes you into a fucking nerdy pussy! Fine! I'll speed this shit up! Both of us went to a bedroom, we kiss, then jump aboard the bed, touch her tits, take her pants off, stick my penis in her vagina, and I ejaculate. There! Is that better for you, Shadow Rose?? You lonely prick.

A few minutes of relaxation went by, then out of nowhere, "AGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!" A woman screamed from the living room, like straight out of a horror movie. Ah, just the right time! A sex scene was involved! Very common in those kinda movies.

"Hm..." I got up from the bed, "...I wonder what's going on out there."

I opened the door and shut it behind me. With curiosity, I headed to the living room to find out what caused that scream. As I came in, rushes of wind went by as party guests ran right past mem making their way to the back door. I looked to the area by the TV and the couch to witness a homeless-looking man stabbing the fuck out of one of the partiers. SKLISH-SLISH-SKLRSH! His shiny machete penetrated deep into his victim's stomach. Looks like somebody's been watching too many Friday the 13th movies!

Eventually, he stopped getting all stabby-stabby. The party guy collapsed onto the blood-stained floor alongside a couple other corpses. His glowing, neon bracelets continued blinking even after death. My eyes darted up to the killer, a disheveled man who had three scars going across his entire face. His dull green jacket rocked with military patches and tears in various parts, some of the tears surrounded by blood stains. He had a nice haircut though.

"Well, c'mon, motherfucker!!!" The homeless guy shouted aggressively, "END ME!!!! END MY PAIN!!!!"

To that, I took out my M1911 and aimed it at his head, "If you insi-"

"What the fuck!?" Somebody walked in through the back door.

I briefly turned to my left, catching sight of a bald, Latino-looking guy holding a Tec-9. From the corner of my eye, I could see the woman I banged coming in with frazzled clothes.

"Wha-..." The guy tried to speak but couldn't even start making a sentence, "...Is that my girl??"

I looked behind to the woman before turning back to him, "Uhh...she's the sales clerk at the sex shop!"

"Hey, fuck you!" His gun raised up at me, "You as good as dead fer bangin my girl!"

"Well you're good as dead fer sayin I'm good as dead!"

TATATATAT! He discharged his Tec-9 in a gangster fashion. Since the party was pretty much over at that point, I ran and jumped right out of the nearest window I could find, particularly the one leading to the backyard. As I landed on the concrete ground outside, I quickly picked myself up and dusted off the glass shards. Only then did I notice the shit-ton of gangbangers (armed as a platoon of Navy SEALs) standing outside cocking their guns.

"Hey, who the fuck're you!?" One of'em asked, aiming his MAC-10 at my face.

"Me?" I briefly my non-armed hand on my chest, "Oh, I'm just a lonely man gettin some action! Who're you?"

"A guy who's gonna bust a cap in yo ass if you don't answer!"

"Oh, I busted something alright!" I used my left hand to point down at my dick, "A nut!"

"Man, shut this motherfucker up!" He and his buddies all aimed their weapons. I should paint a bullseye on me sometime!

Gun sounds of all types went off as bullets came flying at my direction. Damn, just when was done fucking and getting ready to hit more bowls! Oh well, good thing I took some of the meth with me! Taking a sharp right, I immediately crashed my whole body into a wooden fence, taking a brief fall down onto a wide alleyway, reeking nothing but expired beer, piss, and semen residue. This must be what Compton and Watts are like! They sure sound like my kinda dive. Anywho, to get back to my Urban Kommando, that I parked around the house, I took a clear left to get away from the crazy gangbangers, which I grieved thinking about because it would've been nice to get in touch with my gangsta side after 10 years. Ahh, life.

I stopped dead in my tracks right as I hit the end of the alley. From where I stood, I could see several men inspecting the Kommando as if they were curious about it. I took five steps forward, giving me somewhat of a better look at the men, whom then I noticed were armed just like the gangsters that just tried to kill me, except with more state-of-the-art weaponry judging by their guns, most of them assault rifles. ARX-160s and G36s to be precise, and that these guys were quite armored up as well. Kevlar vests, helmets, goggles, gas masks...exactly the kinda people who would look for me, well that and dudes in EOD suits with M134s, you get the idea. I didn't do much at first. I wanted to see who they were before killing them. They might've been the attack dogs of the Sons of Missouri for all I knew. But, when I saw one of them unzip his pants and take a piss on one of the miniguns mounted on the hood of my car. At that point, I took off and charged toward that specific vandalizing cocksucker.

"HEY!" I yelled as my M1911 looked deep into his goggled eyes, "No one R. Kelly's my car but me!!!"

BAM! One bullet came soaring into his face, sending his sorry ass to the sidewalk as blood poured out of his disrespectful, motherfucking head.

"There he is!" Said another from the other side, readying his G36, "Take'im out!"

Just as they were about unload their ammo on me, I ran up to the latest corpse I made and snatched up his ARX. But before I could find a target: PTTTTTTTTTTTT! All their guns went on me. Once I managed to lock a guy, particularly the one by the open trunk, KAKAKAKAK! I unleashed several rounds of my own into him. The bastard who seemed to have been looking into my shit died there and then, leaving the guy by the driver side, to whom I jump-flipped over the hood to reach. As I landed, I instantly grabbed him by his bulletproof vest, ramming my face into his, pathetically "protected" by a gas mask, PWUCK! Crimson red splashed over the Acrylic glass shielding his eyes, none that I could see anymore. I immediately let go of him, seeing the only use he had to me was his weapons and gear to paint the shit out of.

BOOM! Came a gunshot from out of nowhere, a big one. I was quick to pin-point the shot having came from the rooftops of the house. I looked up to notice a lone sniper crouched on top of a roof. BOOM! He fired again, scraping the hood with the next round.

I aimed up at the recon, "Ah, you motherf-"

KAKAKAKAK! I took a few potshots at the cocksucker who just dented my car.

From the short distance below, I could see him get knocked down by my bullets. As soon as I saw him go down, I quickly entered the Kommando, ignited the ignition, and took off without looking back. As I drove my way back to the hotel, only halfway through did I decide to look at the guy's gun I just looted back there, when I finally took the time to notice a small symbol stickered on the AR. I grabbed the grip to get a closer look, gazing down at a white crescent moon crossed with a red M16. Confusion took me over for a brief, then pissed off-edness...

"LUNA!?!?" I shouted inside driving, "MOTHERF-"

Chapter 7

Feel The Rampage, Taste The Rampage

John Phillips

"So how's the weather out there, Donnie?" Asked a news host to his weatherman.

"Not bad!!!!!!!" Donnie said, all while gushes of wind and heavy rain dominated the sound, "The tornado took my umbrella though!!!!"

"Are you okay though?"

"Yeah!!! *DING-DING* Alright! Just made it to a taco place! Think I'm gonna stay here and watch the tornado!"

Several sounds of glass getting smacked hard went off.

"What's goin on out there?"

"Oh uhh...that's hail hitting the windows." I could hear somebody munching on crunchy food, "Hope you don't mind, I'm having a taco!"

"Just as you walked in?"

"Yeah, found it on somebody's tray but nobody was around so I took it!"

"Hey!" Yelled a deep voice, "That's my taco, you dick!"

Something seemed to shuffle around on a table or something.

"The hell's goin on now?" The news host expressed concern for the apparent predicament happening to the weatherman.

"Uh, I am now in a fight with the guy whose taco I stole!"

The weather reporter and some man fought for a bit. But it couldn't last forever. Suddenly, KA-KRRRRRRRRRSH! Mass amounts of glass and concrete seemed to collapse, then along came big blasts of wind. After that, silence...Nothing came out of the radio save for dead static.

"Hello?" The host tried to communicate through his earpiece. Nothing seemed to come through as more moments of silence came by, "Donnie?...Donnie?"

At that point, I tuned the radio to something else, something that hopefully gave me hope.

"Are being bullied by gang members?" Said an eccentric man, "Are there just too many cops riding on your ass? Is the government ready to take your guns? Well fear not, for I have, for 49.99, an M4A1 SOPMOD! Chrome-plated, complete with ACOG sight, M203 grenade launcher, flashlight mod, and laser attachment! With this baby, nobody in the country'll fuck with you! School bullies? Gone! Gangbangers? Gone! Cops? Eliminated! Government tyrants? Just liberate the nation with a couple 40 mils!"

I stopped paying attention halfway as I drove through the pitch-black woods. After that little meeting with Brock James, I just wanted to head back to the compound and clear my head, maybe have a drink or two to forget that guy. Can't believe I signed up for this behind their backs, I said internally. But damn, that money sure can entice any motherfucker. 800,000 dollars, that was 30 times more funding than what my fellow Sons of Missouri had in their piggy bank; All just to eliminate some guy whom now...kinda wished I knew more about before even taking the mission.

But my pondering had to take a big break, for I had noticed something bright in the dark distance. What the hell? With caution, I drove up to the light. I've been scared plenty of times in combat before, especially when it came to dealing with the authorities, but nothing could make my heart beat faster than a speedster superhero for what I saw before me.

"The compound!! Shit!" I said out loud in the armored safeness of my JLTV.

It was up in flames!!! In fucking flames! What the fuck happened here!?!?!? Did some guy fly a plane and drop firebombs on the whole place!? One of these guys mishandled their own explosives and set off a chain reaction!? I certainly hoped the latter, because knowing the existence of Finch Ferris already turned my spine into Mount Everest by just one encounter. I didn't need any more enemies to keep in mind when doing random shit for the militia.

I stopped the truck right in front of the entrance. I rushed out to see the literal hellfire from up close. And let me tell you, anything that reeked of Sons of Missouri had been stomped to death by the smell of ashes and smoke that day. Shit...my mind spoke. If I'm the only SM alive, then I'm so fucked. Fucked. In. The. Ass. I immediately got back in the JLTV, not bothering to at least take a couple steps in and check for any survivors or something of great value. I just went in, turned around, and drove right outta there. Where the hell am I supposed to go?? All the other hideouts had been either seized by the cops or had been thrashed for poor maintenance! But...there was one contact I had out there at least, and he's not that bright, but a brother-in-arms regardless.

30 MINUTES LATER...

*Sigh* Here I am. I had just parked in front of a Chuck E. Cheese.

Having stepped out of the truck, I made my way inside, passing by two families each with two uppity children eager to have fun. Once inside, I took no time to watch or play any of the games they had, most of them were occupied by loony kids anyway. No, the main floor was not why I was there, I was there for the bottom floor. I walked straight into the kitchen, greeting a cook whom I'd pass by every time, heading into a door located by a dead corner of the area. I took one flight of stairs down to meet the door guard, who was too busy playing on his phone instead of trying to keep the cops away. Regardless, I casually went in, ignoring the distracted moron.

"Hock." I called his name as I entered the meth lab.

My friend, who was busy staring into a big meth pipe, turned to the doorway.

"Oh hey, John!" He greeted all friendly.

"Hey." I took a look at what he was doing, "Tryna get double the action?"

"Oh yeah!" He happily said, "The boss said we'll make more money if we sell these!"

I briefly turned to the two long tables, housing nothing more than test tubes and liquid chemicals. Guys in hazmat suits each did their part in making crystal, while only two armed guards watched over the whole production.

My attention shifted back to him, "Don't you make enough money?"

"Well, the boss says we need to make up for the warehouse we lost a week ago."

"The one that got seized by the cops?"

"Yes."

"Ugh, like we don't have enough to worry about."

I grabbed a chair from a table sitting against the wall, plopping it in front of Hock to take a seat.

"You okay, John?" Hock did the same with another chair.

"Not...exactly." I told him, "Um...you know the compound I often hang out in? With the Sons of Missouri? Well uhh...some shit happened to it."

"What happened?"

I struggled to bring the truth out, "Um...oh boy...It...it's up in flames now."

"Ohh...like a campfire? Oh, I love doing those, especially in the woods-"

My eyes gazed deep into the stars in Hock's eyes, "Not exactly. It blew up. It's gone, all of it, and I don't know why."

"Does that mean you're not a Son of Missouri no more?"

"I guess not." I shrugged at his assumption, "Probably not since I took that money from Brock James, God that guy's an asshole...and weird."

Hock gently put the big meth pipe on the dark gray floor, "What was he paying you for?"

"To kill this...guy." I confessed as I got up from the chair, "Finch Ferris was his name, and trust me, you don't ever wanna come near him. I sure as hell don't after what he did to a couple of my-" My brain stopped working when the realization finally hit me, "Oh God!" I couldn't believe I didn't figure it out then and there when I was at the compound itself.

"What is it, John?" Asked Hock with a tilted head.

"Yeah, I can't be here." My eyes snapped down to my friend, "We can't be here now!"

"Why no-"

Even from the bottom floor, I could hear several big thumps go off from above. Oh shit, I panicked on the inside. Man, we're fucked. I hastily snatched an AK-47 from the table whose chair I took and guided Hock to the meth tables so he could hide under with the other cooks in case the intruder ever decided he wanted some raw meth and fresh, non-parent adult prey. The two other guards and I went up to the door cocking our guns to prepare ourselves for yet another break-in.

BOOM! But we were too late. The door blew up sky high right in front of us, slamming me to the cold floor. Just as I was about to get my ass off the ground, another big boom went off, this time a bit more ear-piercing, and one that flashed before my eyes, destroying any chances of making any quick kills.

"EAT LEAD, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!!!..."

Chapter 8

Vengeance You Just Can't Quench

Finch Ferris

"MOTHERFUCKER!" I shouted inside my hotel room, swiping a stack of three ceramic plates off the kitchen table.

KRISH-KSH-KSH-KSH! All of them crashed onto the granite floor, splitting into many sharp pieces.

"COCKSUCKER!" I rammed my fist into the refrigerator door. PUM! I put a nice fist-print on it for all to see. POOM! I then launched my face into the other door, creating another fine print.

PWUMP! Something wet and soft made itself known from behind. Possibly raw steak or an eager pussy. I hoped the latter, but hey, when I saw what was on the wooden table, it was still something that made me all fuzzy inside!

"Rudy!" I ran up to my dog with open arms and a smile on my face, wrapping them around his slippery head, "Aw, I can't stay mad forever with you around!"

I excitedly climbed up the table. Laying down on the hard wood, I kept my arms around Rudy so that I could cuddle with the little bastard and reflect on the good ol' times with the Crew before that fucking robbery, shit that made me happy. I recalled this one time me and my old pal John Adoniyah investigated some research base deep in the heart of Antarctica. This was when I working for LUNA. Anywho, it was just us two, storming into this place, doing our usual shit, killing assholes and cleaning up the place. Only that time, we were killing these mutated freaks who destroyed the whole fucking laboratory, all because some asshole got drunk and threw a gin bottle at one of the glass cages. John kept flipping the fuck out the entire time we were shooting the mutants. It would've been quite the action movie unlike this novel. We had to detonate a series of firebombs they kept hidden under the base for some reason, and boy, you should've seen the fire! We may have officially contributed to climate change.

"Mr. Ferris." Eyovee said my name from the living room, interrupting my cuddling time and my fucking narration!!!!

"What??" I yelled from across the room, not moving a muscle.

"Do you have a plan to find more of these LUNA?"

"You're the AI!" I reminded him, "Don't you have a fucking idea?"

"While I don't want to ruin any you had in mind, I may be able to find out where these so-called commandos are hiding out."

I huffed at his statement, "How?"

"Well, I've been looking at the firearm you brought in from the meth party earlier. If given access to the camera, I might be able to find the last place the owner was at."

I got off the table, letting Rudy take a nap, "What fuckin camera?"

As I made my way to the reclining chair, where I put the ARX, a white, holographic arrow pointed directly at the gun. I snatched it up to take a closer look. Huh, well whaddaya know? Turned out there was a camera on it, attached right on the barrel. Looks like I get to kill'em all very soon...

"Alright." I tossed the AR onto the coffee table, landing right next to the module housing the very AI itself, "Show me the last place this prick was."

"Of course, Mr. Ferris."

An orange, square-shaped hologram popped up over the gun, big enough for me to see. A few seconds were needed in order to see anything, judging by the "HACKING..." text above. But thankfully, his tapping was successful. From the comfort of my couch, I could see footage of the ARX's last owner, particularly from a low point of view looking up at him.

"Audio." I wanted to hear what this prick had to say.

"So what's the deal?" The gun's owner asked his buddies.

"We meet our guy." Said another LUNA fuck, "See if he's there. Please don't say anything, Reid."

"How the hell do you know he's gonna get the job done?" He asked, scratching his neck, "This is Finch fucking Ferris we're talking about. You remember."

"Reid, just shut the hell up."

Reid scratched the fuck out of his shoulder, "A Chuck E. Cheese...ridiculous. I fuckin hate kids."

"Where's the Chuck E. Cheese!?" I grabbed an M4A1 off the table in front of the big window revealing the bright skyscrapers.

VMM-VMM! My phone vibrated from in my pocket. I took it out to see an address and a picture of the Chuck E. Cheese.

"Sent the location to your GPS, Mr. Ferris. But I war-"

I took off without listening to the rest of what Eyovee had to say. With no time to waste, I headed back out and jumped into the Kommando, setting the location of the Chuck E. Cheese on my GPS. Crashing into the security gate, I was on my way to the stupid pizza arcade place. Ugh...Chuck E. Cheese, felt just like yesterday at 11 when my dad hit me by the arcade games, and burned it down with him inside with a Molotov. Aw, the old days.

Anywho, following the path laid out to me and with some lazy writing, I had officially arrived at my destination in just a few minutes! Just by parking at...the parking lot, I could already see three LUNA pricks guarding the entrance. Easy enough! Activating the Grille Spikes of my Urban Kommando, I put the pedal to the metal and accelerated toward the trio. SKRISH! Two of them were nice enough to get fucked by the Spikes as I crashed into the glassy entrance. The other guy jumped out of the way just in time. Grabbing my M4 from earlier, I got out of the car to get my ass to work.

BATATATATAT! A fast stream of bullets came my way just as I cocked my gun. In an instant, I noticed the arms of a guy hiding behind a token machine. Just as he took another series of crack-shots at me, PEPEPEP! I fired at the bastard, hitting him in the neck and cheek before going down.

Good thing he wasn't the only LUNA fuck inside, because I was thirsty! Ammunition of all types came flying in my direction after killing some of their buddies. One guy charged at me using an AA-12, BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM! SKRICK! I tore his motherfucking throat out of his motherfucking neck, sending some delicious blood my way. Tee-hee-hee, I'm sick of these motherfucking commandos in this motherfucking Chuck E. Cheese! Two more pricks taking cover behind two different games of opposite sides blasted away thinking they were gonna kill me. Having my cake and eating it two, I took the AA and held it along with my M4. Running up to the pricks, I blasted one to the right to death using my assault rifle and the other with the auto-shotgun.

But wait, there was more! From the other side of the area, three rivers of bullets came for more. What the hell is it with adding one motherfucker with each team? The fuck kinda writing is that, Shadow? Anywho, I tried taking a potshot at one of them with the AA, CLICK! Aaannnd the shells were gone. Tossing the shotgun away, I used whatever was left in my AR to deal with the three, whom had just taken cover behind the pizza place. I jumped on inside, not finished with my vengeance.

"Hi!" I greeted with my assault rifle, "Remember me? From before the bullshit??"

TATATATATAT! I killed the closest prick, spraying the wooden wall blocking the view of the arcades with crimson red.

The two got the fuck away from their dead friend, but not without firing at me along the way, to which I fired back with no avail. As they made way into the kitchen, I followed suit, catching them in a small area populated only by two grills, a door leading to wherever, two assholes, and me.

"We've got to stop meeting like this!" I said to the commandos.

"Take'im out!" One said.

Not learning from past experiences, the duo unleashed more rounds at my face. Wow, not only has LUNA faded into obscurity, they've become major dumbasses too! Next thing I'll find out is that Brock James is alive and fucked the Queen of England, and that prince of hers! Well, it didn't matter anyway, I was gonna kill'em all regardless. Regenerating what body parts (like my eye) their guns managed to tear off, I walked up to the two and grabbed their unhelmeted heads. I soon rammed them into each other like a makeout session was about to happen, P-KISH! Both exploded into red juice, getting all over the floor, walls, and ever the grills just as pizza was still being cooked. Hope the kids like that vampire shit, Stephanie Meyer sure as shit does.

BABABABAB! More gunfire went off from outside the kitchen. Getting the fuck outta the pizza place and heading back into the arcades, I couldn't see any more gunmen. But when I looked outside...there was one more prick outside, and it wasn't the cocksucker who ran away like a geek trying to actually kill someone in a superhero costume, but some douchebag in an EXO-Suit with an M249 SAW. All I could think in that moment was: I WANT IT!!!!!!

"Hey, asshole!" I crashed through one of the many windows showing the inside to meet the EXO dude face-to-face, "Gimme that-"

PUPUPUPUPUPUPUP! That little motherfucker had the audacity to interrupt me as I was talking and shoot me in the stomach!

"GAAGGGGHHHHH!!!!" A river of stings encroached my bottom torso. As I was quick to clutch my wounds, my whole body collapsed on the ground. I took the opportunity to look down to see every hole ooze out a gooey, cyan liquid. "MOTHER...FUCKER!" The nostalgia hit me quickly, recalling the last time they used that shit to kill me...when they tried to kill me those years ago, before everything was a day away from going to Hell, which I went to shortly after. Wonderful place.

"Thought we didn't come prepared, eh?" The EXO guy said in a deep voice.

"Not yer fuck buddies apparently!" I noted, "You all really shoulda thoughta that! Having characters fully invincible might possibly lead to Mary Sue territory and the novel being boring! Just saying!"

"Shut the fuck u-"

BLAM! A gunshot came outta nowhere. Well, considering how I didn't feel any more in pain, I knew then and there that this was gonne be a "convenient rescue" kind of scene. Whaddaya know. Mr. EXO Man was dead! Shot in the head! Looking over to the entrance, I saw not one, but two guys standing by the door, one holding a handgun. Huh...who woulda thought lazy writing would work out in my favor. Extra shittier! I couldn't recognize either of them at first but as time healed my wounds (just slower), I slowly lifted myself off the concrete ground to see a familiar face.

"Finch." He called my name calmly.

"Hey, I know you!" I pointed at him with a bloody arm, "You're the guy who got fucked by the dog!"

"WHAT!?!?"

Chapter 9

The Crew

John Phillips

"You know..." I entered the hotel room behind Finch.

"Know what?" He asked, tossing his gun onto the coffee table.

"You really smell like crystal meth..." I scanned his entire red-soaked body, "...and blood. Have you considered showering during your time here?"

"Who're you, my hygiene inspector?" He plopped on the couch facing the big TV planted in the pillar side-sandwiched between two big windows.

I saw Hock walk around the room in awe, "No...but you coulda at least made the minimum effort to not get noticed by the cops."

"Well then, the cops around here are dirty." Finch assumed as he grabbed the remote, "I'm sure they give a fuck more about their bribe money than the safety of the people."

I mumbled facing the other way, "Like you represent their safety. Or anyone's really."

"Huh?"

"Nothin."

Having felt the need to relax myself in that God-forsaken time of crisis, I slammed my ass on the chair facing left of the hotel room. From where I sat, I looked over to Finch as he was slumped onto the cushion he sat on. Even with all the blood that covered his clothes, I could still see the black on his muscle shirt and the skeleton graphic doing the devil horns gesture. I was surprised his jeans and combat boots didn't look like they've also been around a juicer.

"Jesus..." I muttered just as he held the remote up in the air, gazing into his face "...you look like Ryan Reynolds fucked Brad Pitt then dropped you in a warzone."

Well, there goes watching My Heart Goes to You. Finch did not use the remote to turn on the TV. Instead, he used it as a football to throw directly at the TV. KRRRSH! The entire screen cracked like a car rammed into the whole thing. Sparks spit out electricity from nearly every hole created from the impact. Glad I wasn't the one who rented this place.

"WHAT!?!?" He sprang up from the couch, "What the fuck did you just say!?!? Are you trying to get us sued like Shadow Rose??"

I tried to backtrack faster than a Formula-1, "Uhh..." I hesitated to come up with a good lie for a few seconds, "...I mean...you look like a Navy SEAL fucked a Marine and dropped you in a beauty salon!"

"Oh." All the blood-boiling rage inside him disappeared like that. He soon sat back down on the couch like I totally didn't make that joke, "Why didn't ya say so?"

I didn't wanna say more after that. Being jumped in Finch's presence for a long period of time gets you to shut the fuck up when you have a man who can rip throats out with his bare hands. I should've known he'd get offended by a joke so obscure. On the way to the hotel, I've seen this man drive a muscle car outfitted with enough guns to annihilate an entire demolition derby, tear the jaw off a mugger just as I was about to have a smoke in the alley, and hit a bowl of meth in the elevator on the way up. Witnessing those three events alone were making me understand why LUNA wanted him dead, but even, with all the damn shadiness surrounding Brock and his mooks, that whole ordeal with his men still seemed...off to me. They could've gone to the cops or FBI or the fucking military to take him out but yet sent me to do their dirty work. It was off, all of it.

Well, because that goddamn maniac thrashed the TV, I took out my phone figuring I could watch it from that anyway. Just as I turned it on, the entire back of my neck became pressed by something wet, soft, and smelling like it just gobbled up a bunch of cheese puffs.

"Oh hey, Rudy!" Finch greeted in my direction.

I slowly turned my head to see what the hell was on me. Fuck Jesus up the ass! He still has it. The dog's head glared back as soon as our eyes met. I tried sitting completely still in hopes that he wouldn't try to relax his head on my face or tear it to shreds. It was bad enough that I got a human being that could already due that using his own teeth.

"How long're you gonna keep the dog?" I asked the maniac, steering my eyes away from Rudy with care.

"Hey hey!" Barked Finch, "That's Rudy to you, amigo! He's family!"

"Ugh, what's next, a tortoise!?"

"Hey, not a bad idea!" He actually considered such an absurd assumption.

"I like turtles!" Hock felt the need to blurt at random.

"Yeah, you should get a sidekick!" I figured fuck it at that point. I took a drink from the tray attached to Rudy's back.

"Aw, I think you make a great sidekick, John!" Complimented Finch.

"Uh...thanks...I think."

Realizing I still had a drink in my hand, I took a desperate slurp as I closed my eyes and took in the smell of Hawaiian beaches that room had in there. Sinking deep into the soft chair, I let my mind wander in an endless sea of memories as the liquor attempted to soothe the stress. It couldn't do a whole lot of effort at first, as I recalled the day I went to LUNA's little hideout for the first time. I could remember the whole damn thing in detail like it was just yesterday. It wasn't everyday your typical militia guy visited some old paramilitary organization...

"Hello, Mr. Phillips." Greeted a man from the darkness while I sat under a singular light in some interrogation room, "I know a lot about you."

Both eyes darted left and right, muscles tightening, "I see?"

"Yes...you do." He spoke in monotone, "Let me ask you something, Phillips...you love what you do? Being a pseudo-protector of the city? Waving your gun like a glorified soldier hoping to recapture his youth?"

"Um...why do you ask?"

"Well." Two oval-shaped lights begun glowing from one corner of the room. As I saw them raise up in the air, I soon realized that they were someone's eyes, "Let's just say you may have a chance to make an actual difference in the next few hours, and walk out a very rich man."

"Who am I supposed to take out exactly?"

As the man walked under the light, the glow went away, replaced by normal-looking cyan eyes.

"Finch Ferris."

Then, then and right fucking there, it hit me. I felt like a total moron for not bringing it up when we were at the Chuck E. Cheese.

"Their hideout!" I sprang right out of the chair as adrenaline shot through my body, "I know where their hideout is!" I looked down at Finch to tell him the good news, even though I just shouted it for him and Hock to hear. When my brain fully registered what he was doing on the couch, I couldn't resist cocking an eyebrow.

"Uhh...what the fuck're you doing?" I had to ask, witnessing Finch hold a porn magazine with one hand and the other pressed deep into his jeans.

Only then did he glare up at me, "Oh, I'm about to masturbate!" He confessed to my face with a smile on his face, "You wanna join in?"

"Hell to the no." I gently put my drink down on the coffee table alongside another that was out of liquor but had a meth pipe inside, "You can find some other lunatic for that." I got up from the chair and tapped my friend's shoulder, "C'mon, Hock."

Knowing, well...more like not wanting to know, what Finch was about to do in the comfort of his hotel room, I made it my main objective for me and Hock to fuck off and go into the bedroom. And, also knowing what I was about to do the next day, I was gonna need some serious shuteye so that at least one of us will have a clear head and not be hopped up on the kinda stuff you'd make in an RV parked in the middle of the woods in your underwear.

Chapter 10

The All-Seeing Eyes II

John Phillips

CH-CHICK! Finch cocked his M16A4 with his shooting hand. "You guys ready?" He asked, taking his blood-stained boots off the glove compartment, leaving a nice red stain for someone to clean up.

"Just about." I kept all eyes on the road to search for the LUNA hideout. But I did take the moment to turn to the backseat for just a brief second, "Hock, I really don't think you should be riding with us. I mean, Finch Ferris is here after all!"

Hock inspected the engravings of his 92FS, "Oh, that's okay, John. It's nice to hang out with friends."

"Uh, this is more than just hanging out, man."

"Aw, quit bein a pussy!" Barked Finch, "Hock is his own man! He can do whatever the fuck he wants!" He turned back to my friend, "Hey, Hock! You ready to kill some bad guys!?"

"Well I don't like killing but if they're bad guys..."

"Perfect!" FF aimed through his sights, "Then we're all ready to go!"

"Wonderful..." I managed to find the abandoned gateway leading to Brock's secret hideout. Driving through the entrance, lights made themselves known to my sight. Looks like they're still at work, I said in my own mind. Good, hopefully it'll be fish in a barrel for all of us. We can take them all out in there. Making it halfway through the roadway, I abruptly stopped Finch's so-called Urban Kommando right on the dirt, but not before turning all the way around just in case.

"What the hell?" Complained Finch.

Parked a short distance away from our destination, I could only stare at my new friend in contempt. He was Finch Ferris after all. You know, the man LUNA wanted dead, especially Brock. Surely the sight of his car would attract attention earlier than I wanted.

"Let's just go." I opened the driver door, stepping out with a G36 that BJ's buddies were kind enough to give me in exchange for FF's life. Finch on the other hand, felt it was necessary to bring an M60 to the mix. Too bad I didn't tell Hock to bring more than an MP5K, but Finch was insistent we do this in the middle of the fucking night, the damn morning I might add.

Armed to the best of our ability at the time, the three of us had no choice but to traverse the rest of the dark road with our thumbs up our asses. Approaching the very entrance of the building, I took a step back at the presence of two guards protecting the front doors. Finch was in no mood to stop. He started running toward the area as soon as he himself saw the LUNA men.

"Finch, don't!" I whisper-yelled to FF knowing my complaints were futile.

CHUCHUCHUCHUCHU! He had already begun firing at the guards using his LMG despite the distance between us and the front doors. Goddamnit...I couldn't help but cringe at Finch's strategy for breaking into a building filled with heavily-armed men. Well, having saw he took out one guy, I hastily picked off the other as I picked up the pace of Finch and Hock. I figured if that was the route we were gonna take, might as well go loud, just as long as F was willing to take all the bullets.

Running in front of Hock, that time I had to stop dead in my tracks right in front of the doorway. I quickly turned to my friend just as he was about to enter with me.

"Wait, uhh...Hock." I tried to come up with a good excuse at the moment, "I want you to wait here."

"Why?"

"Because...we need somebody to watch the outside."

"Oh, okay."

I slipped on inside, "Just...let us know if anyone comes-a-knockin, alright?"

"I'll let you know, John!"

I quickly caught up with Finch to get back into the fight...which had already started by the time I reached the office area. Arriving just in time, I could already hear the shoutings of the LUNA commandos as I witnessed FF blast away with his big-ass gun. Stepping over three dead men, I took cover behind a shredded cubicle to get as close to Finch as possible to avoid the excess sprays of bullets.

"Enjoying yerself, Ferris!?" I asked my new friend despite having already predicting an obvious answer.

"Abso-fucking-lutely!" Surprise, surprise, "What about you??"

Four bullets struck FF in his torso. Dark red blood nearly splashed my face but made a pool on the floor. But yet that crazy motherfucker kept going.

"Where's Hock?" He asked, taking crack-shots at the men on the other side, "He's missin all the fun!"

"He volunteered to guard the front doors."

"Oh, good kid." He took out a grenade from his jeans, snapping off the pin with the power of just his thumb.

I briefly got up out of cover to get some shots of my own in there. Some guy on the far side had the same idea; POP-POP! Two shots of my M14 rifle were enough to take him down, and to get his buddies' attention shifted at me. "Shit!" I instantly ducked back into cover. As I tried to get a look at the other side, something small and round suddenly came into sight, soaring all the way over to the commandos. BOOM! The room shined with explosive light, shattering every window unfortunate to be built inside. I could feel the heat warm up the area like we were standing by an abused oven, just when I thought keeping my Sons of Missouri gear was a good idea. I blame Finch and his shenanigans.

Needing a few seconds, I eventually rose up from cover. Because the hotness was beginning to kill me, I reached into one of the shoulder straps to get a few seconds of some cool air. BING! But that had to wait, because the elevator just announced newcomers, and probably not friendly ones. I took that second to see where Finch threw the grenade, clocking out the elevator and the LUNA guys that occupied it. My eyes were swift to turn to Finch and his second grenade.

"Wait!" I slapped the M67 as quick as I could, "I know another area we could hit! We need to take the next floor down!"

"Ooo, if ya say so!" He cocked his M60, ready for more because why not?...In his case.

The two of us rushed toward the elevator, which has just let the next squad out. But with the power of my bullets and Finch's, the guys pouring out were slaughtered faster than a roadrunner. Sure left some serious residue for me to go "Bleugh!" over once inside though. Taking one floor down (a bitch of a wait), we made it to the one place that made me wanna get queasy: Where I went to meet Brock James, you know, the same guy who lifted me up off the ground and slammed me onto a table? At that point, I wasn't sure who was worse; Finch the methheaded maniac who thinks he's in a novel or Brock the sadistic commander who'll kill his own allies over one fuck-up. Well, I guess I was minutes or hours away from finding out.

Arriving down at the bottom floor, Finch, for some reason, reached into the small space between the steel doors and started pulling them away from one another.

"What the hell're you doing!?" I fled to one corner of the elevator, "They'll get the jump on me!"

"On just you, eh??" But he kept going regardless, "What a way to show compassion for yer friend!"

"I just saw you get filled with lead and you barely did shit about it! A fucking nuke couldn't even stop you! Not sure what Brock's looking to get out of hunting you down."

But then, he stopped and turned, "What?? Brock James, the vampire!? You never said shit about him!!"

"I did, ya damn methhead! Back in your damn, gunned-up c-"

Before I knew it, a hand popped up from the right of the two-way path, latching itself on my rifle. Out of impulse, I pulled the trigger without the target being in the line of sight, PAPAPAPAP! The only holes I could make were the ones in the blue wall. "Gotchya!" Growled a male voice as another arm reached into the butt of my gun. Soon after that, a helmeted head showed up like a puppet surprising the kids. With the power of his strength and my own, I found myself in a tug-of-war involving my gun. Too bad the guy forgot in time that you should never put yourself in front of the barrel no matter what. PAPAPAP! A few extra rounds showed him the hard way, and the wet wall.

Peeking over the corner of the intersection to check both ways, I briefly turned to Finch as he casually did the same without taking cover.

"Coulda helped me there, Ferris!" I complained to the careless maniac

"Ya looked like ya had it covered!" His bright yellow eyes shined from the dim hall.

I took two steps in the middle of the intersection as slow and careful as I could. FF followed my lead, better that way knowing his personality from just a couple encounters.

"You see anything?" I asked the superpowered man.

"Nnnnope."

As Finch gazed into the left pathway and turn the other way, I noticed something...move behind him, something...watery. Taking a couple more steps forward, I could see this water-like form in the shape of a man. What the hell? I mentally scratched my own head. Suddenly, three red lights glowed from the top of this water-man, whom I had just noticed looked like he was holding something with two hands. Judging by the look of it, it looked like a firearm.

"Uhh...Finch." I took my left hand off the rifle to point directly at the thing.

My friend turned out of wonder, keeping his MG handy for some lead-filled wet-work, "Oh, motherfucker!" Without saying more, he aimed up at it with just one hand. CHUCHUCHUCHU! Four rounds took off across the hall. For some reason, red liquid splashed itself all over its surroundings from out of the blue. But when a full, motionless, human body came into existence from the floor, it finally made sense to me.

"Fuck...invisibility cloak." I murmured, holding my G36 tightly, "Should've known they'd have something like that!"

"Pred-Stealth Troopers." Said Finch, "Brock's little henchmen. If this prick's here then his buddy's somewhere around too."

"Just two of'em?"

"Two of'em is all you need to bring down an army."

"Hm...I say we split up." I suggested to F, "You take the left and I take the right. I'll find Brock and you-"

"Wha-...I wanna kill Brock!" He shouted despite the possible presence of more of those Pred Troopers or whatever.

"There's an armory fulla cool shit down that way."

And his anger disappeared like that...fucking psychopath, "Well, why didn't ya say so! We could use some extra firepower!"

And without saying more, he just took off into the hall, excited with the chance of finding a big-ass gun or something. To that, I shrugged and started trekking across the right hall, dropping the stealth act. Finch just made ourselves known and I did not wanna stay long unlike him who seemed to know a lot more about these people than I did. I've always wondered what the deal actually was between him and Brock in the first place. BJ talked like he knew Finch quite a bit, enough to provide the right ammo to kill him. Too bad he didn't think about giving that to all his minions. Guess the thought of me failing never came to mind at the time ironically.

Jogging through the hall, I took a sharp left at the corner, taking a small breather of not encountering another of those invisible commandos on the way. Well, that was to be short-lived for my case (unlike Finch's case judging by the gunfire I could hear from the other side), as something hard and cold stopped me in my tracks, and wrapped itself around my neck.

"What the!?" My eyes darted down to notice the same water-like form get in my neck's way.

"Hello, militiaman." The trooper greeted in a cold voice from behind. I could feel his even-colder breath hit the back of my neck as if he was trying to seduce me. Clearly this guy took lessons from E.L. James on how to seduce people. If only that mook knew that kinda shit still creeps a lot of people out.

"Where's Brock James??" I grunted, sneakily reaching into my knife holster for, you know...a knife.

"Not here." He chuckled in a menacing way, making me even more uncomfortable than before.

"We'll see about that!" I rammed my blade deep into that prick's neck, releasing all the grip he had on me at the moment.

Now I really don't wanna stick around! Getting his hands off, I finally decided "Fuck It" and just took off through the hall. It wasn't like I didn't know where the conference room was anyway. Brock loves that little room with his fellow commanders, whom Finch may have killed in his blood path.

After some jogging, I was lucky to find the conference room without any further incident. Kicking the door down, I stumbled into the presence of a single man shitting his pants as he jumped backward onto the floor. "Aw, shit!" He panicked to himself as I invited myself in, leaving just me and him.

"You're that militia guy!" He struggled to get himself up, "That...John Phillips motherfucker!"

"Yup." I calmly confirmed with one word, keeping him in my sights, "And be glad it's me cause that maniac's making a detour into yer armory!"

"Finch Ferris?? Fuck!"

"Fuck is exactly right! Where's Brock James!?"

The scared fuck backed himself into the wall, "I don't know!"

"Don't be fucking playing with me!" I cocked my G36, ready to pop his head off in case he tried something, "I've got enough to deal with, with that Finch guy getting on my nerves!"

"I swear, man!" He finally lifted himself off the floor but kept relatively close to the wall, "I don't fucking know! I only know he goes to some other hideout but only his informant knows where he goes!"

"Informant??" I questioned with harshness, "Only one guy knows yer his other hideout?? Sounds fishy!"

The man hesitated to speak up. Having a gun pointed at your face will do that to you, "Trust me, it's true! He lives in the city!"

Taking my non-shooting hand off the gun, I reached into my pocket for my phone. I used as quick as I could to get Hock on the line.

"Hock? You still out there?" I first wanted to know he was okay being outside.

"Oh yeah!" Thankfully he wasn't bird food or a fuck vessel for a tweaker, "I'm just sittin here in the car. He's got a cool GPS on here! It's big!"

"Good. You, where does the informant live?"

"The downtown area!" He gave only a general answer.

"Where in the downtown area!?"

"Okay, uhh...from uh...Liefeld Road, you know, that big street?" He finally begun giving actual directions, even though there's a such thing as GPSs, "Make a right into Reynolds Street, then take a left into Hildebrand Avenue. Drive two blocks, then, when you see Skrein Street, go right-"

"Wait, how do you pronounce that street name again?" Hock asked from the blue through the speaker phone which was still on.

"What?" The guy's attention shifted to my phone, "Reynolds?"

"No, no, no. The other one."

"Hildebrand?"

"Yeah, that one!"

Oh, Jesus, I lamented in my own mind. We had a ruthless commander to take out alongside a dangerous maniac with a penchant for crystal meth and this was the topic of conversation? I was just glad Finch was not there to make things more annoying and life-threatening.

"Hilde-Brand?"

"No, Hildebrand! I'm calling it here!"

"Is now really the time??" I had to ask. Like I said, Brock James was gonna want a piece of our asses and we were questioning a goddamn name.

"It could be Hilde-ay-Brand, or Hilde-re-Brand." Hock just had to keep going with this bullshit, "I mean, how would you know it's pronounced...the way you said it?"

"Uh...Actually...I read the name on a GPS two weeks ago." Even the LUNA guy whose name I didn't know went along with it, "I don't really know how to say it. I just assumed that's the correct pronunciation."

"I mean...that's two names into one. Hilde and Brand."

"Could go either way, really."

At that point, my frustration levels were an all-time high. All he had to do was give Hock an address, but yet finding Brock was apparently not the important mission of the hour! Out of nowhere, I soon tossed the G36 onto the table and proceeded to grab the bastard before more of BJ's goons came knocking, well, more like run in because I destroyed the door.

"Give us an address, damnit!"

"2013 Trevor Highway!" He finally confessed the location of their informant after all that fucking time.

I instantly let go of the LUNA mook, "Thank you!"

With that dumbass out of my grip, I quickly snatched my rifle and phone and proceeded my way to the door. The second he came into sight, whoa! I jumped back startlingly as he approached me with a big-ass gun, one that looked like it shot plasma. And man was he smiling, no surprise given his personality.

"Whassup, Johnny!" Finch greeted excitedly as he pointed that fucking superweapon in my damn direction. No consideration for others, no surprise there.

I immediately stepped out of the gun's line of fire, "Jesus Christ, Finch!" I needed a moment to calm myself down in his presence, "...Did you deal with the others?"

"Yup!" Said F with eccentricity, "Found this in their armory! Ain't she pretty?"

"Sure, whatever!"

I walked past Finch as swiftly as I could, "C'mon! We gotta head back into town."

"Why?"

"You'll see..."

Chapter 11

The Finch Ferris Hijinks

John Phillips

"Ahh...the slums!" Finch took a breath of dirty air from the open passenger window, "America's true face! I love it!"

His comments were not worth turning around for, especially when you're driving, "You need help, Finch. You really fucking do."

"Hey, that's the way of the world, my friend." He commented, taking a puff of his meth, "Everyone needs help!"

"Not me, my friend." I took a right into Trevor Highway, the very street the house was supposed to be, "Just you. I'm fine."

"Says the damn member of the Sons of Missouri!" He pointed out, "When's the last time ya got laid under their payroll?"

A moment of silence overcame the car, "...Shit."

"My thoughts exactly. Look around ya, JP! In Cali, ya got assholes in jumpsuits lookin to save their city but can't trust each other fer shit. In Dust, ya have mercenaries who'll sell you and yer significant other out fer hooker money. In-"

That became my moment to interrupt Finch's little speech, "Missouri, we have you, Finch Ferris."

"Exactly!" He seemed to agree with me despite my obvious sarcasm, "America, hell, the whole world, is fulla freaks! Embrace it!"

Parking the car on the opposite side of the street where the house was, I finally turned my head to Finch with a face of contempt, "...I think I'll move to Hawaii instead."

Sneaking a P226 into my jeans, I stepped out of Finch's Urban Kommando, letting Hock out through my side of the two-doored car. Once Finch took his last puff of meth before tossing it into some poor gangbanger's car, the three of us crossed the street. Walking through the cracked concrete, I looked both ways for oncoming cars, alwhile adjusting my armor to give my deeply-covered torso some fresh, cool air that kept gushing at me along the way. Even knowing I was about to do something illegal with Finch, I felt calm that day. A little sleep sure can make the difference in all the right situations.

"So, what's the plan?" Asked Hock, rubbing his finger against the engravings of the combat knife I generously donated to him a year ago.

We made it to the sidewalk, seconds away from the house.

"We go in, confront this supposed inside man, and get answers out of him." I laid it all out to Hock as we stopped in front of the guy's home.

Finch cracked his skull-smashing knuckles, "Can't wait to kill that prick."

I sighed at his prevalent bloodlust, "If you're gonna kill'im, please do it after."

"Fine!"

Putting one foot onto the concrete walkway leading up to the house, a blast of cool wind hit my face as I noticed Finch whoosh right past me and Hock.

"The fuck're you doing!?" I asked his crazy-ass.

But I got no answer. Instead, he went on to demonstrate his version of Breaking and Entering...by charging right into the front door. KRIIISH! He used his entire body to knock the whole door down, BA-KUM! Honestly, the only thing that surprised me at that point was the fact that the door didn't smash into smaller pieces having seen his prowess from just a computer screen. You know, that guy should really consider himself lucky for having those superhuman abilities. If he didn't have any, he'd be dead.

"Shit you wouldn't do!" He shrugged off my concern for, you know, our discreetness.

Hock and I were quick to catch up, "Is that how you live yer life? Doing shit nobody else is willing to?"

The three of us were in the house.

"Hey." Finch took out his M1911. An unsilenced one I might add, "Somebody's gotta stick it to the big man on campus, am I right, militiaman?"

"Oh, fuck you."

Despite Finch's dramatic entrance, silence overtook the house. Not one "What the fuck??", "Holy shit!", or "AGGGHHHHH!!!!!" was shouted from anywhere inside. I could only cock an eyebrow and cock my rifle over the lack of noise. I highly doubt it's gonna go easy, my mind was quite skeptical. I've had enough rival militias jump out at me to know to be prepared for all forms of heat.

But eventually, some noise rose up from the silence. Shuffling went off from the somewhere up ahead in the house. I could tell judging by the muffling that it came from underneath, possibly the basement. Finch and I exchanged nods before heading to the hallway, figuring the door to the possible basement was in there. I checked every doorway in the hall, opening every door I could find. All I could find were two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a closet. Not a single one lead to anywhere below.

But then, BUM! Finch's boot made an even bigger bang on the floor despite being on a carpet. "Uhh..." He looked down, taking his shooting hand off the gun handle, "...that ain't normal."

I walked up to F, "You sure as shit ain't normal in the least." I felt like pointing out just before investigating.

I scanned the carpet for any obvious anomalies, in which none were present. If there's nothing on the top, I briefly delved into thought, then there's something on the bottom. Setting my AR on a drawer filled with pictures of some guy in varying ages, I grabbed one end of the carpet with both hands, urging Finch to get off as I tossed it on its other side, unveiling the big secret below.

"Son of a bitch." I muttered to myself, snatching my rifle, "He's been hiding the whole time."

"Then time to pay this asshole a visit!"

Finch, without bothering to tell me, jumped right into the trap door. KRRRRSH! The hardwood smashed into more pieces that the door FF fucked up on his way in. Damnit, Finch. I wanted to slap the back of his head for such a loud way of breaking in, but then again he's done that several times by then. Reminding myself of that little fact, I leaped down into the square hole to pay this supposed informant a visit.

Slamming my boots onto Finch's body, crimson red came splashing out like a fountain from his mouth. The bottom halves of my jeans turned from blue to red that day.

"Gagh! Goddamn!" I complained as I stepped off of Finch.

"Aw, it's just blood, ya fuckin pussy!" FF got himself back up from the ground.

I handed Finch his weapon, "You say that like you're not the only one who drinks it! Well, maybe Brock James of course."

"Didn't need to." He corrected, "Only got half-infected. He-"

Once our focus was back in place (as possible), we finally took the moment to notice the third guy in the room. He wasn't at all pleased by our presence. You can tell that whenever someone points a gun at you with a face that looks like you just shit your pants. Must be very normal for those who meet Finch for the first time.

"Fuck!" He panicked as he stood in front of a bunch of high-tech computer screens, "Y-y-you're him!!"

"Think he's talkin to you, Finch." I felt the need to remind my friend before turning to LUNA's secret guy, "Where's LUNA's other base??"

I noticed the sharp increase of the man's bodily earthquake, especially with his handgun. "I don't have to tell you shit!" He was in no place to give answers despite his obvious panic, "You f-" Too bad nobody told him you shouldn't be shaking with a gun in your hand, otherwise it'd probably slip, which it just did, hitting the solid, cold floor. If he wanted to get it back, he would've needed to reach down and grab it under two seconds, but that ain't exactly possible when there's a maniac and levelheaded militiaman in the same room.

"Wow!" Finch glared down at the gun on the floor, "Looks like somebody hasn't been doing preparation! You'd think for someone who's gotten the memo, they'd start running simulations of how to evade a break-in! Poor choice of characters, Seth!"

"Who?"

"Nothin."

Because I had zero trust in my friend doing the job properly, I became the one to walk up to the dude, grab him by his buttoned shirt, and slam him against one of the computers.

"I'll ask again!" My voice raised and let in some aggression, "Where's the rest of LUNA?? Hell, where the hell's Brock James??"

The man let out a couple coughs before speaking out of fear, "I don't know!"

"Said the guy back in the office building!"

"Aw, shit! So that's why I couldn't get a response this whole morning!" He garbled, "It was cause of you assholes!"

I tossed his sorry ass on the floor, setting nicely close to my crazy friend, "Yeah! Now think fer a moment of what might happen to you if you don't give us the information we want!" I set one boot on his chest, "And if you don't, I'll let my buddy provide assistance!"

"Alright!" The guy finally gave in and decided to tell us what we wanna know, "Fort Steel!"

Finch and I exchanged looks, "The old missile silo?" I raised an eyebrow, "That place hasn't been in use since the 60s. I should know. The hell he'd be doin in there?"

"Probably to nuke the whole city if that fucking maniac kept fucking up our shit!"

I needed a moment to think that comment through, "No. Brock can't be that crazy. He's no..." My thumb pointed to the lunatic, "...you know."

"No, but he's pretty determined to get Finch." He said.

"Well, that's what happens when you're a corrupt prick." Finch noted in response, "American Justice will come fer yer neck-biting ass."

I turned to Finch, "What do you mean?"

F didn't look back. He kept all focus on the downed informant, "Let's just say enemies are meant to be killed, not become the items in yer personal candy store."

"I see." For a second, I took a moment of silence, "So now what?"

"Oh that's easy!" Finch aimed his M1911 at the informant, "We kill this cocksucker, then we storm that military base, and kill Brock James!"

I immediately snatched his own gun from his hands, "I think killing James will be enough to bring an end to LUNA!"

"Fine!"

Handing F's handgun back, I assisted the man in getting himself off the ground.

"Leave." I ordered him with aggression, "Right now. And don't worry about the equipment. We'll be taking it."

The LUNA informant looked up at Finch, who held his M1911 by the barrel. He turned to me.

"But I need this stuff." He resisted at first.

"Don't care." I walked up to one of the many computer terminals inside the basement, "And leave the city too."

"...Okay."

And without anymore hesitance, the informant left the room, using the trap door to get the hell out. The new lack of his presence just left Finch and I inside, and that guy's high-tech equipment.

"Whatchya thinkin?" Asked Finch.

I moved my hand across a keyboard that was illuminated by the glowing screen in front of it.

"If we're gonna annihilate LUNA...then we're gonna need every edge we can get." I soon walked away from the screens to confront Finch, "We need to go back to the hotel, get ourselves ready for the base. We'll grab this stuff later."

In response, Finch nodded with a grin on his face, "Just the second-in-command I need!"

"...Thank you..."

Chapter 12

Where The Heart Is...

John Phillips

"So, I said..." Hock spoke beside me by F's car, "...That's not how you get high!"

I leaned against the trunk of the Urban Kommando, "...So this guy literally ate crystal meth?"

"Yeah!" He reached for a skittle in his bag, "But...haven't we all?"

"I'm sure if Finch put meth in his mouth..." I noted to my low-IQ'd friend, "...It'd be for the hell of it, not because he utterly thinks that's how you can get high."

"Finch does seem smart." Said Hock, just after he munched on a single skittle.

To that, I needed to remind him, "Finch...is a terrifying maniac who thinks he's in a novel. You say he's smart, but that don't mean you should listen to a lotta what he says."

"Aw, I think he's cool!" My friend persisted to protest.

"I just saw this man steal a dog, massacre a compound full of militiamen, that blew up randomly I might add, kill a few gangbangers, and get the attention of some old paramilitary organization bent on nothing but his grimly death. Yet...he's...slightly better than the assholes that probably want me dead now too."

"What about me? Does LUNA want me dead too?"

"I hope not."

Noticing somebody hold something in front of the ATM next to the hotel entrance, my eyes slowly perked up, only to notice yours truly as the one using the machine. It took me a moment, but I soon cocked an eyebrow when I realized Finch had held a cat before the ATM screen. What the hell? I couldn't resist asking myself internally. But the more important question should've been: Where in the hell did Finch find a cat?

"I GOT IT!!" Shouted Finch in an even more deranged voice than normal, "I FOUND A STRAY CAT!!!! NOW EAT IT!!!"

"Uhh..." My pupils were glued to Finch as he performed his latest antic, "...Finch?" Don't know why I decided to speak up but I digress.

His entire head turned around the second I said his name, "Yes?" He asked so casually, like he totally wasn't losing his goddamn mind like so many times before. The cat even swiftly escaped his usually-tight grip. And boy, did it run off. Who on the planet wouldn't?

"What're you doin?" Asked my good buddy Hock.

"Oh..." Never once had I seen this man act so awkward in front of me, "...Making...filler."

I needed a moment to speak up, "Can we head up now?"

"Yeah! Absolutely!"

"Good!" I smiled, "Let fucking go!"

Now that FF's bullshit was over and dealt with (for now), we could finally get on to getting back in the hotel. Brock James and the rest of LUNA were in our grasp and there was Finch wasting our time under the influence again. Heading inside, I curled my lip and looked straight forward as two police officers passed by. Only after we were halfway to the elevator, I took it upon myself to turn back out of cautious curiosity. Huh...They're pretty stocked up for a couple cops patrolling a hotel. One had a Benelli M4 and the other an AR-15 ready to go in case of a gunfight. Having entered the elevator, I didn't fully think much of it, just a little weirded out at the sight of them. But then in dawned on me going up. Finch Ferris owns a room in this hotel. Ohhh...shit. Goddamnit.

I finally turned to Finch to say something, "Uh, F. Did you notice something off about the cops down there?"

Finch shook his head in denial, "Nah. Why?"

"Your mere presence. And they got the guns of a SWAT team."

"But they always have'em whenever I see'em!"

I kept staring at him unamused, "And nobody should be surprised by that in any circumstance. But something happened here while we were gone."

"Well, you know these fucking cops." F said, "They'll lock a man up fer 10 years just fer smoking a joint in a street corner. Then they'll take that very joint and smoke it in their break room when no one's lookin. I'm sure every DEA Agent's hopped up on bath salts by now!"

I went back to looking forward, staring deep into the stainless steel doors, "Gee, you know what the military uses?"

"Ooo, confidential!" He couldn't say, "The Navy SEALs wanna come across as super! You Marines use steroids?"

Hock and I chuckled, "Probably those who feel the need to compensate for something. For most it's all-natural. I gotta ask..."

"Sure, anything."

"So...did you run with Brock James er something?"

"LUNA? Yesiree! Funnest years of my life!" He spoke positively, "Traveled, fought assholes, monsters, couple tyrants here and there. You woulda loved it. Too bad BJ fucked it all up."

"Whatja do when you left?" I asked with curiosity.

"Ran off with the non-assholes of LUNA. Made a crew, an awesome crew! We went state-to-state. We robbed, lied, hurt people, and made money off it!"

"So you were a gang of bandits and outcasts?"

"A crew of bandits of outcasts, John." He corrected, "The Crew."

"Hm..."

We reached our destination. The doors opened sesame. With great haste, I led the two back to our room. By the time we got there, I stopped in front of yellow tape which bRudyd the open doorway. I let three cops come out of the room without saying a word, especially with the deranged maniac just behind me. That can't be good. Having checked behind to find the cops gone, I lifted the yellow tape to let the two in before welcoming myself inside.

"Son of a..." I muttered at the horrors before us.

Goddamnit, an irritated thought came to mind. Just what I need to shorten my chances of staying in the city. I had the misfortune of bearing witness to the tattered remains of Finch's once-luxurious hotel room. The chairs, walls, windows, and even the TV (as if it couldn't be damaged even more) were ridden with more bullet holes than an old battlefield. The place even smelled like one too. Just by walking a few feet into the room, I nearly tripped and smashed my own skull by bumping into a fallen M16 just casually laying on the crimson floor. What also laid next to it? A familiar face, well, not personally, but it was one of my fellow Sons of Missouri who had a hole in his forehead, and just from checking the other areas of the living room, I was quick to find out he wasn't the only one, nor the only group who went guns blazing. I was sure the cops wanted payback for their losses, and weren't looking to cut them anytime soon.

Knowing the only other enemy that stayed there, I turned to Finch with contempt again.

He noticed my stare, "What?"

"What did you do?" I asked without a shred of anger.

"About?"

"My ex-friends being in here?"

"Well..." He looked off into the lake of corpses that complimented a place of his presence, "...I did raid their compound an killed a lotta them."

"Oh, so that you who blew it up?" The blazing memory came back to me.

He shook his head in denial, "Nope."

"Really?" I found that very hard to believe, knowing Finch himself, "You sure you weren't tweaked out when you decided to pull that shit?"

"Hell no!" He lingered in silence for a couple seconds, "I only found some after."

Finch decided to walk further into the lead-filled hellhole that was somewhat his fault. By then, he dropped his own ass on the couch as if the TV was perfectly functional.

"Eyovee? Ya still there?"

"Yes, Mr. Ferris." A soft, mechanical voice said out of nowhere, "Thankfully the local militia and authorities had not damaged my module. It would be quite unfortunate if that happened."

"The hell's that?" I stood behind the fucked up couch, "Your AI?"

"Nope, the hotel's! But I do plan on taking him once I leave! You and Hock plan on coming with?"

"Well..." I planted both hands on the soft ledge, "...seeing as you annihilated my home and killed some Illuminati military guys, I have no choice but to tag along and endure more of yer shit!"

"Hey!" He snapped, "That's not how you-" For a brief moment, he looked around the room, "Hey, where's Rudy? And where the hell're the cops if this place just got shot up?"

"Yes, your pet dog was taken by the authorities." Said the AI, Eyovee, was it? Finch sure can come up with some weird names, "Erm...after the gunfight."

"WHAT!?!?" Finch sprang from the cushion, "They took Rudy!?!?"

"Affirmative."

"Where?" Hock shut the door.

"I overheard some of the officers as they took him." Eyovee explained, "They suggested taking Rudy to the precinct."

I glared out the big, cracked windows, "The hell they'd take'im to the police station for? Isn't there some animal control place we can break'im out of?"

"Not that I can detect. So I guess... you'll all be-"

"Fuck yeah!" Finch cocked an assault rifle, "Nobody takes peoples' doges and get away with it!"

"But what about the military base?"

"Ooo, I'd love to kill that Brock James prick!" Finch approached me with an excited voice, "Just gotta do this one thing before we get our birthday present!"

He started making his way to the door.

"Finch!" I wanted to say something before he did anything, "We can't just storm into a police station and kill a buncha cops just to rescue a dog!"

"Why the fuck not??"

"Yeah, John!" Hock chimed in, taking FF's side, "They have his dog!"

"Yeah!" I agreed with Hock just as my boot touched the head of a bloody corpse, "The cops! The fucking Five-0! This ain't like going after a shattered army of mercenaries!"

"So fucking what!?" Finch resisted, putting one boot over the stomach of a dead man, "Cops've been after me fer two weeks now!"

"...Two weeks?" I wondered for a second, "How come I rarely run into police whenever I'm with-...aw, son of a bitch! Still don't matter though. We're still walking into a death trap, well, for Hock and I."

"Oh, live a fuckin little!" F tossed me a G36 loaded with an extended mag, "Let's go, Hock!"

Before I could protest more, the two proceeded to walk out of the annihilated hotel room to get the dog back. Taking a huge sigh, I took one last look around the room to assess the damage, coming to the conclusion that I shouldn't stay long. Who knew how long it would've been when the cops came back, and I was in no mood to encounter the authorities as I was dealing with an anti-authoritarian lunatic and a paramilitary force pretending to be the authorities. Hoping to catch up, I left the room with great hesitance, knowing that I was about to take part in the second-most craziest bullshit before the number one...

Chapter 13

Missouri Finch-0

Finch Ferris

So...they thought they could take my dog without telling me. They thought they could get away with it forever and live. But most of fucking all, they thought that I wouldn't say "they thought" in the same fucking paragraph three fucking times because I was seriously pissed off!!! Well guess what!?!? I just did it and Shadow Rose just fucking written-I mean typed it!! ARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!! This is your fault, Shadow! Just had to write that in just so you can give me a struggle to overcome?? You didn't have to involve a poor dog into my shit too! Well fuck you! I'll show ya how a protagonist overcomes struggle! You just keep reading!

Anywho, to get back to the plot, John, Hock, and I got into my oh-so-lovely car and took off into the one kinda place I knew all too well: A police station! Every cop I killed had always said I was going downtown, in this chapter I really was that time. But fear not readers! For I, being an ex-Navy SEAL and ex-commando, know what toys to bring for the playset...that being guns, silly! Lots of them! But don't feel too bad now, they were probably corrupt anyway. John was right, I mean, where were these pig bastards to make my militia killing more exciting? Oh well.

"Finch." John stopped me a house and a pizza parlor's walk from the precinct's entrance, "You sure you wanna do this shit?"

I turned to John, "The hell's wrong with my plan?"

He briefly gave me a pissed off face, "Your plan sucks the dicks of three donkeys and an elephant!"

"Wha-...It so does not!!" I got pissed off myself, "My plan's awesome! All you've been doin was complain like my other John friend!"

"Then he must be a very smart guy!"

"Hey, fuck you, John! Now c'mon!"

"How about this?" Eesh, he sure didn't let up, "How about Hock and I head down into the garage and make our way up...so that we can kill as many cops as we can?"

I needed a second to process JP's suggestion.

"Good idea!" I eccentrically agreed with his idea, "Make every single one of those cocksuckers pay!" I started making my way toward the entrance, "See you all on the other side!"

Ah, he'd be a great right-hand-man, or sidekick if you wanna get all superhero-y on me.

Anywho, I made my way to the precinct's entrance, armed to the teeth and ready for action! I kicked open the front doors, shattering the glass, leaving tiny shards to fall like little snowflakes. With just a few steps inside, I found myself ten more away from a front desk and a couple officers take their eyes off their computers, presumably trying to erase evidence of bribery and assistance to gang murders from their own database.

"What the..." I could hear one mutter to himself.

"Holy shit!" The other yelled, jumping off his chair and nearly knocking his computer down with his hand.

"The hell do you think you're doin??" The first cop angrily asked, whipping out a handgun from his holster.

"I'm tryna get my dog back!" I held the LMG's butt stock against my shoulder ready to aim, "And revenge on you bribe-taking pricks!"

The other raised his own weapon, "Come any closer and we will fire!" He warned.

"Ooooo, tough guy!"

CHUCHUCHUCHUCHU! The first thing I shredded into oblivion was their desk, and the cops! Only a couple shots came out of their guns as my first few bullets came soaring, but they weren't enough. Without taking the time to admire the view or loot, I already made way for the glass door next to them, which slid open the second I got near.

As I entered, I found myself in the office area, populated by even more cops. Most of them were in their own, little desks wasting away drinking coffee, eating their donuts, browsing the internet looking for something to masturbate to. My head tilted by their overall non-attentiveness despite having just walked into their fucking office! I mean, where's the fun in that? Only a pussy spy would take joy in slipping inside undetected while he never fires a bullet!

But finally, one of the pigs perked up from his desk to look off into something that didn't belong in his little habitat: Me!

"What the f-" His first ruthless instinct was to grab his gun just like his dead buddies from the front desks, "We got an intruder!"

His circle-jerk buddies soon took notice of my presence, doing the exact same thing as they took cover behind various furniture. CHUCHUCHUCHUCHUCHU! I started firing running across the room as they began firing in my direction. BLAM-BLAM! BLAM-BLAM! BLAM-BLAM-BLAM! Shit-tons of bullets made passes at one another with no sex as they reached their targets. As I ran, I was able to see I managed to kill a few of those pricks on the way to the next area.

"Take that, cocksuckers!" I yelled just seconds away from another glass door which was on the other side of the office area.

VOOOOM! This one also automatically opened up for me. Clearly, they weren't smart enough to have some scanner or high-tech camera check for criminal records. Probably because they did what I do every day, just with badges and shitty uniforms! Anywho, dashing through the doorway, I ran into the next area of the station: The jails! Well, more specifically the registration area it seemed as there were still nothing but desks surrounded by sterile white walls. It was like walking into a hospital! As I came inside like a nerd seeing a hot celebrity, the guards were already preparing themselves for me. Awesome! Two groups of officers lined up in front of the two pathways leading further into the area, each armed with shotguns, rifles, and a couple riot shields. One lined up in front of the closest path taking a right, and the other that lead straight ahead to another doorway.

Not even bothering to arrest me, both teams lightened me up until I was to be a piece of cheese. Well they weren't gonna take me alive! I resumed unleashing bullet-ridden fury against the cops. 3 from straight ahead went down like horny prostitutes in the hills! I spread the love to the other group. Most got cockbRudyd by one of their riot shields, only one prick got grazed in his shoulder. Didn't matter to me one bit! As I took the right path, I took the chance to get hands on with some of the officers, mostly their necks, well, two to be precise, and one jaw.

"Holy fuck!" One of the pigs from the other team shouted.

"Shoulda never took that money!" Another said.

One cop managed to grab me by the neck and thrash me against a wall.

"Lemme guess..." I attempted to respond to that guy's lamenting comment, "...LUNA?"

"That's right!" The very cop who was trying to up, close, and personal with me admitted with pride before a fall, "We all gotta make a living, don't we?"

"Yup!" I grabbed my M1911 and put it up against his chin.

BAM! One shot got him to stop being annoying! But I wasn't done with that baby yet. BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM! I fired a few more at the others, killing the closest and the rest from the other squad. I snatched my M60 so I could have more fun inside the station and started making way to the other side of the room, which only revealed another way to the actual jail cells but there was one other door to the right that seemed to lead somewhere else. Hmm...now I wonder what's in there? For a brief moment, I opened it and took a small trek across a short hall leading to another door. When I got close, my hardened dick wanted out of my pants as I laid eyes on the shit-ton of guns stacked in shelves inside the tiny room before me.

KA-KUN! I immediately kicked the door down. I headed inside to take a gander at the lovely weaponry they laid out for bad guys like me! Assault rifles, submachine guns, grenade launchers, an RPG, some grenades...where the hell was this shit whenever I killed cops in the other cities? Oh well! Since I already had an M60 in my possession, and in usage at the time, I decided to take only the F2000 and MGL, figuring I'd save'em for any Riot Control and SWAT fuckers I find inside.

Once I got my extra treats, I went straight to jail! Only instead of bringing a shank to give some inmates what was coming, I brought guns to show these cop pricks what happens you steal peoples' pets! Speaking of which, as I entered, I cRudyd out an officer huddled behind a jail cell, aiming down the ACOG sight of a marksman rifle. TUTUTUTUTUTUT! I sentenced some bullets to be his cellmates, ones that kill ya because you're a total cunt who steals fucking doges!! Two more popped up behind another. It was then that I took the moment to test the grenade launcher, POOK! I shot in one 40 mil round inside their little hiding place, BOOM! I blew that fucking cell up sky high! Nothing in there but human barbeque! Mmm, pigs!

Another SWAT team finally arrived on the opposite side, a six-man squad. Alright! I get to play with my new toy just a little bit more! I fired another round. The 40 mil ended up ricocheting off one of their riot shields, but still, BOOM! At least I still got to blow some more of them up! And there were still some left. I switched the gren-launcher for the F2000. PUTUTUTUT! One guy went down! PUTUTUTUTUT! So did another, leaving just one more to-

P-TOO! FEEEEEE! Oh yeah...those guys had a grenade launcher...a non-lethal variant. "Oof!" The grenade went right for my chest, knocking the rifle outta my hands, and my body to the wall. The imprisoned inmates cheered on seeing my ass kicked! How dare they! That pig was keeping them in their cells! Well they can kiss breaking them out good-fucking-bye!

"Agh! Motherfucker!"

I kinda got a little angry. So, I ran straight up to the pig, all while he kept trying to blast me away with those no-kill rounds, and grabbed him by his helmet. Once I pulled it away from his head, I slammed it right down onto his skull, KRRCK! The entire back of his head became the opened back door to his brains, and a wonderful human snowcone! Gotta get that energy, am I right? Blood can be the perfect substitute for Gatorade! It's the athletic motherfuckers you wanna get if you want the right amount of energy. If you want something a bit more sweet, I suggest somebody a bit more obese. McDonalds is full of those folks 24/7.

Alright! I'm done here! Kicking down the far door, I found myself in a narrow hallway, another home for all the drunks, gang bangers, and shoplifters who didn't become lucky. My kinda folk! Yet there were no cops to join in on all the fun, coulda been the only place to give me a challenge, and give some occasional mook dialogue! Oh well. I ran across the jails, giving my fellow, unfortunate criminals something to cheer for, unlike the dickheads in the past area! Surprisingly, and kinda pissed off, I left the hall using the door on the other side, stepping into a two-way intersection, each having a labeled door on each side. The right lead downstairs (labeled as such) to somewhere, probably the parking lot where John and Hock were taking the fight to the pigs, the other ("SOLITARY") was gonna take me to where all the kookier inmates were staying. I took the left door, figuring if Rudy was down there, John would've already contacted me by then, so I ran in.

Just as I made my grand entrance, the door shut itself automatically from behind.

"Uhh..." I turned around to see it closed, "...Is that normal?"

"Gotchya now!" Growled a voice from the speakers up on the ceiling corners with glee, "With a push of a button, you'll be surrounded!"

I looked around the area, eyes grazing past the steel, cell doors housing some of the more fun criminals to do shit with.

"With what?" I asked, "Cell doors?"

"Oh!" He chuckled as if he came from those cells, "You'll see!"

CLICK! Went off the locks of every cell from one side of the room, CREEEEE...they all begun to slowly open up to reveal the men of joy living inside them. Once the seals were open, all the inmates started walking out of their holes, many of whom looked like they came out of a war zone, scars and the like. Hell, some even had shanks in their hands with slasher smiles on their faces, one of whom I recognized from the meth party.

"Been lookin for ya!" Said that very meth party pooper, giving me a death stare.

"Ta-da!" I presented myself before him, "I'd bring a hat to pull a rabbit outta but I'm here to kill cops and find a dog. You seen one around here?"

He raised his blade in the air, "Killing cops sound like fun! But I still wanna make a leather jacket outta yer skin!"

"Hmm...If you insist."

Going back to my M60, I held it up to my hip, just like Rambo! TOOTOOTOOTOOTOOTOOTOO! They didn't provide much of a challenge. All of them went down like the pins after getting hit by a couple of big balls. Shit! Why'd I go an use my LMG?? Shoulda used my bare hands! Maybe...decapitate one head, throw it against another or...eviscerate one of'em and use his intestines to strangle his buddies? I don't fuckin know! Aw, who gives a fuck?? I got a dog to rescue! I stormed into the door on the far right corner of the room. In there had a bunch of surveillance shit and a guy to jack off looking down at the naked men and women of the law using the camera in the privacy of this little cave.

Since I was getting bored by the amateur writing of stepping into one room, kill a bunch of assholes, and busting down a door on the opposite side, I held my LMG against the base of his spiky-haired skull. This is what happens when you have a guy playing too many video games write a fucking novel! Might as well pitch this shit to an arcade while you're at it!

"Where's the goddamn dog!?!?" I kindly asked the surveillance guy.

The super-young guard panicked too damn much to say even a couple words, "Uh, uh...I don't fuckin know! I swear!"

I grabbed him by the back of his collar and threw his ass into one of the cam screens, "Bullshit! It's a motherfucking dog!! How the fuck do you not know where the fuck something like that can be???"

"Sir, can you limit your fucks?"

"Don't you fuckin tell me how many times I get to fuck people! It's a very natural thing!!"

"Bleugh!!" The guard became suddenly disgusted for some reason, "The hell've you been eating, dude??"

I took a minute to reflect on what I ate these past couple of days.

"Hmm...not much. I had some...pizza yesterday. Rest was just meth."

"Ugh!! You know that's a felony, right?"

"Hey, that's right!" I snatched the guy by his bright, blue shirt again, "How dare you all not have respect for peoples' rights! It's my goddamn right to hit bowls in a library as I read The Hunger Games, light bongs reading Harry Potter, and get shitfaced reading Twilight! But yet you pricks have the audacity to come in and put rounds in my chest before I even got the chance to rob a truck!"

"That all sounds very specific."

"Shut u-"

During the middle of our conversation, my eyes drifted over to the CCTV screens, clocking out footage of a firefight in what looked to be a parking lot. Ahh, there's my two homies at work! I expressed my internal proudness of John and Hock fighting off several SWAT operatives as they took cover behind a police cruiser. I also took notice at the other camera watching the same area to see more dead operatives laying on the dark concrete. So glad I showed up at the Chuck E. Cheese!

But then, I noticed something in the next screen; Two doors of a SWAT van popping open. Three cops slid right off the exposed edge, giving the ground a nice splash of red paint as they slammed down. And look who came crawling out with the torn leg of an officer? My best land-dwelling, sea pal Rudy! He was still A-okay!

"Rudy! I'm coming for ya, buddy!"

Throwing the guard out the closed window and grabbing my MG, I quickly took off from the surveillance room all the way downstairs to catch up with my friends. On the way down, I could see the pussy SWAT guys take refuge in the area, some bleeding profusely as their fellow pigs helped them recover.

"Scuse me!" I ran past them taking a rest on the stairs, coming across a door labeled 'PARKING' in black text on the glass.

With no time to waste, I kicked down the door, rushing into the awesome gunfight I only then had the chance to give my contributions toward. As I arrived, I stumbled into the sight of three individual SWAT men taking cover behind a couple cop cars parked in the middle of the lot. None of'em took the moment to notice me.

"Hey!" I shouted at the three, "You got a sea creature that don't belong to you!"

"What the..." One said as he and the others turned.

"Oh fuck, it's that guy they talked about!"

The third pulled his gun away from the direction of John and Hock, "Take'im out, now!"

"Wrong answer, buddy!" I held the barrel of my LMG, throwing it at the middle guy, taking half his head in the process. I then took out my M1911 and put a few holes in the one hiding by the car closest to the wall.

PAPAPAPAP! Four rounds went into my chest. My whole body got sent to the ground, taking in the stinging rush of pain running through my nerves.

"ARRGH! God...DAMNIT!" I clutched onto my new wounds, looking down to see more of that cyan substance, the very same serum used by LUNA the day I took the fight to them and one of their stoolies at the Chuck E. Cheese. And now, under the possession of a dirty cop in combat gear. How very low of you, Brock James, you blood-sucking cocksucker.

"FUCK YOU!" I used the rest of my 45. Cal rounds to kill the third cop, BLAM-BLAM-BLAM! Two going straight to his face, and the one to his neck.

"Finch!" Said John from a short distance away, "Finch!" He approached me as I laid on the concrete trying to get up. Thankfully, my friend was there to lend a hand.

"I found Rudy!" I announced excitedly to the two even with a few wounds, pointing at the opened truck ahead of us.

"Wait!" John attempted to speak up, not knowing that he can wait when we had a pet to save!

I took off from John to get to Rudy. By the time I came, he had just crawled out of the truck to get a bite of the officer's dead body. The poor little bastard was probably left to starve by those damn cops! Oh, now they're really gonna fucking pay! I made a vow as soon I dealt with LUNA and Brock James, these cop fucks were gonna get their cocks and vaginas handed back to them! You don't take a man's pet and starve it to death thinking you got the biggest dick in America! These pricks are just like the fucking military!

But anywho, I got Rudy back! I missed the little motherfucker! As soon as I came close to the dog, I instantly lifted him off the ground to give him a big hug. Just like a child and a mother. The father can go fuck himself for being an abusive prick.

"Oh, I fuckin missed you!" I yelled to Rudy, gripping him as lovingly tight and long as I could.

John eventually spoke up, "Uhh...Finch?"

"Hey!" I turned to JP, pissed off he had the nerve to chime in unannounced, "Can't you see I'm having a tender moment with Rudy here!?!? You should give Hock a hug in appreciation for'im to endure yer pussy ass!"

"Uh, I'm doin just fine! Just wanna say we should kinda leave because the c-...I mean, so we can kill LUNA and get the jump on Brock James."

I gently put Rudy down, "Hm..." I pondered, "...You're most certainly right about that!" I let the dog frolic around the parking lot, and walked up to John and Hock, "Let's get those cocksuckers!"

With our big rescue complete done and we were all finally reunited into one big, happy family again, we left the station and made it back to the Kommando. By then, it was time to get back at the neck-chomper and his little BDSM minions for trying to kill me and bribe the cops into taking my pet dog! Oh ho ho ho, Brock had another thing coming if he thought he could fuck me in the ass with that cyan jizz again. Well not this time!!! He wasn't gonna screw us all over like he tried to do with John Adoniyah, Justin Maxson, Ice-Blade, Slayer, and uhh...whatever members Shadow Rose comes up with in future books, either Ruthless Instinct or in cash-cow series of their own. Yeah, that's right, Shadow! I called it! You're-

-cocksucking-

And you can shove your superhero dolls up your ass! Hey, what the fuck!? HEY!! How fucking dare you delete a whole goddamn paragraph! Yeah, you're a shining example of a writer who doesn't give a shit about censors. How about you save that shit when you're in a church!? Maybe save a sermon you can give after the reverend goes on his 130th rant that week on how homosexuality is sinful or some other Biblical shit so you can talk about how novels are corrupting the literate?? That's how you sell LGBT novels!

Chapter 14

All Along The Ferris Wheel

Finch Ferris...for the final time?

This is it!! This is it, baby! We, my pseudo-intellectual, virgin friends, are at the end of the line! Brock James was gonna meet the end of my blade, and the barrel of my gun for pissing me off this whole trip! With awesome friends, a cool pet, and my excellent leadership, what could possibly go wrong?

What do you mean everything can and will go wrong!? Aw, fuck you too! C'mon! Have a little goddamn faith! Give your audience some hope, eh? You can't just go wailing through life expecting God or Lucifer or Buddha to bring hope to your door and offer you America's best handjob in the comfort of your bedroom! You want a happy ending, you gotta kill what wants you killed to get it! That's how you get the woman and million dollars!

Anywho, lets get to it, shall we? So...there we were, jacking off at the front entrance of the old missile factory. Well, I was mostly. John was scouting out the area with the ACOG of the M4 I was generous enough to give him, Hock was taking a piss on the opened electric gate, and Rudy was doing what J was doing at the top of the Urban Kommando. Once I finished up, I caught up with John by the car.

"So whatchya got in mind?" I asked him as I grabbed an M16, loaded with a red dot sight and extended mag, from the hood, "Cause I was thinking the ol'fashion commando warfare!"

"Yeah, dumb plan." He shot my idea down in the matter of a second, "We pull that shit, then every LUNA goon'll be at our throats."

"So what??" I said, "It'll be fish in a barrel!"

John took his eye off the ACOG, "Not all of us have a healing factor, you know."

I smiled at my melancholic friend, "No, but you'll have shit-tons of fun!"

For a moment, he gazed into my eyes, not looking pleased.

"...Let's just do this." He looked over to Hock, "Hock, let's-"

ZZZZZZT! An electric noise made me shift my attention to the gate. I was lucky enough to see Hock, with hair as straight as a man claiming to be a good Christian (he's probably not!), laying on the dirt with his dick sticking out.

"The hell happened??" Asked a panicky-ass John.

"I...tried to pee." Hock took his sweet-ass time to answer.

"No shit."

"Well..." I took off from the two, "...I'm off to go save the world, see ya!"

"Finch, wait!"

Separated by a roadway of nothing but dirt and spilled toxic waste, I sprinted my way across to the guarded entrance of the old missile facility. I also kept my M16 handy in case any of those pricks were actually out there jerking one another off waiting for something to shoot. Oh, they'll have somebody to shoot at alright, and I'm gonna...um...shoot them! Yeah! I'm gonna shoot'em all in their fucking faces! Damn sobriety! My dialogue and narration would be so much better if I had some meth!

And whaddaya know? There were two cocksuckers guarding the tattered gates. One was probably masturbating (like I said) by a lone tree and the other was just jerking around standing by the entrance. Eager to give'em a nice chat, I walked right up to the two while John and Hock were busy.

"Hola, amigos!" I greeted the men without warning, "You all remember me?"

"Oh fuck!" The guy guarding the entrance cocked his AA-12 shotgun out of panic, "It's him!"

I could see him point his gun up at my head with shaky hands, "Now, that's not very friendly!"

BOOM! No, he wasn't! He put one shell into my stomach like it was nobody's business. It sure was mine cause it hurt like hell!

"AGH!" I felt the instant pain rush to my brain, collapsing to the ground on all fours, "COCKSUCKER! MOTHERASSFUCKER!"

Holding the M16 with one head, I immediately raised it at the commando and blew his head off, TATATATAT! His buddy finally took notice to my presence, turning away from the tree to give me a good look at his dick. Wasn't bad I'll admit. Before he had anything else to grab with two hands, I put a few rounds into him too. Just in time too as I heard John and Hock arrive.

"FUCK!" I shouted at the sky, taking in another wave of stings from the fresh shell wound that asshole was so generous to give me.

"See, that's why you don't go rushin in!" Said JP as he gave two pats on my shoulder but didn't have the courtesy to help me up, unlike Hock, who was nice enough to provide assistance in my time of need! Selfish prick.

"Aw, fuck you too!" I looted a silver necklace owned by the exposing guard, "Now, c'mon!"

With an extra walk to make across the toxic road, we finally made it to the real entrance of the facility. And boy was it populated! Even from the distance, I could notice two Humvees shielding most of the two, rusted steel doors leading inside. Guards were everywhere; The ground, the two sniper towers overlooking the entire area, the metal, fortified walkway stationed just above the doors held up by two sets of stairs on opposite ends. These assholes were prepared, that or the assholes before them.

Approaching the true entrance with an M16 in my hand, I pranced up to the little space between the two Humvees, ready to give my grand presentation.

"Hello, assholes!" I shouted at the commandos as loud as possible, "How the fuck are you all???"

Just as I expected from rude house owners, each one of them took notice of my presence and made their weapons useful.

"Well, well, well..." Said a clapping guy from the platform above the entrance, "If it ain't Finch Ferris, after all this time."

I easily made out the voice, one I was quite familiar with a few years ago. Looking up at the asshole in particular, I recognized with zero difficulty the raven hair, pale skin, and the cyan symbol on his left cheek.

"...Brock fucking James!" I called out his name from the ground, "Nice to see you again! How've ya been?"

"Getting by. Recovering." He said, "No thanks to you."

I smiled at the knowledge of the deserving series of predicaments I threw in his face years ago, "Just doing my part for the community!"

Brock did nothing but smugly laugh, "And here you are, standing by a lowlife militiaman and a dimwit, petty drug dealer. No John Adoniyah, no Slayer, no Justin Maxson. That yer new Crew, Ferris?"

"And there you are, standing behind a bunch of yer circle jerk buddies!" I had a comeback in mind just for him, "Now that's what I call polyamory!"

"Only a polyamorous man would say such a thing...Mr. Ferris!"

"Hey, who hasn't engaged in threesomes or foursomes at one point in their lives? I do it in every party!"

"Whatever you say." He walked up to one of his men, "Kill him." He ordered before walking off like an idiot supervillain who doesn't have the balls to kill the protagonist personally. The hell's up with those kinda antagonists? You'd think if they'd make it their MO to kill the protagonist, they'd do the fucking job themselves! Am I the only supervillain willing to go the extra mile??

Well, it didn't matter, because he still became a pussy and left. Eesh, and I used to remember Brock fighting his own battles. So...it was just me, John, and Hock standing before a platoon of commandos, all eager to suck BJ's dick...hehehe...sucking BJ's dick. Get it?

John gazed ahead in awe of the well-armed troopers, "Uhh..." He started to slowly back away from the guns staring at us, "...We should take cover."

I turned for a brief second to see the two reversing from the awesome fight that was gonna happen, "The hell're you two doin?" I asked as they took shelter behind the two Humvees I stood between.

"Staying alive!"

"This ain't a Bee Gees concert! Get over here!"

"Well this ain't a Mortal Kombat tournament either!" Retorted my smartass friend.

"Well, fi-"

BOOM! One single blast of a powerful weapon went off from behind me.

"GAGH!" Aaaannnnd, much like an erect penis, it penetrated my back, shattering my spine for just a brief second, "GODDAMNIT!!! FUCK!!!" The force was big enough to send me to my knees, and I only get down for two reasons, eating pussy and sucking off, so whoever pulled that shit can go fuck themselves!!!

Thankfully, John learned his lesson from the other time I got shot and pulled me to the Humvee he hid behind. And he was also nice enough to get my gun back, just seconds before the Humvees' armor becoming swiss cheese by the millions of oncoming bullets, all in attempts to kill us.

"Thank you!"

John sighed, "You're welcome...ya damn maniac."

The bullets continued shredding the Humvees as my hands got comfy with the warm gun. Ready to end this book, I manned up and got up from cover, showing myself for all these pricks to see; My cue to shoot! BATATATAT! Said my assault rifle, firing off at the assholes up on the platform, only to ricochet off the steel armor protecting those who walked it. Well that didn't work, so I took cover again, then did the same to the couple of assholes firing from the doors. That time I got'em!

It was soon John's time to shine! As a squad of five men came running to our position, JP readied himself with the M4 I gave him, taking a brief look into the ACOG while staying in cover behind the vehicle. Having suddenly sprang up from the side of the hood, BAP-BAP-BAP-BAP! One round went into the heads of each LUNA fuck looking to get up, close, and personal, save for that one prick who just had to jump to the side.

"Son of a..." I could hear that very trooper say loud enough for us to hear.

"Hey!" I shouted at the last guy, "You come get killed right fuckin now!"

"Screw you!" He rudely retorted.

"Wow!" I said pissed off, "What a lovely way to treat guests!"

"Yeah, whatever!"

TINK! TINK-TINK! Something seemed to bounce off the Humvee in front of me until POOMP! It plopped on the dirt like a dropped baseball, or grenade. I looked down to see what the hell was thrown, only to find...it was a grenade.

"RUUUUUN!" Screamed John, briefly grabbing my shoulder to get me to run.

But it was too late, BOOOM! The explosion blew up the Humvee and tore me to shreds. Smoke fogged up the blast area for a few seconds until it all cleared out, giving John the chance to step in.

"Finch!?" He called my name.

"I'm here!" I responded, laying on the burnt dirt as just a head.

John ran up to me, "Uhh...you care to explain how you're still alive??"

"Aw, but that'd distract us from the fun we're gonna have!"

Luckily it didn't take long for me to regenerate back to normal. In just a few more seconds, I was up and ready to kill again! Only then I realized I didn't have a rifle to have my fun with! Those sacks of shit! So, getting back to playtime, I sought out the prick who blew me up, and shot him, in the face! Wow, that's a lotta commas for one sentence.

Well that became their cue to rain down bullets again, and ours to do the same behind the other Humvee, only to take cover because of the constant grazing I'd get from their soaring ammo. All I gotta ask recalling my time there was: Why the hell were two Humvees parked at the front entrance like that? Was that really their idea of blocking the doorway? They could've at least put some barrier in the path inside to at least block vehicles from getting in. Ah, who am I kidding? Sometimes it's just funner to run and gun than just sitting on your ass in the leathery comfort of your car, masturbating away at a BDSM book. I mean, it sounds like fun, good way to exercise the hands but when you got assholes to kill, you gotta have your priorities.

So anywho, enough meta talk, let's get back to the story, shall we? Because they were dumb enough to unleash every bullet in their current clips in one sitting, every single gun held by the present LUNA men clicked at nearly the same time. We on the other hand, still had ammo left! And of course we took the opportunity to get some good ol'fashion revenge!

BATATATATAT!

TATATATAT!

And uhh...BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!...Apparently John only trusts Hock with handguns, which I find a bunch of utter bullshit! Where's the real trust?? At least give him a MAC-10 or something!

Ah, who gives a fuck? We still killed'em all! I guess that's what happens when reloading scenes aren't written for you, that or the writer forgot to, for lack of a better word, write them.

Anywho, with those pricks done with, there were still more of them I itched to kill, including their leader! With the decision to go on foot instead of use my car, the three of us went inside the missile facility, taking the wide, rectangular tunnel that could've easily let the Kommando in, but nooooo! John insists we leave it outside because of Rudy! God, what a fucking pussy! *Sigh*...Such a great assistant.

Taking the tunnel down inside the facility, I kept getting more and more pissed off the deeper we went. Where the hell was everybody?? You'd think for being another base full of LUNA assholes, there'd be a shit-ton of'em!

KAKAKAKA! Oh wait, never mind. Gunshots went off from further down the tunnel, where there were more commandos, three judging by where we stood. With the combined might of our guns and gunfire sounds, they all came fumbling down...downer. Making it to the end, we caught up with the fresh corpses we made, finding ourselves in the parking area. The place was chock-full of old jeeps and vehicles hailing from the 50s and 60s. It was like these assholes just packed up and left, leaving their shit behind. But the area was still lit up and-PUTUTUTUTA! Had more of my old buddies, particularly a guy from the right side of the lot.

"Shit!" Shouted John, jumping to the side along with Hock. I on the other hand responded lovely with the prick who tried to shoot at us!

FKISSHH! But that cockfuckface still managed to get a shot at me, my leg I might add! "FUCK!" PAPAPAPAPAP! I blasted off at his sorry ass who tried to take cover behind a jeep. To my amusement, and revenge, one of the bullets was lucky enough to get his leg. HAHAHAHAHA! Now he knows how it feels! Take that, ya fuckcocksucker! TUTUTUTUT! Came more gunshots from the other side.

John fired back while still in cover, while Hock didn't do shit all because JP gave him a shitty pistol, "Finch!" He yelped, "Can ya help us, please!"

"Alrighty then!" I took off to the left side, but not before looting from the guy I shot for his gun...then proceeded to rip his throat out, "Only because you said please!"

Making it to the funner side of the parking lot, I approached the guys seeking to add spice to my friends' party. Lucky for them, I brought guaca-fucking-mole! It also came with a side dish of fruit punch, which easily comes out of the torn necks of assholes! KRRISH! Maybe a couple bullets to the head from two guns, PATATATAT-TOOTOOTOOTOO! And a couple to my stomach, "SHIT!"

"Okay!" I reached out to my buddies, "They're dead now!"

John slowly brought himself up from cover alongside Hock, "Please tell me you didn't rip his throat out..." All of sudden, I mean all of a sudden, damnit! John's eyes widened up, pointing up at something behind me, "Finch, look out!"

Buuuut, before I had the chance to turn, my neck took quite a hit from the bullet that penetrated my fucking neck!!! The force from the round pushed my face against the glass of the old 50s car I stood before, smashing it to shreds almost immediately, not that I gave a fuck. It was dirty as hell! Well, that and bloody now, and it's black too, that shit'll show!

"Damnit!" John took out a Glock. BLAM! One shot was all he needed to kill the asshole behind me. After helping a friend out in need, he ran up and gave a pat on the shoulder as I needed a moment to regenerate.

"Motherfucker!" I said to myself, "What the fuck??" Only then I noticed my voice sounded all gurgled and raspy.

John, clearly taking joy in my predicament like a dickhead, immediately needed a moment to laugh himself to death, "I think you still got that bullet in you!"

"Fuck! You're right! Hang on..." I tore my throat open to find the bullet, "Lemme..."

JP jumped back in disgust over something. Wasn't sure what though. Eh, didn't matter, besides, I found the bullet! Taking it out, I let the regeneration do all the work. John didn't look so pleased however. The guy looked like he was about to throw up.

"The hell's yer problem??" I had to ask.

He at least mustered up the strength to speak, "Are you fucking kidding me!? I just saw you rip your own throat out just to get a bullet out!"

"Aw, so what!? I do it all the time! Come to think of it, that bullet shoulda killed me. Guess BJ wasn't so generous with that ammo, that or Shadow Rose wanted to show the readers what I'm capable of."

"Can you please shut up?"

"Wha...Oh, fuck you! What's the matter, don't like fourth wall breaks?"

"I mean, can you please shut up so we can move on? To...kill Brock?"

I grabbed both my M16 and the MP5 I stole from one of the mooks, "Ohh...wouldn't wanna miss that!"

Having agreed that there was a LUNA headman in need of killing, the three of us made way to the door ahead leading deeper into the facility. But as we stood in the middle of the parking lot, the less-wider door we were soon to head through opened up. Another grouping of those cocksuckers came pouring in like liquid cocaine, each aching for a chance to appease their leader for a blowjob and anal sessions. Well, then I hope they brought lube because they're gonna get bullets instead of dicks!

"Oh, look!" I pointed out the assholes coming in, "Playmates!"

"Shut up, maniac!" One of them had his laser on my head.

I raised the two guns, "Ooo, I'm so scared! What a jackass!"

Gunfight time again! It was three men versus eight douchebags. With the power of dual-wielded weapons, I was able to pick off three of them before JP, H, and I jumped to one side of the lot again when the gunfire from LUNA's side was getting a little too crazy for my friend. I would've stayed up and kept going, but hey, I loved their company.

"Ahh, ain't this fun?" I asked John as I leaned against a green military car

JP didn't look so pleased with my question, "Uhh...no."

"Well fine then! You narrate!"

John Phillips

Well...this could've gone better. We could've snuck into the facility and took everyone out as silently as possible, but no! We go storming in like a bunch of raging bulls and ruthlessly slaughter everything that gets in our way! And he insisted on bringing Hock to the fight instead of leaving him with that damn dog!

Eh, guess there wasn't anymore room to complain there and then. We were all in too deep to just grab our guns and leave Brock James to do God-knew-what. I should know, because at the time we still had LUNA throwing all the bullets in their disposal at us!

"You have a plan?" Asked Finch with rudeness.

"Yeah!" I briefly inspected my current gun before getting up from cover, "Shoot'em!"

"Ooo!" Finch of course was in glee over my plan, "Me likey!"

For a small second, I peaked up over the hood to see what was ahead. LUNA was still going at it, one bullet was nearly lucky enough to graze the surface of the hood, but not enough to graze me, only the wall. Luckily for us, it became reloading time for our enemies. Having took my attention back to Finch, we exchanged nods as that was our, well, more like my cue, to come-a-runnin. I urged Hock not to take part, leaving Finch and I to spring out of cover and reign Holy Hell on LUNA.

TUTUTUTUTUTUT! PAPAPAPAPAPAP! The dogs bit back hard with pure lead onto the chests and heads of the commandos. Because it was all safe, each one of them came tumbling down like a set of dominoes. The parking lot reeked with gunpowder and smoke from all the hellfire we wrought onto each other with more loss than survival. Hock and I stood up from all that crouching to finally take a breather from all the hostiles that sought our deaths. Finch on the other hand, went up to the fresh corpses to claim either trophies, ammo, and/or sentient food. I sincerely didn't hope the latter.

"Shoulda thought this through." I muttered to myself as I passed the grouping of death without thinking about it.

"Aw, stop being such a Negative Nancy!" Quipped Finch before taking a bite of something in the middle of his sentence.

My head twisted only to catch F munching on um...an arm, and his red mouth.

"C'mon, man. Really!?" I forced my eyes to leer away as quick as possible to not get grossed out, "Must you do something atrocious every two hours??"

"Hey." His voice muffled from the raw flesh he chewed through, "Gotta make every chapter at the least interesting!"

I started making way to the wide doorway that led deeper inside the facility, "Pretty sure that bores people after a while!"

But I was too late. Fuck! The big door just shut on us, leaving Finch, Hock, and I stranded inside the lot with a bunch of dead bodies and the stenches that was soon to linger if we didn't make a move.

"Looks like we're gonna have to blow it open!" Finch suggested with eccentricity, an emotion I knew there and then I couldn't quench easily, definitely not when he wants to use explosives.

"Hell no!" I shot his idea down into the gutter, "We do that, either LUNA'll bring holy hell on us or this old-ass building."

"You got a better idea?"

"No. You brought explosives?"

Finch patted every pocket in his jeans to check for some. Didn't seem the case having judged by the constant utters of "Fuck!" and "Shit!" every two seconds.

"SHIT!" He shouted in the echo chamber known as a parking lot, "Left'em in the car!"

My attention shifted back to the big ramp we used for our descent for only a wasted effort, "Guess we'll have to find a backdoor. This is a missile facility after all. Every nuke needs an exit."

"Ahhh, I see!"

With no way inside, we were forced to head back outside. It was no help going further, not even with Finch making deep fist-prints into the steel door. As much as I had fears of whom stayed outside waiting to put an end to us, I urged Finch and Hock to join me in getting the hell out of the entrance so we could find hopefully a missile silo or command center building or something to get inside. Luckily, LUNA was smart enough to not send more troops to their deaths (just to meet a tweaked-out Finch Ferris wielding a sword) even as we made our way up the ramp leading outside.

By the time we made it out, my predictions thankfully didn't fully come true. Having readjusted to the screeching sunlight, I tightened my grip on the gun by the sight of one group of commandos securing the entrance, setting up a blockade for cover. As we made ourselves known with the stench Finch was giving off for not showering for a day or so, the eyes of each one of them widened up.

"There he is!" Yelled one, pump-action in hand, pointing at Finch as he jumped over the blockade for a brief moment of safety, "Take cover!"

His brothers-in-arms followed suit, taking advantage of the sleek, carbon structure to take some potshots at my crazy new friend. Lucky for them, they each carried that strange serum used to kill Finch, unlucky for them, F was still standing, jumping toward the blockade, well...halfway. By that time, I had already picked off one guy, but one gunshot was enough to get some of their attention on me, and to my misfortune, I had no vehicle to hide behind.

PAP-PAP! PAP! PAP-PAP-PAP! The rest unleashed semi-automatic fire just to literally bring me down. Too bad the bastards didn't take to account I had a bulletproof vest beneath my T-shirt because I was next to you-know-who. Just as they were gonna go back to bringing further punishment to Finch, I quickly snatched my rifle back, ready to bring swift injustice back to more of BJ's men.

But just as I was about to go about that, an engine roared out of nowhere. VRRRRRRM! Before I knew it, the rest of the commandos were pressed against the solid blockade as if some powerful force rammed them into it. With no other hostiles in sight (not even any observers on the platform above), I lifted myself and Finch up to investigate their deaths for myself, but not before checking out Hock, who got caught in the crossfire.

"Shit!" I rushed over to him as he held on to his wound, "You okay!"

Hock gritted his teeth, "...No."

"Finch, we gotta-"

"I got it!" He interrupted. I turned to F just as he slit his own palm and approached Hock. From there, he carelessly slapped his hand on Hock's wound, letting his own blood into my friend's bloodstream like it was the cleanest and safest thing in the world.

"Uhh..." I didn't have much to say about it though.

But my worries somewhat came to an end after FF oozed his own blood into Hock's. As soon as he was done, my friend slowly began to get up off the ground. The fresh hole in his Predator T-shirt had disappeared, leaving nothing but a red stain. Well that's...interesting. This guy's capable of healing not only himself, but others too, with just his blood. Ain't that scary? Next thing I was gonna find out is that he could raise the dead.

Oh yeah. I just remembered something. What the hell killed Finch's old buddies? I eventually stepped away from the two and jogged back to the blockade to find out how. When I approached the dead, I saw the Urban Kommando itself smashed against the bloody carbon structure. Its stainless steel spikes (some drilled inside from the troopers' torsos) stuck out of the grill like the razor-sharp teeth of a tiger. With those, the armor, and the guns installed into his car, all I could ask myself was: What fucking video games has Finch been playing to make that contraption? But more importantly, judging by the presence of only Rudy in the backseat, how the hell did it manage to get over here?

"Uhh...Finch?" I called the maniac's name as I took my eyes away from Rudy, "How did yer car get here by itself?"

Finch walked over to me and the Kommando, leaving Hock to come to us by himself.

"The power of apps!" FF grinned as he took out his smartphone, showing me the CarGo app I heard my fellow militiamen rave about a week before, "Very useful when resisting arrest!"

"And does that app let you activate the spikes in your car?"

"Nah. Does it by itself."

"Interesting..." I went out of my way to help bring Hock into the car, "...Let's just follow the road. I just wanna get the hell outta town."

Since the entrance wasn't gonna be any good for us anytime soon, we jumped back in to the Kommando and took one of the roads leading out of the 3-way intersection to find another way in. To my concern was the lack of LUNA presence as we tried to make it around the base, not even a stationary turret or some overconfident douche to jump onto the hood like an idiot just to meet the barrel of a gun from the other side of the windshield.

But with one drive over, we managed to find another entrance; The backside. Crashing through a gate, Finch just pulled us into a trap. They were waiting for us. Those who took position on the surrounding, concrete walls (making a square around the four silos) were nothing but LUNA commandos armed to the teeth. Did Finch care? Fuck no! He, like the lunatic he was, casually pressed an orange button on the driving wheel, cocking all the guns outside and spinning the miniguns on the hood, and a yellow one on the stick, which seemed to do nothing at first, at least from my point of view.

But suddenly, I begun to feel light even by just sitting in the black leather seat. I soon paid attention to the outside to see us at the same altitude as the commandos.

"What the..." My head tilted by the instant sight of being higher. Either the walls collapsed around us or we're being abducted by aliens.

I finally looked out through the passenger window to see Finch's car high above the ground. Even despite all the absurd shit I've seen installed to that thing, I had no resistance in the widening of my eyes from finding ourselves hovering in the fucking air!

"Ohhhhh..." I had no words to form with my mouth, just an expression of awe.

"Pretty cool, eh?" Said Finch, "Wait till you see what this baby can do!"

I turned to Finch, "Wait, what do you me-"

With zero warning, the car thrusted itself over the walls overlooking the silos. Because I didn't bother using a seatbelt like a normal person, I had to hang on to my seat just so I wouldn't bang my head against the glass and give Finch a free human lunch. With the vehicle hovering in front of a bunch of Brock's minions, the miniguns found their reason to spin, BVVVVVVVVMMMMM!!!! Both fired simultaneously, tearing the present armored folk to blood-splattering shreds. "Holy damn!" I yelled from inside the Kommando, witnessing the piles of human punch FF's guns made in just a few seconds. With more of those assholes to go, Finch took her up for a brief moment, clocking out the troopers who were firing up at us from the opened windows of the command center that faced the entrance like a group of living, breathing SAMs, no match for what he had prepared for them. P-KRRRFFFFFFF! One rocket blasted off from the roof, flying like the wind all the way down to the mooks ready to face their explosive doom, BOOM! The entire blast radius charred the center into black in the snap of a finger, leaving no further resistance...

Well, from the command center really. There was still one more group of commandos attempting to shred the car's armor as if doing that would reveal treasure. Finch sure took notice rather immediately, taking us over to them...and closer than necessary.

"The hell're you doing??" I asked my psychotic ally.

"Making pancakes!" He turned off the hover mode for just a few seconds, letting the car slam itself on the concrete platform housing the LUNA troopers.

SCRRRRRRRR! Finch put the wheels to ear-piercing work. With the pedal to the metal, the car accelerated its way toward the remaining hostiles. BUM! BM-BUM! BU-KSH! KR-BUM! The front spikes eventually showed themselves for the last guy, SKSSSHHH! Crimson red poured onto the black, reflective hood for the three of us to see, and Finch to slurp up once he was done.

"Alright!" Finch celebrated giving the death card to his latest string of victims, taking the car over the silo, "Let's get us a Brock James!"

Finch Ferris

Well, hello there, audience! Nice to see you again! Have you all had a nice time reading the narration made by the one, the only, John Phillips?...Hello?? Can you...Damn these books and lack of reviews before release!

Anywho, ready to read the tale of how I killed Brock James?...Aw, fuck it!!!

There I was, hovering above a missile silo, hands gripped on the wheel, two friends hanging on to their pants as I pulled up with the pedal to the metal. My Urban Kommando whooshed right on in as all guns were ready to fire with one push of a button. Having entered through the big-ass hole, we were met with open arms with the blasted lead of all the LUNA commandos I could kill, and the shit in John's pants.

SHKINK! Something metal-y struck my beautiful car! Well, when I mean struck, I mean something penetrated the fucking armor!!!

"What the fuck!?!?" I shrieked while driving...or flying, take your pick.

Well, fuck me joking! Now I had to pay for that armor again!! Do these pricks know how expensive it is to keep this baby looking awesome, especially when the cops come sniffing up your asshole every 5 hours!? It fucking costs more than what Shadow Rose would probably make when this book releases!!! Ah, they just made that shit personal, again!

"You motherf-"

Fuck me up the ass again! Descending all the way down to the metal floor, halfway passing through the gap between two 7-story platforms, the Kommando suddenly thrusted itself facing said platform before KRRRRSSSHHHH!!! Smashing the ground like a dropped pancake. Mmm mm...pancakes. So good with meth!

"You guys alright?" Asked John like a little compassionate boy scout, just like my old friend John...Adoniyah!

Hock needed a moment to speak up, "...Yes." He said all weakly. Eesh, somebody get that guy some steroids! Just might get him to compensate for his tiny pee-pee!

"Well, I'm off to kill Brock!" I opened the driver door, M249 SAW in hand, "See ya!"

"Finch, wait!"

Let's get to killing, shall we? Once I stepped outta the Kommando, it was party time for me and my machine gun! And boy, these pricks sure made it easy for us! With just three steps into the musty-ass missile bay, two commandos running out of one of the two platforms showed up for a welcoming party. CHUCHUCHUCHU! CHUCHUCHUCHUCHU! Two assholes, nine rounds, equals naptime, kids!

BATATATATAT! Oh look-I mean read! Couple more assholes came up from the other side of my car! Bing-bang-boom! They were both dead before deciding to hide behind the Kommando!

BOOM! Okay, maybe not fully for the case of one. "FUUUUUCK!" Fuck indeed! That shotgun blast hurt like hell! And I've been there once! But hey! I still had shit-tons of ammo left! TOOMTOOMTOOMTOOMTOOM! There we go! All dead!

Erm...well, not fully. Two whole fuck-tons of LUNA pricks occupied the two platforms between us, and there was a VTOL hovering above me halfway beneath the silo hole. The perfect elevation for the villain to make himself known!

And whaddaya know? The side door facing my direction opened sesame. The door unveiled the one, the only, priiiiiiiick!!!!

"Well, well, well!" Mr. Vampire spoke high up in his dick-shaped helicopter, "Good to see you, Mr. Ferris! Enjoying your stay here? Killing my men!?"

"Indeedy-do, ya fanged cunt!" I shouted from the bottom with a smile on my face, "What's it been? Two years? Three?"

"Far too fuckin long!" James cracked his knuckles, "I've long dreamt of this day, Ferris!"

"Hey, so have I! I jack off thinkin about it too!"

"How I missed your nonstop horniness." He briefly looked over to the cockpit before gazing back down, "Guess I can say I've had one last whiff of it!"

BJ soon took off into the cockpit, shutting the side door as he stepped away. I now had three piles of shit in the restroom to clean up! The assholes holding up the two platforms guns drawn and the armed VTOL piloted by the blood-sucking prick himself. Oh man! Who to kill first? Hmm...now that was a hard one if I remember correctly. Let's see...I had two groups of LUNA trying to pick me off from easily-accessible structures, and there was one leader flying around the area in an air vehicle. What do to, what to do...

PUPUPUPUP! Several shots came down where I stood, hitting the metal floor.

Alright, platforms it is! With a particular target in mind, I rushed to the closest one, but not without taking my LMG with me! Every man needs his tools! Taking the first of seven flights of stairs, avoiding lead from BJ's machine gun, I encountered my first enemy, firing away like a tweaking Rambo (even firing from the hip!). One punch to his face and I got to see the clear visor of his gas mask turn red! Well, that and fall flat on his ass on my...Hey!! He landed on the Kommando!

Anywho, continuing on. On the second floor, I found myself still not the only guy standing inside. Some other prick stood on the other end shotgun cocked. Having wanted to maintain my throwing skills, I uhh...what other football star's name could I use...Aw, fuck it! I Peyton Manning'd the damn M60 right toward his face! Man, with all that protective BDSM-ish gear, you'd think he'd somewhat live with just a fractured brain! Nope! He was dead! Oh well, he was LUNA anyway.

Alright! One floor cleared! Few more to go! Snatching up my good ol'machine gun, I headed up the next flight of stairs, withstanding all the henpecking bullets coming at me from the other side of the missile bay. Luckily, they weren't much of a problem since none of'em had that special sauce to send me back to Hell. Made sense, not like they much of it to go around, I made sure of that years back. Hehehe...let's just say I knew about Mr. James's little failsafe...He didn't like me making a big boom of things.

Back to the plot! After much narration, I finally made it to the third floor. And oh, what a coincidence! Three assholes guarding the area! Four shots to the chest, I made quick work of the guy closest to me. One swing, the next was dead, and the final one, I decided to go Rocky-style and give that man a fruit punch! One fist-clenching smack to his chest...oh, that's right, my hand went through him. I was wondering why blood didn't just splash out of his mouth. My mistake!

With those guys done with, I was already dashing through the snow with a...Fuck it! I made it up the stairs again! Killed four guys, went next floor! Fifth floor, two douches. Threw one off to be a pancake on ground zero and beat the other's ass with his own arm. Sixth floor, shot up three, tore the final cocksucker's head off. Alright! Seventh floor! Finally made it up top! And whaddaya know!? There were more guys guarding the final story, and they all had guns! And guess what? I had one too!

But you know what else they had? Some...harpoon gun turret at one corner of the structure. Why that was there, and how it remained so shiny in a highly-rusted facility was beyond me. But hey, it's Ruthless Instinct, nothing makes sense! Welcome to fiction. So...with a VTOL flying all over the place, I saw one good use of the harpoon, so I rushed over like a predator chasing his prey. Grabbing the handles, I aimed the shiny shark-catcher of death up at the VTOL and SHITAH! The steel penetrated the front side of the heli, stopping it dead in its tracks...more like the air.

"Alrighty!" I let go of the triggers, stepping away from the turret, "Now I can-"

P-KOOOSSSSHHHH!!!! Oh, fuck you! The damn vampire wanted to send me one goodbye letter, one with explosive words! BOOM! The rocket hit the turret just when I walked away from it. That thing went up like the 4th of July and the border between New Year's Eve and Day at the same time! Motherfucker! That one hit managed to free the heli from the harpoon's clutches! Shitcock titfucker!

Out of nowhere, there went P-KOOOOOOSSSHHH again. But at that time no rocket came out of the VTOL, but from the car I drove so dearly that hovered before the other platform also owned by LUNA, the Urban Kommando! BOOOOM! Went the hellfire missiles as they blew up the other side of the big, rotting area, annihilating the other structure entirely. Hooray!

"Son of a bitch!" Yelled Brock from the loud speaker in the Osprey, "Fuck this!"

Aww...It looked like Mr. Brock James was gonna run from the awesome fight. With no harpoon gun to stop him, Brock made a break for it to the hole in the ceiling. Lucky for me, John was nice enough to fly over and give me ride!

"Wouldn't be the same without Finch Ferris doing something insane one more time!" He said. He understood me so perfectly!

I immediately jumped onto the roof, "No it would not!"

"Uhh, shouldn't you be getting in?" He asked, popping his head up from the window.

"Nope!" I latched onto the side ends of the roof, taking the time to reach out for my M1911, "I'm gonna hitch a ride!"

JP put his head back in, "Well that'll be interesting..."

Taking off to the skies, John flew the Kommando all the way outside, giving chase to Brock James's Osprey while he tried to run like a pussy. It took a bit to catch up though. We were already miles away from the base and the city by the time we were close to the VTOL.

"What exactly do you plan on doing when we catch up to him?" John asked while keeping us in the air.

"I'm gonna kill Brock!" I said. I can't believe he asked me that!

"Before you kill Brock, how do you plan on getting inside the VTOL?"

"Well, let's see: For plot convenience-"

"What?"

"Shut up! For plot convenience, he'd have to open one of the doors to provide a way in!"

"If he were to do that, he'd probably have his troops shoot at us!"

"Exactamundo! Once I kill them, I head on in, then kill Brock! What's not to understand?"

"You're high up in the fucking sky!" He complained like a whiny teenage girl, "Speaking of which...why's the Kolossus hotel on fire?? Saw it on the way up!"

"I figured since you were such a pussy, you probably didn't want evidence of our presence, so I poured gasoline in my hotel room and set it on fire."

"Then why's the entire place in flames then??"

"I don't know! I did it before I left!"

"Goddamnit!"

Ah, here we here! We were finally close to the VTOL! It was my moment to do some cool shit one last time in this novel! Oh, and how convenient! What did I say? The back hatch opened up just as I was seconds away from eating Brock's face! It came complete with my old buddies trying to shoot me up as if bullets were gonna do the trick. Once I felt John was close enough to the asshole of the Osprey, I put lead into the two pricks guarding the hatch, killing them quickly. With those two gone, I jumped on in.

Taking a few steps forward, I pulled the hammer on my M1911, ready to put my past to pasture and start a new, wonderful life! The cockpit door opened up, and who walked out of it? You guessed it: Brock fucking James!

"Hey hey!" I greeted my former friend-turned enemy, "How ya doing?"

His serious frown morphed into a small smirk, "How I missed yer insanity." He cracked his knuckles, "Tell me, do you enjoy what you do? Killing people? Blowing shit up? Smoking crystal meth all the time all while...you think you're in a work of fiction?"

"And what the fuck do you do? Save the innocent? Give to the poor? Give free handjobs to horny virgin nerds in cosplay? You're a fuckin merc! All you give a fuck about is money! That's why ya did that shit all those years ago, did ya!?"

"Call it progress." Was all this dickfucker had to say.

I put my handgun point-blank to his forehead, "And I call this you're a prick!"

But this lucky fuck had a trick up his sleeve. He took the advantage of me being in his face to do some real douchey shit. James opened his mouth, morphing two of his teeth into sharp fangs, and did something you'd see in Twilight: HE BIT MY FUCKING NECK!!!!! I was his fucking Burger King meal!!!

"MOTHERFUCKER!!!" I took several steps back after getting bit, "YOU COCKSUCKER!!!"

"That can't possibly hurt you, Ferris." Said Brock, cracking his fists to prepare himself for kicking some ass, not that that'll happen anytime soon.

To his remark, I took my hand away from my so-called wound with a smile, "Hey! You're right!"

And to that, I charged up toward the prick and gave a fist delivery to his left cheek! "Fuck!" He muttered, just before I delivered another to his right! Wobbling back, he wasn't looking to go down quickly. Teeth clenched, Brock sent some punches my way, varying from either the face, chest, and the dick. I soon grabbed him by his shirt collar, launching the little bastard into the wall, giving it a nice Brock-print in the process. Guy sure wasn't done there. He finally took out a knife, doused in that cyan liquid, and lodged it right into my right ankle.

"FUCKSUCKER!" My whole body landed on its knees.

With the blade inside, I took that motherfucker out of my ankle as fast as possible. SHKINK! As it laid in my hands, Brock took the moment to get himself up for another fight. I took a single swing at his neck to show him what happens when you try to kill me, that and take my dog! But being a damn vampire, his reflexes were still better than the average motherfucker, so he bRudyd it in its path to throat-slitting glory. Thrusting my arm away, the knife fell to the ground for Brock to pick up.

"Ha!" He gloated before me, "Still had some of that stuff left!"

"Oh, I have some shit left too!" I came back at Brock.

"Oh yeah? What's tha-"

Without warning, I took off away from Brock, running all the way to the back hatch of the Osprey. There, the Urban Kommando waited patiently as it flew in BJ's sight. "See ya!" I gave him one last bird before jumping back onto the roof. "Hit it, homies!"

P-KOOOOOFFFFFF!!! John fired a single missile into the fuselage. You shoulda seen Brock's face when that missile came flying at him! Never once in my life did I expect that prick look so surprised to see such an kickass trick get pulled on him, and trust me, he's pulled plenty during my days with him. As we pulled away, BOOOOOOM! The hellfire blew the entire Osprey to shreds, leaving nothing but bits and pieces of burnt helicopter. Oh man! It woulda been nice to see chunks of BJ coming down as well! I needed some lunch!

The roof opened up. I crawled my way inside, landing right on the soft, leathery backseat just when the top instantly closed. Having had no reason to stay high in the skies, John flew us away from the falling debris.

"Well this was an adventure." He snarked.

"That it was, JP!" I continued to lay on the backseat next to Rudy to take a rest, "We killed some assholes, smoked meth, and blew shit up!"

"You smoked meth, Finch." Corrected John while keeping his eyes on the...sky, "I killed people and blew shit up. Hock...he stayed alive."

"Don't forget Rudy!"

"And he became your pet dog."

Rudy cuddled up next to me, "So...who's up fer meth?" I asked my new best friends.

"There's no way I'm smoking crystal meth." John rejected right away, "Especially after what I've seen you do."

I combated his reason, "Hey, it helps get the job done!"

"You mean aside from your healing abilities, super-strength, and high bloodthirst?" John soon sighed, slightly moving the Kommando downwards, "So now what? I just lost my old friends and my home, and Hock's got nowhere to go!"

"Hmm..." I sat up on the backseat, "We leave the city, take Hock's meth, and make a gang! Start over. We'll be called The Crew!

"Oh, you're crazy! And that's normal! We ain't going to another city just to deal drugs and stir up more bullshit! Don't we have enough problems with you running around??"

"Weren't you smuggling animals when I first came here?" My eyebrow cocked....hehehe...cocked.

John needed a minute to speak up, "...You have a point, Finch." My friend sighed again, "...I'll consider...your gang idea. You already fucked up my home and his job anyway."

"The Crew it is!..."

Chapter 15

Going Home Free

John Phillips

Well that was...interesting, to say the least of what I had to go through these past couple of days. I got paid by some weirdo to kill a drug-addicted maniac, I tried to kill said maniac, only for that man to go kill all my militia buddies, many of whom I had already betrayed long back by smuggling animals into the city just so some freaks could have some exotic pets, rescue me, and take me along to kill his own old buddies and their leader so we can bury the hatchet and start a new gang. I guess it's how the saying goes: You can't choose your friends.

Speaking of burying the hatchet, there was still one more thing Finch insisted on doing after dealing with Brock. Much to my reluctance, I flew his Urban Kommando car all the way to that damn hotel to get his stuff. Because of all that shit we done, I urged him to not have us go back to the same place where my ex-friends had a run-in with the cops just to get to Finch. I was too eager to leave the city once and for all. Who the hell knows what happened after the firefight. Those said cops did get killed after all.

But of course, Finch didn't listen being the psychotic jackass he is. Once I parked the car...right in front of the place where normal people could see, I took my time in awkwardly getting out. Finch just casually walked out like we were celebrities stepping out of a limo onto the red carpet, complimentary with folks staring at us.

"Finch, wait!" I called his name out as he made his way to the door, which was bRudyd by fragile police tape, easy prey for FF's body.

Goddamnit. And it was only a few minutes since we blew up a VTOL from the sky using a flying car. Signaling Hock to stay in the back with Rudy, I immediately pursued my friend as soon as he walked in. Once I made it to the front doors, I stopped instantly from the sight of the pile of stuff I saw in the hotel room, also guarded by yellow tape. Most of it was guns, likely the ones the SM and cops were using in their fight. The rest was probably what Finch stole along the way. But the true unique item stacked on top of the weapons was that weird module containing the intelligence that helped Finch find me. I think he called it "Eyovee" or something? Whatever the case. I could see Finch eyeballing the whole pile as if it was a big bag of candy. He was lucky the cops standing right by the elevator doors didn't notice the sack of human meat that reeked of crystal meth and blood walk inside.

With a curled lip and a sudden rise in heartbeat level, I whispered, "Finch. Don't!"

Aw, what's the point? I was trying to get the attention of a man, high as the Empire State building, I might add, from the other side of a glass door. Fortunately, he eventually acknowledged the presence of authorities just a car's length away. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to get him to leave the stack of shit he stared deep into. It was only an incentive to creep a few inches closer to the pile.

"Aw, damn you!" I angrily cringed at his first antic since the assault on the old missile facility, "Oh, forget it!"

I couldn't bring myself to watch him go through with stealing evidence behind the cops' back in the same room. At that point, I felt it was time to get back to the car and sit it out until he finally regrets his decision and come running back in to get me to drive away. My only hopes were for him to do it immediately because I really didn't wanna go to the very jail that lunatic broke into and painted red with the blood of convicts and police officers.

After 30 seconds or so of heavy breathing, the entrance doors suddenly busted open. To my relief out came running Finch as he carried a bunch of guns and the device like a baby.

"I GOT'EM!" He shouted from outside, dropping an assault rifle onto the ground, "START THE CAR!!!"

Under his command, I was glad to follow his order. Having opened the passenger door for Finch, I turned on the ignition and got the Kommando revving up. VRRRRRRRMMMM!!! Finch soon jumped in, dropping the pile of weapons onto his lap before shutting the door. And guess who came out to give chase? The cops, guns drawn. No surprise from me whatsoever.

"Hey!" One of the uniforms yelled as he aimed his handgun at the car, "We lost our bribe money because of you!!!"

Finch, being impulsive as always, rolled down his window, "Sorry you all can't pay fer hookers!"

I immediately pulled his head back into the car, "Shut yer damn mouth and roll it up!"

Before I gave them the chance to put a round in any of us, I slammed one foot into the accelerator, SCRRRRRRRR!!! Thankfully, the Kommando had enough horsepower to get us out of there in seconds, not that it stopped the police from trying to pick the three of us off from the street before getting steamrolled by an oncoming truck. Idiots. I'd say I'd feel bad were it not for the fact that they took bribes from Finch's old pals and God knows who else wanted them to turn a blind eye to their crimes.

"Got whatchya fucking came for??" I politely asked my friend while I drove us to safety, which was gonna be a rare find if we stuck around.

"Yesiree!" He answered with an eccentric smile, "Got Eyovee and some guns for the road!"

"Nice to see you're trying to save money." I snarked.

With the corner of my eye, I could see Finch turn to me with a stingy face, "Is that sarcasm?"

To his question, I turned my head away from the road, "Absolutely."

The two of us looked back at the road ahead. "Pussy." FF murmured as low of a voice as possible. If only he wished my hearing was bad to begin with.

POOK! A fist of mine needed to have a word with Finch's left cheek, including the passenger window, KRRCK!

To my surprise, and fortune, silence overcame the Kommando. No retaliating punch in the face, no "Fuck you" every 5 nanoseconds, not even an M1911 pressed against my skull, nothing but plain old, golden quietness. A very unusual phenomenon, but a very needed one after escaping the Terrace Police Department, whose precinct we just shot not too long ago. Wouldn't want that on my criminal record anytime soon, and who knew what cops do to those who pull that shit with a grin on their face?

But I had to bring some vocal noise eventually, as there were still quite a few things about that whole situation that bothered me.

"Hey, Finch." I called to him with both eyes glued to the road.

"Yeah?"

"How did it all happen anyway?" I asked calmly, "Your crew?..."

Chapter 16

Highway It Is

John Adoniyah

KRRRRRSSSSHHHH!!!! The car slammed how-many-feet down below the freeway.

"FUUUUUUUU..." I screamed at the top of my lungs even when it just hit the bottom concrete, "...UUUUUUU-Ohhhhh..."

"Fucking shit-show!" Yelled Slayer as he flew right out of the car through the back, earning one hell of a mental chuckle from me.

I took no time in getting the hell out of the Charger, as a certain somebody had some score to settle with me, and vice-versa. Stepping out, I gripped my AR for whom I was about to take on in that very moment, and without Finch to make things crazier than normal, I was confident things were gonna turn out...erm...okay?

"You're a goddamn menace, you know that?" I pointed my rifle right down at Slayer. The laser beamed down at his forehead. The tension inside burned up hotter and hotter even just by standing before him.

"Yeah!" He said with a presumed smile behind his skull-painted helmet, "Whatever you say, you fucking pussy!" He sprang up from the ground, unsheathing his two wrist-blades and locking his two shoulder cannons on me, "You always were a coward!"

"No." I detested with a calm voice, "Just sane, unlike you."

Pissed by just one minor insult, Slayer took his first two swings at my face. With precise quickness, I jumped back in reaction to each bladed throw, deflecting the chances of adding more scars. PTTTTTTT! I unleashed several rounds into his armor, which didn't do squat despite seeing blood pop out when the bullets exited his super-body. To that, all that came out of him was a maniacal laugh and eventual use of his mounted guns.

"SHIT!!!" I rushed into cover against the wrecked Charger as the cannon's lasers Rudyd on to my head.

VRRRR-KUKUKUKUKUKUM! Both guns went off, screeching at the chance to acquire my grisly death, along with Slayer, no less. I stayed shielded by the vehicle to the best of my ability because I've seen what his weapons can do to those looking to prove themselves men in front of him. The armor-piercing bullets shredded that car until it was nothing but a skeleton of itself, worse off from when it crashed at least 100 feet below. Slayer sure seemed to have been enjoying himself though, as his synthesized laughs were anything to take away...and sounded like they were closer as each nanosecond went by...

When the firing eventually stopped, I revved up the courage to look up at the roof to check for life. There was alright, and not the friendly kind.

"Didn't think I'd wanna settle this man-to-man?" A gung-ho Slayer asked as he stood on the very roof of the car, both wrist-blades armed and ready to go, "And here I thought we were such good friends!"

I prepared my AR, "And here I know you're fucking crazy like Finch!"

"Ooo, look at you!" The lunatic taunted before me, "Me John Adoniyah! Me goody-fucking-two shoes! I like to do nothing more than salute to the flag of a country we rob on a daily basis and turn everyone I meet into pussies!"

PUPUPUPUPUP! I filled him with some more lead while he was busy mocking me. It's usually when it's best to kill maniacs; Just got to get them when they're distracted, that's the way to go. Can't say it was enough to put him down though, especially if his whole body doesn't fall.

"Think that's gonna stop me, Adoniyah!?" Slayer folded his fingers into fists, "You got another thing comin!"

"Doubt it!" With no waiting, I emptied the rest of my clip into one of his shoulder cannons. Once enough bullets were put in to wreck it inert, a tiny explosion went off from inside the gun, igniting sparks all over.

"Fuck!" Yelled the lunatic as he partially bRudyd his face with his arm to not get shocked. Well, not for long. He still had me to look down at, his blades to slice me open, and that other cannon to tear me to shreds, "You're fuckin dead, you know that!?!?"

I kept my rifle ready, "Yeah, not happening. Not me or anyone else from here on out."

Slayer jumped down from the car with a psycho smirk.

"Oh really? And you are gonna stop me??"

Red and blue lights snared the left corner of my eye, "Not me."

"Huh?" He turned to his right to see the army of armed cops coming up on our position.

Could of ran off but instead you chose to fight as a wanted man.

"You little mother..." Slayer took another swing to get some sweet revenge I had no plans on letting him have, "...FUCKER!"

I fell to the ground after jumping back from his neon red blade

BLAM-BLAM! BLAM-BLAM-BLAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! A river of bullets came flying in Slayer's direction, and did they come looking for blood, so much it nearly painted the thrashed car crimson red, not that it stopped him. It was for that fact that it became my cue to take out my M1911 and put some holes in his other shoulder gun. He didn't take too kindly to that.

"Son of a bitch!" He got caught off-guard by my 45.cal rounds. Not for long though, as one of his blades knew otherwise, coming down hard only to put a lined hole in the concrete as I quickly rolled to the side.

Well, let's just say the mixture of 9mm and 45.cal bullets weren't doing a justice in regards to bringing down Slayer. That crazy bastard was still up and aching to tear my body in half with his wrist-blades. Should've brought a SWAT team, or hell, a platoon of National Guardsmen would've been nice. I didn't hesitate in jumping off the ground and finding another car on the highway to take cover behind, as Slayer had other folks to target in the meantime.

It didn't take me that long to find a car at least. On the side of the road laid two partially-wrecked vehicles, one SUV and sedan. When I took cover, I took a second to look inside them to see if there was any life inside either of them. Couldn't say I found any, which gave me a small moment of relief knowing innocents were out of the way, especially Slayer's way, one I was about to be in at any time.

*Sigh*...Where's Finch Ferris when you need him? Oh, right...probably not gonna happen thanks to this stunt.

SPLISH! Something gooey and slimy slammed onto the sedan I hide by. Having looked up at the windshield, "Oh, God!". Well, let's just say it wasn't pleasant, but something normal for the likes of Finch and Slayer. The latter maniac was kind enough to put the top half of a police officer onto the glass on display, giving a show for those who took joy in seeing somebody's intestines and other insides slowly ooze out of an open torso. Lovely. That man sure knows how to entertain an audience, that and make me wanna throw up after dealing with him.

"Think I haven't forgotten about you, Johnny Adoniyah!?!?" Yelled Slayer from...scarily up close.

I finally got up from cover to see where he was. He was scarily up close to dangerously up close, with his blood-drenched wrist-blades, no less.

"Great..." I muttered in witnessing the psychotic Hell awaiting me, "...Shoulda packed two rifles."

Apparently, one snarky comment was his cue to take one more swing to my handsome face, to that I dodged ever so quickly. "Fuck you!" He expressed disappointment in NOT being able to expose the insides of my skull with one slice, but instead penetrating the windshield. With his sorry ass distracted in freeing his right arm, I took the time in climbing up the vehicle so I could finally put an end to Slayer. If I can't take Finch down personally, then the other nutcase will have to suffice.

"Hey, Slayer!" I called his attention up to the barrel of my handgun, "Get a taste of yer own medicine!"

Growling with rage, Slayer wasn't gonna let himself go down without a fight. Using the one arm he had left, the maniac launched it inside the car so he could penetrate the roof. In feeling the vibration of a bladed weapon tear through the steel roof, I lost all balance from the instant panic, collapsing all the way to the concrete ground. Having laid on the highway, Slayer had no hesitance in grabbing my bulletproof vest so that he could throw me in the middle of the open road, gloating and laughing at the anticipation of dying by his hands.

"Oh, Johnny Boy!" Slayer taunted as I struggled to get back up, "You should've stayed home and let the big boys do the work!"

"So you're gonna kill me, is that how you're wanna settle this?"

After some moving around, he finally managed to yank his arm out of the windshield. It was only then I attempted to reach out for the only gun I had at the time, in which I had none after he tossed me away. Fuck. Slayer, with no opposition in sight to stop him, he took his time in walking up to me, outmatched and outgunned.

"There's no guy who thinks he's in a novel to save you this time!" He joyfully declared with psychotic glee and clenched fists, "Just me, and my ever-known hatred of you!"

I needed to make a few coughs to speak, "You can't possibly think you can get away after this."

"Hey, you just amped up the fun for me!" He didn't seem so thoughtful on the consequences, just his own violent desires, "It's almost like you wanted to throw a birthday party for us!"

"Yeah!" I smiled, "For the people who want you dead!"

"Oh yeah!?" He was just a couple meters away from me. Death was looming above like God watching the Garden of Eden, "Well...hey, least I still get to kill-"

Out of nowhere, loud streams of gunfire dominated the sounds going into our ears. Before I could say anything more, I witnessed Slayer become filled with more holes than the pores on our skin. The blood gushing out of his body with each penetrating bullet was generous enough to get some of itself on my clothes. Great, like I was totally gonna do laundry today. After getting shot to hell like that, Slayer stood motionless with no words to hack at me with. Probably better that way. Never did like the sound of gurgling. I didn't think he could possibly withstand that many bullets. He was no Finch Ferris after all, his healing abilities were still inferior compared to the man who still needed putting down.

But finally, having just stood over me for 30 seconds or so, Slayer eventually collapsed...on my body. "Oompf!" I had the experience of having an ex-super soldier pound on every bone inside me, nearly crushing them I'd also like to add. Luckily, I had the augmented strength to push him aside so that I could get up and greet the men and women of law who took that crazy motherfucker down. Well...one of them at least.

I needed a moment to breathe from being smothered, "...Thank you."

"Don't mention it." One of the many SWAT operatives who came to stop the maniac spoke up.

A whole swarm of them surrounded the fresh corpse they created.

"Is he dead?" Asked a cop who decided not to get near, instead used that moment to walk up to me.

I headed over to Slayer to double-check, "Yup...he's finally put to rest." I turned to that particular officer, "What about Finch?"

"Gone." He revealed with a deep breath, "Shot a bunch of us and jumped into another highway."

I had no words to give him after that, just an into the soul-deep stare with this new knowledge.

Damn...I was so close. I got Slayer, no problem but Finch...he's still out there...

TO BE CONTINUED...

