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And yes, I still can't cook, I just act very well as one...
First it was Killzone, MGS, Street Fighter and then Judge Dredd. Now it's the team ICO downloadable. It's kind of hard not to want to play as ICO blasting through the Contra levels along with Ryu...
Surprised, but not really at the same time, I struggled to ask “excuse me?” as Daze laughed at the confused expression that was stapled unto my face at the moment.
“Don’t you see?” He said, simply, as if it was the most logical thing said in the world so far. “The world does revolve around you at this moment, and these people’s lives are just the satellites that orbit around it as we chug along our plans.”
“No, not our plans. Yours.” I said, almost grunting in anger and frustration, the bass of my voice lowering so low that it would probably reverberate the plane if given the chance.
“Oh, really?” Daze smiled, amused still, even in the face of the danger of me pummeling his teeth in. “Don’t tell me you didn’t have a plan to reach your goal at all? To complete your mission.”
He asked “what were you going to do then? Run away? Leave this whole life behind with that call girl of yours? Take the rest of your 10.5 million dollars and run away to France or somewhere else romantic?”
Saying mostly to himself “what we do is already embedded in us, we can’t escape even if we wanted to.”
Smiling, he whispered through his teeth, “our own escape comes when we see the light beyond the heavens.”
Staring at him, I mean, really staring at him, with a stare so hard it would break diamonds, I said “you’re f*cking crazy”, the words escaping as bursts of air forcefully pushed through the slits of my teeth.
Staring back, with less intensity than the one I just gave him, he said “everyone reaches insanity before they crash through the beginning of their deaths.”
And just like that, without holding back anymore, as the plane rose itself to be leveled off as it cruised through the oceans below, I snapped my seat belt off and, in one single, smooth motion, punched towards Daze, landing the heavy fist right on his cheek, feeling his teeth crack as my knuckles dug deeper and deeper into his cheek.
As if well prepared, as if this had all been rehearsed before, he quickly countered with his right leg, even before my fist left his cheek, and kicked, as quickly as he could, towards my feet, the force so fast and unexpected, that the kick pushed my shoes towards a skid, and, since my center of gravity was already off due to the punch, made me fall hard, like, seriously hard, hard enough that my jaw slammed onto the passenger seat armrest, the metal kind, with such a force that it was heard through the entire plane, causing everyone to turn their heads and look, some afraid, some curious, but all looks were on me.
Before I could recover, well, even before my head finished its rebounding motion from the seat rest, Daze drew his arm back, and, in one quick and sudden motion, slugged his elbow right into my face, cracking my nose into thousand pieces, the blood bursting everywhere, my throat coughing as it tried to clear off the blood that fell to my esophagus, as the pain rushed to my brain and took it over.
Drawing his elbow up again, Daze smashed it right on top of my head, crushing it down further onto the armrest, slamming it as it held its place to lock my head onto it.
Amongst gasps of surprise and ‘ooohs’ of viewed pain, he asked, his voice clearly, “see what you made us do?” Smiling, crazily, happily, he said “we were just talking, calmly, civilized, and then you had to turn it into this.”
Coughing out blood still, I wasn’t able to say anything, my breath taken away by the pain and the shock, my lung barely able to keep any oxygen in as it coughed and coughed away.
Out there somewhere, a few or a dozen seats ahead of us, a few stewardesses and a pilot came down towards us, wearing his white shirt and aviation cap to show that he was commander of some kind of aviation ship. People turned briefly too see who they were when they passed by them, yet their attention quickly turned towards Daze and myself again, me locked in his elbow lock, him looking up with a smile as the pilot neared us by.
“Hey, fella, calm down.” The older man said, his white mustache not matching the color of his white shirt, strangely, as he held his hands up in the universal sign of ‘chill’.
“Great,” Daze sighed through his heavy breaths, his hand reaching into his jacket. “Now I gotta get more involved.”
And as they approached us, as their eyes widened, Daze pulled out a hand gun out of his pocket, make and model that I’m not sure of, since it’s hard to see with your head locked down on the seat rest, but the burst and bullets were loud enough as they pierced the pilot right on the chest, the blood bursting out as if it was from a juicy tomato, splashing in all directions as if someone had just taken the heart and squeezed it as hard as they could, until the membrane burst and everything inside just rushed out flying.
It took a few seconds before the first scream started, and after that it was just people freaking out, running and struggling as they tried to get away from us as quickly as they could, a few falling and stampeded to death, probably, as they rushed away and away, yet not too far. Since we were all contained in a small pod anyway. Since we’re all stuck together with each other anyway.
Bringing my own elbow up, I smashed Daze’s elbow away as hard as I could, hoping that it would take him off his balance as much as his kick did, yet it did no good, because as soon as my head started to rise, it was met with a hard blow from the gun, like, not the gun butt, but the barrel itself, as Daze just naturally rose the gun he had with him, and, without a moment wasted, slashed it down as hard as he could on me, almost knocking me completely out of my consciousness.
Standing up, as I was struggling just to keep conscious, Daze grabbed the neck of my shirt, and, with an effortless tug, threw me off my seat onto the hallway.
For some reason, someone screamed about it somewhere.
Dragging me along with him as he walked, slowly due to my almost dead weight, he struggled towards the cabin, his legs struggling, his gun raised in front of him, parting the crowds with it as if they were the red sea, and, just to make sure it keeps splitting, he would shoot whoever wasn’t moving, right on the spot, as if it was meant to be, as if it was all meant to be.
People acted like, well, scared people, running out of the way and struggling, climbing over each other, as they rushed away from us and to the other side of the plane, the only heroes on it already shot and bleeding to death on the floor, Death overlooking them as he dragged them along, ever so slowly, waiting around for the next victim to pile onto his carriage.
Still coughing, but trying to reach up to him, I felt that efforts weren’t really worth it, and that all I was doing was trying to prevent the inevitable. Daze will reach the cabin. Daze will control the plane, our fates dangling as he played around with it.
Knocking on the cabin’s locked door with his gun’s barrel, Daze waited a second or two before aiming at the lock, and, without a second’s hesitation, pulled the trigger and shattered whatever held the lock in place.
The noise of it shattering was loud, like ridiculously loud, enough to make all sound go away for a while, as my ear drums adjusted itself and tried to calm the screeching running around in my ears, yet nobody did anything, nobody tried to stop him. Even with their numbers easily towering the single man that was Daze, nobody did anything, they all just looked and cowered in fear.
The remaining pilot, looking straight in fear, frozen so stiff that it looked like he was trying to choke the flight control stick to death.
Raising his gun, Daze pointed and bumped the back of the pilot’s head with his barrel, saying “I’m pretty sure you already know what’s going on in there”, continuing “so let’s just cut the intro and go right into the point”, and, using his gun to point, he lifted it and just waved in a particular direction towards the skies and said “I need you to just keep going towards that way, you know?
“Just keep flying till we can’t fly no more.
“Just keep flying till our gas runs out.”
Laughing like a goofball, as soon as he said that, his gun shook dangerously over the lights and buttons on the cabin’s dashboard.
And without a second to waste, or even consider how dangerous this whole thing was, I slammed my head towards his jaw, crushing it as hard as my legs would let me lift towards it, and, with my left elbow, shot towards his arm, the one holding the gun, the one still waving around in shock.
The barrel shot out in surprise, the trigger squeezed by accident, and blood went splashing up on the cabin’s window, covering the sky that were once seen blue.
While the fact that the only person who could land this plane had just been shot should have shocked the both of us, it somehow didn’t, because as soon as I knocked Daze off of his feet with a hard hit from my shoulder, I turned around and ran as fast as I could back towards our seats, back to the ticking plastic piece of sh!t that were ticking down our doom, our absorption into a ball of fire.
Daze was shocked by what was basically just a couple of seconds worth of time, but he did not waste any time turning the barrel towards me, the bullet already leaving the barrel as it pointed towards me.
It should have hit me, for there was no way I could have avoided being shot since the only way to go through the plane’s alley was, well, straight, but the thing that slipped through both of our minds was the point that, well, we kind of blew the pilot’s brains out, and, in doing so, while the guy was still sitting straight on his seat as he was shot, neither of us really made sure that the cadaver would remain sitting straight, not leaning on the controls, plummeting the plane downwards, like he was now.
We probably knocked his body over, by accident, as I was freeing myself from Daze, but then again, it’s not like that was the priority at the time, for either of us. Mine was to reach the bomb, while Daze’s was to stop me from reaching the bomb.
People’s surprised scream as the plane fell towards the ocean should have been enough to knock us back to our sane senses. Yet it didn’t. Nothing did.
The bullet grazed me, a line scraped right through my cheek, as the plane turned its nose downwards, the sudden jolt knocking me off my feet, the sudden jolt knocking Daze’s aim off its mark.
Screaming a bit from the pain, as the spark and hole of the bullet formed immediately in front of me, I grunted a bit as I pulled myself back to my feet again, harder than said, due to the now steep incline of the plane, not to mention the sudden bumps up and down due to probably air pockets in the sky.
Daze was getting to his feet, as people who weren’t able to hold themselves right were now screamingly sliding down the aisles, their hands out, desperately trying to hold on to anything, anyone, and save themselves from having any contact with either of us.
While Daze should have maybe turned around and kept the pilot off the controls, maybe just kind of level us off so that we wouldn’t be plummeting to our doom, he did not. Getting up instead, he shot again.
The bullet ricocheted off the seat right next to me, as another pocket of air knocked me off my feet, almost causing me to slide towards Daze, something that might have happened had it not been for my hands instinctively reaching out and holding onto the seat rest next to me.
Daze grunted a frustration at the miss, and for the next one, he really stayed quiet and focused as he pointed at me, aimed at me, with all of his body’s concentration.
The plane was pretty much reaching to a point that we were probably closer to vertical than half horizontal, as people were sliding and falling off the top by accident, hitting themselves and getting knocked out as they hit the seat rests, or grabbing onto whoever was next to them, ending in them pulling them off from their grasp as well.
Daze aimed, and, instead of the loud blast that we were both prepared for, the almost quiet click of his trigger shooting an empty chamber that we barely heard replaced it instead.
He had run out of bullets, something that now him and I know, and, without any waste of time, Daze stared his steep climb towards me, throwing the gun away and just climbing and holding on as fast as he could.
But it was too late, I was already way ahead of him, dodging and avoiding the falling people by snaking in and out of the seats, using the seats as a foothold as I pulled myself row after row towards our destination, rising as fast as I could towards it.
This was when I wished life was like a videogame, so that you had a timer flashing right before you, and a chance to continue again in case you screw up.
As I was reaching up, as I was almost there, our time ran out.
The whole plane rumbled, and a strong force pulled us all towards the front of the cabin, as if a giant hand had just taken us and shook us hard, with as much force as it could muster.
Both me and Daze knew what had happened, the information flashing through our minds as quickly as we felt the force and were thrown off whatever hold we had, hitting the ceiling and bouncing towards the cabin again.
The plane had crashed, we had actually already reached from the heights to the sea, smacking into it as hard as metal could, an awesome splash that would have been great to watch from afar, but not participating into it as we did.
As soon as I felt my body near the seat again, I tried my hardest to grab onto it, instinctively, if you want to call it that, but it didn’t matter anymore.
The force of the crash was tearing the plane apart, the seams and screws and all being pulled apart as the deafening sound of hundreds of people screaming echoed inside the plane, before it tore apart and the sound waves escaped and intermixed with the loud boom and water splashing that we had caused on the sea.
Grabbing onto anything, trying to grab onto anything, I tried to keep myself conscious, yet the plane kept bouncing me around, knocking me on any surface it can reach, as if just tossing me around on purpose.
Everything fell apart, and Daze was lost somewhere, just like myself.
The plane probably tore itself to pieces through the crash, everything probably just tore itself apart as people here and there were flung out of the safety inside the plane.
I’m just guessing there. I’m not really sure about it or if it really happened that way, since I had already been knocked out by some blow to my head, by some hard object just slamming right into my skull.
I should have just stayed unconscious in the darkness a little bit longer.
</div></div>( -0.5 )Yeah, really retarded title, but I didn't make the title, I just take them and make JAM films out of them. This one came out great, probably due to the music by the Notwist, which somehow flowed thanks to edits...
Mbr's JAM challenge: Title: Big boys cry alone
Word: sniper
Mbr's story challenge: Title: Windchime of western gate
Word: meteor
"What about... Til We Meet Again
Your word is... blade"
