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Our Resistance
Where Nightmares Become Dreams
Number Four- Part B 
16th-Dec-2005 01:30 am
Laura- Red dress
Well, here it is. Enjoy.






Richard reached into his duster coat, to his lower back, and grasped the handle of his bokken; it slid easily out of the loops on the back of his pant leg. The beauty of a wooden sword was that it could pass through metal detectors undetected. He brought it to the ready position in front of himself, still wearing that twisted smile; he heard the Guards back at the security checkpoint shout as the pulled their weapons and trained them on him. Several of the civilian airline passengers let out shrieks of panic, and the rest abandoned their luggage as they scrambled to get out of the way.

The head Guard was sweating heavily already.

“It’s the Resistance; shoot to kill!”

But before he could squeeze the trigger, a bullet shattered the large glass window and shattered his skull. The other Guards swore and ducked for cover, trying not to look at what was left of their comrade.

The Officer smiled as he and Richard stared each other down.

“There’s always more than one of you, isn’t there? You’re like roaches.”

Richard was silent, but his eyes narrowed to hazel slits. And then he moved.

In Kendo, the ancient Japanese art of swordplay, there are four main targets to be struck on the body. The beauty of a wooden sword was that, with the proper technique, its dull edge could still cut through flesh and bone. One of the two Guards reached to his holster, but Richard struck first.

Men; the strike to the head.

The Guard’s legs buckled beneath him as Richard shouldered his still-twitching body out of the way, pulling the bokken free from his split skull. He could heard glass shatter again as Karl picked off those dumb enough to break their cover. Richard could always trust Karl to watch his back. The other Guard had managed to pull his own gun in the interim, but Richard was quicker.

Kote; the strike to the wrist.

The Guard let out an unholy wail as he clutched the spurting stump at the end of his arm. Richard kicked the hand, still wrapped around the gun, out of way as the man it belonged to stumbled and fell into a quivering heap; but Richard’s eyes were trained on the Officer. And the Officer was still smiling as he looked over Richard’s blood-splattered face. He brought a lit cigarette to his lips, took a drag, and blew the smoke at his face. An eyebrow arched.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

Do; the strike to the torso.

Richard would give him some credit; the Officer didn’t scream, even when the bokken lodged in his spine and his guts could be seen. And he didn’t drop his cigarette. He took another drag, shakey this time, and blew the smoke right into Richard’s face again. Richard huffed once, mostly in disgust, as they locked eyes. Blood spread slowly across Richard’s coat, staining it red along the side. Life began to fade from his eyes; he clenched his teeth and grimaced, before it turned up into a smile.

“We’re…going to crush your little rebellion….And I’m going to rape your women again in Hell.”

Richard yanked the bokken free with one deft twist, and the Officer crumpled. He turned to face The Butcher. He had backed up as far as possible, his back against the glass of the window. Richard’s smile turned predatory. It was time, and it was personal.

“Please….Please, don’t hurt me. I’ll give you anything you want….I swear it.”

“You’re going to pay with your life. You’re going to pay for what you did to Tristan.”

The Target's eyes widened. Thomas Carter knew that he was a dead man.

Tsuki; the strike to the throat.

The force of the blow cracked the glass behind his victim. Richard heard the crunch of bone as The Target’s cervical vertebrae were crushed; it was like music, really. After two or three bloody gurgles, it was over. Mission accomplished. Brother avenged.

The airport terminal was completely silent and still; everyone who had once crowded it five minutes before had either fled or was still too terrified to move yet. Richard swung his bokken outwards as he twisted his wrist, flicking the blood off the blade.

Richard turned just in time to see light flash off the knife slashing towards his throat, but the reason he had turned was because he heard the sound; the whistle of a sniper’s bullet as it passed within an inch of his ear. And continued into his attacker’s eye.

Richard could always trust Karl to watch his back.





Let me know what you think.
Comments 
16th-Dec-2005 06:49 am (UTC)
You killed Tristan?!

Very good. I missed this. Please tell me this isn't the only installment you're putting out this break, please, oh, please. I must have more!

As always, your writing style is crisp and descriptive without being overpowering. I love it.
16th-Dec-2005 06:50 am (UTC)
DUDE, the second after I posted that, the other one popped up on my flist. Sweet!
16th-Dec-2005 07:49 pm (UTC) - awesome
that was cool as hell
16th-Dec-2005 08:13 pm (UTC)
Sweetie, you astound me. That was more than cool as hell. That was bloody brilliant! I knew that the anticipation was well worth it!
17th-Dec-2005 12:24 am (UTC)
oh my.
(Deleted comment)
28th-Jan-2006 07:46 pm (UTC)
All shall be explained in time, my dear. And I don't intend to disappoint you.

(Oh, and thanks! ^.^)
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