Obliterating London?
Mmmmh... a bit too much, isn't it?
Well, if someone goes for my capital, I'll definitely go for his.
Attack weakpoint... for massive damage.
Well, attacking London is always more dramatical.
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Well, if someone goes for my capital, I'll definitely go for his.
Attack weakpoint... for massive damage.
Well, attacking London is always more dramatical.
I desperately need more sleep due to start of school and beginning of heavy schedule. So I will do the minor editing and pic finding later. Sorry folks for another late update.
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The Chief charged straight for Rommel, ignoring all gunshots fired by everyone. A poor British soldier stood in the way, and was mercilessly gored to death. The Chief then threw the lifeless body like a broken doll to the side before continuing his charge. Rommel was gradually forced if not chased down to the edge of a stone bridge that seemed to cross a deep abyss to another side of the humongous underground chamber.
Rommel continued to dodge the Chief’s attack while attacking his opponent with his firearms. However, the Chief launched a surprise attack with a powerful kick. Although Rommel attempted to block the kick with his Mondragon, the kick was forceful enough to send Rommel flying a few dozens of metres to the other side of the bridge.
Perhaps wanting to be alone with Rommel, the Chief raised his giant scythe and smashed it downwards at the end of the bridge. The initial few cracks swiftly grew, and the bridge shattered and fell down the abyss below in pieces. Then the Chief crouched down slightly, before jumping across to the other side where Rommel was in one great leap.
"Monsieur Rommel!" yelled Holmes.
Rommel quickly got up without wasting anytime waiting to be finished off.
“Just go straight ahead! I’ll meet you there!” yelled Rommel without turning his back.
It wasn’t really the time for Rommel to turn his attention away, particular when the mighty warrior was trying his best to spill Rommel’s guts with his massive weapon.
“But...” began Holmes.
“Just go straight ahead! There’s a large open chamber where we can meet up!”
Talking with Holmes cause Rommel to be distracted a bit from his fight, and Rommel paid the price with a graze on his left cheek. Rommel was sure that a centimeter closer and he’d definitely lose an ear or an eye, perhaps even half of his skull to go with them.
Additional Zulu warriors had also showed up ready for a fight. Without Rommel the group was basically ill suited for such an asymmetric threat, especially in an environment they had little knowledge of.
“Let’s go,” said Quatermain with his hand on Holmes’ shoulder, before he yelled to Rommel.
“Stay alive!” yelled Quatermain at the top of his voice before he and the others scrambled away from the area.
Rommel was slightly relieved that he could now concentrate on his second fight with the Goaliath before him. The Mondragon had snapped into two, leaving him with fewer choices to fight.
The Chief once again attacked in his brute force manner, bringing total destruction to the ancient ruins where they were fighting in. Rommel noticed that they were basically fighting at some particular worship area, where recently bloodied altars were visible. Perhaps the Chief intended to have him as the next sacrifice?
Shooting the Chief with proved again the be ineffective basically in everyway, and Rommel was eager to try something different.
At another close range encounter, the Chief raised his scythe once again for a downward strike. However, Rommel skillfully dodged the elephant tusk “blade”, and instead used the downward force of the strike to stab the blade of his bayonet into the handle of the massive weapon. The blade quickly snapped at the immense stress applied to it, but the attack was a futile attempt at trying to destroy the weapon.
Seeing his turn, the Chief mercilessly gave Rommel another poweful kick and caused Rommel to smashed onto a section of a stone wall. A few month of back pain was inevitable for Rommel.
However, the Chief noticed that something was wrong with his weapon. The fracture caused by the blade had a red hot dynamite as its occupant. The fuse burned out just as the Chief set his eyes on the little surprise.
The point blank explosion was able to destroy the Chief’s weapon. The handle was completely shattered, and the two tusks struck deep into the ground. The Chief’s mask was also blasted off, leaving his beastly face visible.
Before the Chief could get back to his senses from the explosion, Rommel was before him and swiftly sliced the hands off the Chief by the wrists. This was followed immediately by Rommel pulling out his shotgun and sticking it at the Chief’s lower jaw. Rommel could swear that he had seen teeth flying off as the Chief was thrown off his balance and stumbled into a nearby wall. The wall gave way to the immense weight of the Chief and collapsed into an array of large pottery jars behind the wall. The jars shattered, and the fluid they were containing spilled out to the ground. The fluid seemed to be some kind of flamable fluid.
Seeing his chance to deal a finishing blow, Rommel lit all of the few dynamites he had grabbed previously and threw them on top of the spilled fluid.
Rommel quickly find himself some cover behind a half-smashed wall. The resulting blast could be easily forseen. Chunks of stone and flesh flew off in every direction.
“It’s over,” thought Rommel. A little bit of relief filled his mind.
However, just as Rommel turned his back to go, he could suddenly hear a low growling sound coming from the blazing fire behind him.
The Chief stood up with his head still drooping down. However much to Rommel’s surprise, from the end of his arms where his hands once were, some slimey, whips like tentacle extensions began to flood out. The tentacles reached the two fallen tusks and instantly attached themselves to them before pulling the tusks back to the two arms of the Chief.
As the tusks were attaching themselves to the arms of the Chief, bits of human skin began to fell off the Chief’s body as they burned off. What was underneath was a new whitish exoskeleton that covers the entire body of the Chief. The colour of the exoskelton matches the one of the elephant tusk perfectly.
Suddenly, Rommel’s mind was occupied with most likely a wild guess. The “tusks” were not from an elephant, but rather from the Chief himself.
Rommel was sure he had blasted off half of the Chief’s head, and he immediately regretted after seeing the new diabolic face of the Chief, or perhaps better described as a demon lord from the depth of Hell, that was facing him with its four fiery eyes.
When the Chief finally had all his eyes met with Rommel’s, he let out another deafening roar.
“HHHAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!”
From Rommel’s point of view, the Chief strongly resembled an oversized Praying Mantis, but thirsty for human blood instead.
“What kind of monster is this thing?” thought Rommel.
Rommel continued to dodge the Chief’s attack while attacking his opponent with his firearms. However, the Chief launched a surprise attack with a powerful kick. Although Rommel attempted to block the kick with his Mondragon, the kick was forceful enough to send Rommel flying a few dozens of metres to the other side of the bridge.
Perhaps wanting to be alone with Rommel, the Chief raised his giant scythe and smashed it downwards at the end of the bridge. The initial few cracks swiftly grew, and the bridge shattered and fell down the abyss below in pieces. Then the Chief crouched down slightly, before jumping across to the other side where Rommel was in one great leap.
"Monsieur Rommel!" yelled Holmes.
Rommel quickly got up without wasting anytime waiting to be finished off.
“Just go straight ahead! I’ll meet you there!” yelled Rommel without turning his back.
It wasn’t really the time for Rommel to turn his attention away, particular when the mighty warrior was trying his best to spill Rommel’s guts with his massive weapon.
“But...” began Holmes.
“Just go straight ahead! There’s a large open chamber where we can meet up!”
Talking with Holmes cause Rommel to be distracted a bit from his fight, and Rommel paid the price with a graze on his left cheek. Rommel was sure that a centimeter closer and he’d definitely lose an ear or an eye, perhaps even half of his skull to go with them.
Additional Zulu warriors had also showed up ready for a fight. Without Rommel the group was basically ill suited for such an asymmetric threat, especially in an environment they had little knowledge of.
“Let’s go,” said Quatermain with his hand on Holmes’ shoulder, before he yelled to Rommel.
“Stay alive!” yelled Quatermain at the top of his voice before he and the others scrambled away from the area.
Rommel was slightly relieved that he could now concentrate on his second fight with the Goaliath before him. The Mondragon had snapped into two, leaving him with fewer choices to fight.
The Chief once again attacked in his brute force manner, bringing total destruction to the ancient ruins where they were fighting in. Rommel noticed that they were basically fighting at some particular worship area, where recently bloodied altars were visible. Perhaps the Chief intended to have him as the next sacrifice?
Shooting the Chief with proved again the be ineffective basically in everyway, and Rommel was eager to try something different.
At another close range encounter, the Chief raised his scythe once again for a downward strike. However, Rommel skillfully dodged the elephant tusk “blade”, and instead used the downward force of the strike to stab the blade of his bayonet into the handle of the massive weapon. The blade quickly snapped at the immense stress applied to it, but the attack was a futile attempt at trying to destroy the weapon.
Seeing his turn, the Chief mercilessly gave Rommel another poweful kick and caused Rommel to smashed onto a section of a stone wall. A few month of back pain was inevitable for Rommel.
However, the Chief noticed that something was wrong with his weapon. The fracture caused by the blade had a red hot dynamite as its occupant. The fuse burned out just as the Chief set his eyes on the little surprise.
The point blank explosion was able to destroy the Chief’s weapon. The handle was completely shattered, and the two tusks struck deep into the ground. The Chief’s mask was also blasted off, leaving his beastly face visible.
Before the Chief could get back to his senses from the explosion, Rommel was before him and swiftly sliced the hands off the Chief by the wrists. This was followed immediately by Rommel pulling out his shotgun and sticking it at the Chief’s lower jaw. Rommel could swear that he had seen teeth flying off as the Chief was thrown off his balance and stumbled into a nearby wall. The wall gave way to the immense weight of the Chief and collapsed into an array of large pottery jars behind the wall. The jars shattered, and the fluid they were containing spilled out to the ground. The fluid seemed to be some kind of flamable fluid.
Seeing his chance to deal a finishing blow, Rommel lit all of the few dynamites he had grabbed previously and threw them on top of the spilled fluid.
Rommel quickly find himself some cover behind a half-smashed wall. The resulting blast could be easily forseen. Chunks of stone and flesh flew off in every direction.
“It’s over,” thought Rommel. A little bit of relief filled his mind.
However, just as Rommel turned his back to go, he could suddenly hear a low growling sound coming from the blazing fire behind him.
The Chief stood up with his head still drooping down. However much to Rommel’s surprise, from the end of his arms where his hands once were, some slimey, whips like tentacle extensions began to flood out. The tentacles reached the two fallen tusks and instantly attached themselves to them before pulling the tusks back to the two arms of the Chief.
As the tusks were attaching themselves to the arms of the Chief, bits of human skin began to fell off the Chief’s body as they burned off. What was underneath was a new whitish exoskeleton that covers the entire body of the Chief. The colour of the exoskelton matches the one of the elephant tusk perfectly.
Suddenly, Rommel’s mind was occupied with most likely a wild guess. The “tusks” were not from an elephant, but rather from the Chief himself.
Rommel was sure he had blasted off half of the Chief’s head, and he immediately regretted after seeing the new diabolic face of the Chief, or perhaps better described as a demon lord from the depth of Hell, that was facing him with its four fiery eyes.
When the Chief finally had all his eyes met with Rommel’s, he let out another deafening roar.
“HHHAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!”
From Rommel’s point of view, the Chief strongly resembled an oversized Praying Mantis, but thirsty for human blood instead.
“What kind of monster is this thing?” thought Rommel.
Herr Rommel, you should stop fighting freaks.
Even a trip on Passchendaele looks healthier...
Even a trip on Passchendaele looks healthier...
The chief is immortal?
Nah, but close to.
Agreed. But I tell you that's not the most gruesome battle yet.
That will not come for a loooooooooong time.
Well, folks, probably not the best update here. Your writer has devoted himself into the fields of Computer Science and is hoping that he has made the right decision.
Again, this update is subject to change.
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btw, Churchill is not dead, yet. People can and should help me decide whether or not I'm going to permamently retire the character.
Again, this update is subject to change.
...
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Rommel tried to increase his distance between himself and the Chief, but it proved to be useless as suddenly, the Chief stopped dead on his tracks, and raised an “arm” aimed at Rommel. Before Rommel could guess what was happening, the Chief stretched out his arm at an incredible speed. Rommel dodged it just in time. His reflex had saved him from being half the man he was.
Sensing that he had not achieved a direct hit, the Chief lashed out both of his arms in the same fashion as before, and destroying everything in their paths.
Rommel was basically out of cards to play. The situation for him was severe, and even more so when the Chief let out another deafening roar, and visibly grew a pair of horns in the same fashion as a grown bull.
Rommel took at look at his shirt. It was red with blood. Rommel seriously had not considered the career of a torero before.
The Chief charged at Rommel, with his two arms spearing the attack. A near miss strike near Rommel’s legs caused him to loss his balance. A direct headbutt probably much stronger than the power of a cannon ball then rammed into Rommel’s body, pinning him onto the rocky face of the gigantic chamber they were battling.
Much to Rommel’s horror, the Chief once again surprised Rommel with another trick under the sleeve. By turning his body continuously and continuing to lash out his pointed arms, the Chief resembled an oversized top that was horrifying lethal. It was hard for Rommel to even predict exactly the raidus of the top, since the Chief altered the lengths of his arms to his will from one moment to the other.
Rommel could feel his strength leaving him rapidly as he had his back leaned on the rocky wall. His clothes had become extremely uncomfortable to wear with all the blood. Also, Rommel probably had broken more than just a couple of his ribs, and at least one was sticking into his lungs making breathing itself difficult. It seemed futile to even resist against death.
However, it appeared that Rommel’s body was not willing to give up unlike his mind. At an instance Rommel suddenly felt he had lost control of his body, as if a switch inside him had been turned off.
Just before the tip of the Chief’s arm was about to slash his throat, Rommel’s arm caught the pointed bony tip and stopped its motion completely.
The Chief was probably surprised as Rommel was at this move, but did not hesitate to lash out his other arm. However, the arm was caught in a similiar fashion as the other one was.
The muscles of Rommel’s arms contracted at an incredible speed, and the arms of the Chief was snapped like twigs, sending bone splinters everywhere along with large quantities of blackish red blood. The face of the Chief was now before Rommel’s, and technically the face became more human-like without the pair of horns that was brutally torn off by Rommel’s arms. A kick by Rommel’s feet delievered at the same time sent the massive body of the Chief several metres away.
Rommel’s feet once again moved, and Rommel was before the Chief. His hands were still holding the pair of horns, and Rommel’s arms bashed them onto the bony chest plate of the Chief again and again. The Chief provided no resistance as the ground became wet with his blackish bodily fluids.
After continuous bashing, the breast plate of the Chief was breached open, reavealing the most vital organ: the heart.
Rommel wanted to stopped the carnage and just leave, but his arms involuntarily stabbed the heart with the pair of horns. The organic pump bursted, and sprayed blood everywhere. The thumping of the beast’s heart still shooked the ground for a while, but gradually became slower and slower until it completely stopped.
Almost at the same moment, Rommel’s body became controllable once again. The sense of feel also came back, and it did not feel nice to Rommel especially when his face was covered with the hot and blackish red blood of his foe.
“Fin... finally...” thought Rommel as he looked wearily at the corpse of his foe. Rommel thought that he should feel relief with the beast slain and he himself still alive. But somehow Rommel felt that he was not the old self he was before, and that was too wickedly unnerving for him.
Suddenly, Rommel could see a large number of crimson eyes glowing in the dark, and they got closer and revealed the ghostly faces they were part of.
Rommel suddenly found out he was surrounded by at least two dozen women.
All visibly pregnant.
Rommel did not know what to do in this kind of situation and simply stood still. It was probably the best thing to do. The women completely ignored Rommel and just walked slowly to the corpse of the Chief. There they wept and wept.
Rommel did not really know what was the meaning behind these actions. But a good guess was that they were weeping for their dead husband.
Rommel wished that he could just get himself out of this nightmare as soon as possible. A sense of guilt was crawling up his spine. It didn’t feel good at all with all the ribs that had healed instantly chilling him all along.
However, Rommel knew that he could not rest just yet, and gathered up his strength once more. There was still one final task for the night that must be completed, at all cost.
Running as fast as he could to meet up with Holmes and the others, who should all still be relatively safe. Within minutes he arrived at yet another immense underground chamber. The ceiling had almost completely collapsed, leaving the bright full moon visibly shining above everyone’s head.
The chamber seemed to be a garden that was covered with countless crimson red flowers. However, the garden was literally battered and drenched in blood that matched the color of the flowers. All the remaining British soldiers were dead, while two Legionnaires and multiple Zulu warriors were also among the dead. It seemed like that Smuts and his men had a pretty fierce battle with Quatermain and ther others while he was busy himself battling the Chief.
“Ahhh, Major Rommel. I see that you’re here to finish the job you’ve for tonight,” said Smuts with a smile aimed at Rommel.
Rommel did not say a thing in response, but simply walked over to Smuts and gave him a good punch in the stomach, knocking Smuts clear out.
“I appreciate your assistence, Monsieur Rom...” said Holmes before Rommel acted in a way both he and Rommel himself disliked.
Before Churchill could notice what he was doing, Rommel threw one of his daggers aimed directly at Churchill’s heart.
Fresh, red hot blood then began to flow down the cold, steel blade.
Sensing that he had not achieved a direct hit, the Chief lashed out both of his arms in the same fashion as before, and destroying everything in their paths.
Rommel was basically out of cards to play. The situation for him was severe, and even more so when the Chief let out another deafening roar, and visibly grew a pair of horns in the same fashion as a grown bull.
Rommel took at look at his shirt. It was red with blood. Rommel seriously had not considered the career of a torero before.
The Chief charged at Rommel, with his two arms spearing the attack. A near miss strike near Rommel’s legs caused him to loss his balance. A direct headbutt probably much stronger than the power of a cannon ball then rammed into Rommel’s body, pinning him onto the rocky face of the gigantic chamber they were battling.
Much to Rommel’s horror, the Chief once again surprised Rommel with another trick under the sleeve. By turning his body continuously and continuing to lash out his pointed arms, the Chief resembled an oversized top that was horrifying lethal. It was hard for Rommel to even predict exactly the raidus of the top, since the Chief altered the lengths of his arms to his will from one moment to the other.
Rommel could feel his strength leaving him rapidly as he had his back leaned on the rocky wall. His clothes had become extremely uncomfortable to wear with all the blood. Also, Rommel probably had broken more than just a couple of his ribs, and at least one was sticking into his lungs making breathing itself difficult. It seemed futile to even resist against death.
However, it appeared that Rommel’s body was not willing to give up unlike his mind. At an instance Rommel suddenly felt he had lost control of his body, as if a switch inside him had been turned off.
Just before the tip of the Chief’s arm was about to slash his throat, Rommel’s arm caught the pointed bony tip and stopped its motion completely.
The Chief was probably surprised as Rommel was at this move, but did not hesitate to lash out his other arm. However, the arm was caught in a similiar fashion as the other one was.
The muscles of Rommel’s arms contracted at an incredible speed, and the arms of the Chief was snapped like twigs, sending bone splinters everywhere along with large quantities of blackish red blood. The face of the Chief was now before Rommel’s, and technically the face became more human-like without the pair of horns that was brutally torn off by Rommel’s arms. A kick by Rommel’s feet delievered at the same time sent the massive body of the Chief several metres away.
Rommel’s feet once again moved, and Rommel was before the Chief. His hands were still holding the pair of horns, and Rommel’s arms bashed them onto the bony chest plate of the Chief again and again. The Chief provided no resistance as the ground became wet with his blackish bodily fluids.
After continuous bashing, the breast plate of the Chief was breached open, reavealing the most vital organ: the heart.
Rommel wanted to stopped the carnage and just leave, but his arms involuntarily stabbed the heart with the pair of horns. The organic pump bursted, and sprayed blood everywhere. The thumping of the beast’s heart still shooked the ground for a while, but gradually became slower and slower until it completely stopped.
Almost at the same moment, Rommel’s body became controllable once again. The sense of feel also came back, and it did not feel nice to Rommel especially when his face was covered with the hot and blackish red blood of his foe.
“Fin... finally...” thought Rommel as he looked wearily at the corpse of his foe. Rommel thought that he should feel relief with the beast slain and he himself still alive. But somehow Rommel felt that he was not the old self he was before, and that was too wickedly unnerving for him.
Suddenly, Rommel could see a large number of crimson eyes glowing in the dark, and they got closer and revealed the ghostly faces they were part of.
Rommel suddenly found out he was surrounded by at least two dozen women.
All visibly pregnant.
Rommel did not know what to do in this kind of situation and simply stood still. It was probably the best thing to do. The women completely ignored Rommel and just walked slowly to the corpse of the Chief. There they wept and wept.
Rommel did not really know what was the meaning behind these actions. But a good guess was that they were weeping for their dead husband.
Rommel wished that he could just get himself out of this nightmare as soon as possible. A sense of guilt was crawling up his spine. It didn’t feel good at all with all the ribs that had healed instantly chilling him all along.
However, Rommel knew that he could not rest just yet, and gathered up his strength once more. There was still one final task for the night that must be completed, at all cost.
Running as fast as he could to meet up with Holmes and the others, who should all still be relatively safe. Within minutes he arrived at yet another immense underground chamber. The ceiling had almost completely collapsed, leaving the bright full moon visibly shining above everyone’s head.
The chamber seemed to be a garden that was covered with countless crimson red flowers. However, the garden was literally battered and drenched in blood that matched the color of the flowers. All the remaining British soldiers were dead, while two Legionnaires and multiple Zulu warriors were also among the dead. It seemed like that Smuts and his men had a pretty fierce battle with Quatermain and ther others while he was busy himself battling the Chief.
“Ahhh, Major Rommel. I see that you’re here to finish the job you’ve for tonight,” said Smuts with a smile aimed at Rommel.
Rommel did not say a thing in response, but simply walked over to Smuts and gave him a good punch in the stomach, knocking Smuts clear out.
“I appreciate your assistence, Monsieur Rom...” said Holmes before Rommel acted in a way both he and Rommel himself disliked.
Before Churchill could notice what he was doing, Rommel threw one of his daggers aimed directly at Churchill’s heart.
Fresh, red hot blood then began to flow down the cold, steel blade.
btw, Churchill is not dead, yet. People can and should help me decide whether or not I'm going to permamently retire the character.
Ok, then, I've made up my mind.
Smart Rommel,
I wish he gets possessed by that Jinn/Demon again!
We'll see.
Just kill him and feed him to the Zulus.
Technically, they haven't displayed any cannibalistic behaviors, but you know which character likes to eat a lot in this AAR.
btw, sorry BritishImperial if I've tricked you into believing that Rommel had decided to defect from the Legion.
Man this AAR reminds me of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen comics, in that how you take historical figures and somehow include them in the AAR
That's the idea.
btw, your authAAR has been depleting his not so much energy daily through working in the fields of computer science. Hopefully I can get an update going in the next few days. :wacko:
Sorry, folks, for the long gap between this and the previous update. Plus I feel that the quality of my updates are going downhill......
Anyways, this update is not the best thing ever, so read at your own risk of being disappointed.o
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Anyways, this update is not the best thing ever, so read at your own risk of being disappointed.
o...
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Chapter XIII
Things did not go as Rommel wanted them to be. This had been true too long for Rommel.
Quatermain had took the dagger for Churchill with his hand. The blade pierced through the palm and Quatermain was bleeding badly.
However, Rommel seemed more gravely wounded with a short knife thrown by Quatermain sticking out of his chest.
A single envelope fell out of an inner pocket in Rommel’s coat. Quatermain drew the dagger out of his wounded hand, and picked up the envelope that had fallen to the ground by his feet. Trying hard not to stain what’s inside the envelope with his bloodied hand, Quatermain opened the envelope and took a long look at its content.
“Care for some explanations, Monsieur Rommel?” asked Quatermain as he showed Rommel what was inside. Even Churchill, a little unstable with his step from the shock he took and had to be assisted by Watson, turned to look at what was in Quatermain’s hand.
Held in Quatermain’s hand was a photograph, a small photograph of a little girl in a crowd taken at close ranges. The little girl seemed unprepared for the photograph, but her eyes did look at the right way. The eyes were the beautiful blue eyes of Aria.
There were some noticable changes in the little girl ever since Rommel last held her in his arms. Her cheecks were rosier, her hair more tended, and her eyes having more light in them...
Rommel could not find any words to spit out. He could feel a burning pain in his chest.
Drawing the knife out of his chest, Rommel did not care how much he was actually wounded and just lunged ahead straight for the photo. Quatermain countered by simply lifted his unwounded hand and punched Rommel straight in the face.
“You are loosing your nerves, Monsieur Rommel.” said Quatermain quietly.
Rommel spat out some blood from his mouth. He had not been punched in the face ever since his Legionnaire training period.
“Now do you care for some expla...” said Quatermain before he was interrupted forcefully with a punch straight up the chin by Rommel.
Rommel grabbed the photo that was drifting down the air, and tucked it safely inside his clothes. However, Quatermain had recovered from the punch and was aiming the Mauser Rommel had given him at its original owner.
Quatermain fired the Mauser without warning. However Rommel also drew his C96 pistols and rapidly fired them.
The rifle round of the Mauser grazed Rommel’s shoulder just near his neck, while the pistol rounds from Rommel’s pistols scratched Quatermain’s hand on the trigger.
Suddenly from behind Rommel, Holmes charged at him and attempt to bash the back of his head with the butt of a rifle. Rommel let Holmes charged right pass his side and then drived his elbow into Holmes stomach. Quatermain did not let Rommel have a chance to rest, and immediately resumed fire, forcing Rommel to make a short run for cover behind a large boulder.
Much to Rommel’s surprise, a few red cylindrical objects were tosed to his side, and a blinding light soon followed.
“The dynamites those poor chaps had left for us had proven to be useful...” Rommel could hear Quatermain’s voice near him.
“Unbelievable... he's still alive... after that explosion” Rommel could then hear Holmes' mumbling.
Unable to move and see very well, Rommel could not do anything but justlie still and await his oncoming fate.
“... Do we really have to do this?” asked Holmes.
“Mr. Holmes, I’m pretty sure you know how dangerous this man is. He attacked Mr. Churchill with killing him in intent, and before that, he cheated our trust on him.”
A short silence followed, before Quatermain opened his mouth again.
“Farewell, Monsieur Rommel, for the last time,” said Quatermain as he aimed his revolver at Rommel’s head, before proceding to cock the hammer of the revolver back.
“I still wish that you are not our foe, but our friend,” said Holmes rather sadly.
It might truly be the end of Rommel, but something unexpected happened and changed his fate. A gigantic double-headed axe with it’s two blades each larger than a man’s torso flew past the air and struck Quatermain full force. The huge blade of the axe struck deep into Quatermain’s torso, and pinned him like a broken doll onto the rocky wall face of the massive underground chamber. Fresh red blood poured out of Quatermain’s mouth like vomit.
(Now that's some real axe.)
Two figures stepped out of the darkness from behind Rommel. One seemed even more massive than the Chief, and the other one was just around Rommel’s size. The smaller sized man began to speak in a voice too familiar.
“I see that you need some assistance, Major Rommel... ” said Jack cheefully and lifted up Rommel in a mocking way.
Things did not go as Rommel wanted them to be. This had been true too long for Rommel.
Quatermain had took the dagger for Churchill with his hand. The blade pierced through the palm and Quatermain was bleeding badly.
However, Rommel seemed more gravely wounded with a short knife thrown by Quatermain sticking out of his chest.
A single envelope fell out of an inner pocket in Rommel’s coat. Quatermain drew the dagger out of his wounded hand, and picked up the envelope that had fallen to the ground by his feet. Trying hard not to stain what’s inside the envelope with his bloodied hand, Quatermain opened the envelope and took a long look at its content.
“Care for some explanations, Monsieur Rommel?” asked Quatermain as he showed Rommel what was inside. Even Churchill, a little unstable with his step from the shock he took and had to be assisted by Watson, turned to look at what was in Quatermain’s hand.
Held in Quatermain’s hand was a photograph, a small photograph of a little girl in a crowd taken at close ranges. The little girl seemed unprepared for the photograph, but her eyes did look at the right way. The eyes were the beautiful blue eyes of Aria.
There were some noticable changes in the little girl ever since Rommel last held her in his arms. Her cheecks were rosier, her hair more tended, and her eyes having more light in them...
Rommel could not find any words to spit out. He could feel a burning pain in his chest.
Drawing the knife out of his chest, Rommel did not care how much he was actually wounded and just lunged ahead straight for the photo. Quatermain countered by simply lifted his unwounded hand and punched Rommel straight in the face.
“You are loosing your nerves, Monsieur Rommel.” said Quatermain quietly.
Rommel spat out some blood from his mouth. He had not been punched in the face ever since his Legionnaire training period.
“Now do you care for some expla...” said Quatermain before he was interrupted forcefully with a punch straight up the chin by Rommel.
Rommel grabbed the photo that was drifting down the air, and tucked it safely inside his clothes. However, Quatermain had recovered from the punch and was aiming the Mauser Rommel had given him at its original owner.
Quatermain fired the Mauser without warning. However Rommel also drew his C96 pistols and rapidly fired them.
The rifle round of the Mauser grazed Rommel’s shoulder just near his neck, while the pistol rounds from Rommel’s pistols scratched Quatermain’s hand on the trigger.
Suddenly from behind Rommel, Holmes charged at him and attempt to bash the back of his head with the butt of a rifle. Rommel let Holmes charged right pass his side and then drived his elbow into Holmes stomach. Quatermain did not let Rommel have a chance to rest, and immediately resumed fire, forcing Rommel to make a short run for cover behind a large boulder.
Much to Rommel’s surprise, a few red cylindrical objects were tosed to his side, and a blinding light soon followed.
...
Rommel’s head was gving him a hard time, and he struggled to open his eyes. A small slit managed to open, but Rommel could still barely see.
“The dynamites those poor chaps had left for us had proven to be useful...” Rommel could hear Quatermain’s voice near him.
“Unbelievable... he's still alive... after that explosion” Rommel could then hear Holmes' mumbling.
Unable to move and see very well, Rommel could not do anything but justlie still and await his oncoming fate.
“... Do we really have to do this?” asked Holmes.
“Mr. Holmes, I’m pretty sure you know how dangerous this man is. He attacked Mr. Churchill with killing him in intent, and before that, he cheated our trust on him.”
A short silence followed, before Quatermain opened his mouth again.
“Farewell, Monsieur Rommel, for the last time,” said Quatermain as he aimed his revolver at Rommel’s head, before proceding to cock the hammer of the revolver back.
“I still wish that you are not our foe, but our friend,” said Holmes rather sadly.
It might truly be the end of Rommel, but something unexpected happened and changed his fate. A gigantic double-headed axe with it’s two blades each larger than a man’s torso flew past the air and struck Quatermain full force. The huge blade of the axe struck deep into Quatermain’s torso, and pinned him like a broken doll onto the rocky wall face of the massive underground chamber. Fresh red blood poured out of Quatermain’s mouth like vomit.
(Now that's some real axe.
)Two figures stepped out of the darkness from behind Rommel. One seemed even more massive than the Chief, and the other one was just around Rommel’s size. The smaller sized man began to speak in a voice too familiar.
“I see that you need some assistance, Major Rommel... ” said Jack cheefully and lifted up Rommel in a mocking way.
An axe? Where I've seen that before...
I hope you've not been playing Warcraft...
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where is the next bloodshed?
Yeah, sorry Enewald, been quite busy (and sick) recently.
For the first time I've written more code (in C) than I'd normally have written in 1, no 2 or possibly more updates, and that's not the worst part. The worst part is to debug the whole crap that I've written, and mind you if you don't know, C gives you one of the "best" error messages for you to debug: crap.
I won't be finishing what I've now until the weekend, so the quickest time for the next update is on this Sunday. Sorry again for the wait.
btw, something I've in my mind that I might write down one day: I just dreamed about me killing a zombie by dropping my ultra-heavy textbook off the building and bashing the head of the poor undead.
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Last time I suggested to use a book to kill something I almost got exiled to the Moon. It was really vicious...
I can only say I made good use of my organic chem (textbook) in dealing with biohazards.
I can only say I made good use of my organic chem (textbook) in dealing with biohazards.
-Biowhat? Where, where?
-Calm down, Alice! That's gaiasabre, not a biohazard... well, shoot, just in case...
BANG! BANG!