Alone
Ballisto
Join Date: 2003-05-19 Member: 16503Members
Join Date: 2003-05-19 Member: 16503Members
Ok this isn't ns related (it deals with guns though... and with that sickening feeling of being alone). We had to write stories in English and this is what came out. I actually kind of like it. Post comments, say what I can improve. THanks in advance!
<span style='font-size:21pt;line-height:100%'>Alone</span>
Carl was the only one left. He was sure of it. Sole survivor of his squad. They had attempted a daring raid into enemy territory. They had failed miserably.
They were close to their objective when all hell broke loose. Shots filled the air as they were attacked from the front and the back. Carl and his companions tried to retreat out the side – but only Carl made it. He had run until he was sure he had lost his attackers. He lay down in the tall grass and waited. In this rare moment of peace, he checked his gun. Only 18 shots left.
He was alone. Alone, camouflaged in the middle of enemy territory. Alone, low on ammunition with 18 shots to last him who knows how long.
Carl froze as he heard footsteps. The sound of combat boots on dry foliage. He could hear 2… no 3 people approaching. Were they friend or foe? He got ready, bracing his gun against his shoulder, placing his finger in the trigger.
They were foes. He was sure he recognized one of them from the skirmish before. They hadn’t noticed him and walked by, exposing their backs to Carl. Should he go for it? He weighed the risks in his head. He was most certainly doomed eventually, so he decided to take the chance. He let loose. This one’s for you, he thought, thinking of his downed companions. Carl’s finger raced on the trigger as he opened fire. The three dived for cover as they heard Carl’s shots whiz by. He heard the satisfying sound of his shots connecting. One man down. By now, the other two were on the ground shooting at his hiding spot. But Carl was long gone, retreating into the woods. Like a skilled poker player, Carl had folded when the game turned sour, instead of fighting a sure loss. “Stupid men are not brave, he thought as he ran.” He slowed to a walk, switching to stealth now that the danger was behind him.
Carl walked through the woods, trying to be quiet, hoping that none of the surrounding trees hid an enemy, that none of the boulders concealed an ambush. He tried to minimize his noise. A snap of a twig, a crackle of dry leaves could be fatal. He looked all around him, eyes sharp, ears perked. It was too quiet.
He froze as he heard voices. And footsteps. He saw shimmers in the trees. Too many for him to take alone. Carl’s heart pumped in his chest as he ducked down. He couldn’t run… he might encounter the two he’d found before. He had to hide. His camo fatigues had served him before… he hoped they would work again. Peering out from his bush shelter, Carl's heart raced as they came into view.
The approaching men carried their weapons slack and chatted, making no effort to be quiet. Carl held his breath as one’s eyes hovered over him… and then passed. He exhaled in relief. Soon, their voices faded into the distance.
He had waited long enough. Carl peeked his head out of his hiding spot. The coast was clear. Carl got up and walked the opposite way, trying to avoid the group who’d just passed. He thought of his mission objective… then thought of his immediate objective – survival.
Carl crept down the trail. His thoughts turned to the two survivors of his solo ambush… what had happened to them? Where were they? As he turned a bend he saw them – those very two – waiting behind a large rock. Waiting for him. He dived for cover – but not soon enough. Three skillfully placed shots thumped him in the chest. Carl looked down and saw red paint dripping down his torso.
“I’m out!” Carl called from behind his boulder as he stood up with his hands in the air. “We knew you were there somewhere! We were waiting for you to come out! You’re one tough guy to kill!” “I was afraid you were gonna get the flag!” The two became three and Carl grinned behind his paintball mask as they walked back to base, exchanging exciting stories of recent heroism.
<span style='font-size:21pt;line-height:100%'>Alone</span>
Carl was the only one left. He was sure of it. Sole survivor of his squad. They had attempted a daring raid into enemy territory. They had failed miserably.
They were close to their objective when all hell broke loose. Shots filled the air as they were attacked from the front and the back. Carl and his companions tried to retreat out the side – but only Carl made it. He had run until he was sure he had lost his attackers. He lay down in the tall grass and waited. In this rare moment of peace, he checked his gun. Only 18 shots left.
He was alone. Alone, camouflaged in the middle of enemy territory. Alone, low on ammunition with 18 shots to last him who knows how long.
Carl froze as he heard footsteps. The sound of combat boots on dry foliage. He could hear 2… no 3 people approaching. Were they friend or foe? He got ready, bracing his gun against his shoulder, placing his finger in the trigger.
They were foes. He was sure he recognized one of them from the skirmish before. They hadn’t noticed him and walked by, exposing their backs to Carl. Should he go for it? He weighed the risks in his head. He was most certainly doomed eventually, so he decided to take the chance. He let loose. This one’s for you, he thought, thinking of his downed companions. Carl’s finger raced on the trigger as he opened fire. The three dived for cover as they heard Carl’s shots whiz by. He heard the satisfying sound of his shots connecting. One man down. By now, the other two were on the ground shooting at his hiding spot. But Carl was long gone, retreating into the woods. Like a skilled poker player, Carl had folded when the game turned sour, instead of fighting a sure loss. “Stupid men are not brave, he thought as he ran.” He slowed to a walk, switching to stealth now that the danger was behind him.
Carl walked through the woods, trying to be quiet, hoping that none of the surrounding trees hid an enemy, that none of the boulders concealed an ambush. He tried to minimize his noise. A snap of a twig, a crackle of dry leaves could be fatal. He looked all around him, eyes sharp, ears perked. It was too quiet.
He froze as he heard voices. And footsteps. He saw shimmers in the trees. Too many for him to take alone. Carl’s heart pumped in his chest as he ducked down. He couldn’t run… he might encounter the two he’d found before. He had to hide. His camo fatigues had served him before… he hoped they would work again. Peering out from his bush shelter, Carl's heart raced as they came into view.
The approaching men carried their weapons slack and chatted, making no effort to be quiet. Carl held his breath as one’s eyes hovered over him… and then passed. He exhaled in relief. Soon, their voices faded into the distance.
He had waited long enough. Carl peeked his head out of his hiding spot. The coast was clear. Carl got up and walked the opposite way, trying to avoid the group who’d just passed. He thought of his mission objective… then thought of his immediate objective – survival.
Carl crept down the trail. His thoughts turned to the two survivors of his solo ambush… what had happened to them? Where were they? As he turned a bend he saw them – those very two – waiting behind a large rock. Waiting for him. He dived for cover – but not soon enough. Three skillfully placed shots thumped him in the chest. Carl looked down and saw red paint dripping down his torso.
“I’m out!” Carl called from behind his boulder as he stood up with his hands in the air. “We knew you were there somewhere! We were waiting for you to come out! You’re one tough guy to kill!” “I was afraid you were gonna get the flag!” The two became three and Carl grinned behind his paintball mask as they walked back to base, exchanging exciting stories of recent heroism.
Comments
<!--QuoteBegin--></div><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>QUOTE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='QUOTE'><!--QuoteEBegin-->A snap of a twig <b>or</b> a crackle of dry leaves could be fatal.
A snap of a twig, a crackle of dry leaves <b>-</b> they could be fatal.<!--QuoteEnd--></td></tr></table><div class='postcolor'><!--QuoteEEnd-->
You forgot the or/hyphen. I understand what you were trying to convey, but your structure wasn't 'proper'. Then again, I could be wrong. English has its loop holes.
Be careful with point of views, though. They can be somewhat tricky.
Excellent stuff! Second point to bring up is that the quotation should finish after the comma - i.e. <i>"Stupid men are not brave," he thought as he ran.</i> It also isn't too clear about the "running away being smart and staying to die not being brave" message, though it is understandable.
At any rate, great work, especially with the twist at the very end. It's often quite tough not to reveal the twist before the end, but you have concealed it very well.