STOMP
Taking a step outside the worn out apartment complex, Anderson was met by the chaotic anatomy of the slums. To his back five fully suited men stood, their postures straight and their orientation uniformed. Anderson did not act immediately, instead he merely took a moment to examine the dilapidated scene before him.
No one was within sight, however he was certain more than a few eyes were locked upon their figures, hidden behind the boxes which masqueraded as homes. His stern face showed no obvious emotion, neither did his posture betray his thoughts.
When the moment passed, He raised his right arm in the air. That arm hung motionless, its palm wide open.
“Make it quick…”
He said simply, his voice raspy. His open palm then collapsed into a fist, and the five men to his back sprinted into action.
Like a tide of indomitable fury they rushed forth, each separating into diverging paths. Two of the men shifted towards the left and right side of the building, while the remaining three marched in union directly forward; they then splintered off and entered separate pathways.
Only a single officer remained in his forward trajectory, his target a weathered door. Before that officer even arrived at his first target, the unique sound of charged blasts firing forth began reverberating throughout the air.
Shortly after, the armored officer arrived at the door, then with a powerful front kick he tore apart its support.
THUMP!
The wooden door fell backwards, barely remaining whole after it impacted with the floor. The officer stepped inside the small wooden structure, the room was devoid of anything with only two figures in sight. The first of the two was a frail woman with short disheveled hair, her skin was covered in dirt and shielded from the world by a tattered blue dress.
The second figure was that of a young boy, his state even more abhorrent than that of the woman. At first glance one could not be blamed for believing he was a walking skeleton in ragged cloth. The two slum rats were interlocked in a tight embrace with the woman’s hand shielding the boy’s head.
Her blue eyes reflected the officer in black, his presence equivalent to that of any calamity. Her body shook and her eyes were drowning with utter terror. Her lips quivered before uttering a plea drenched equally by both dread and confusion.
“P-Please don’t hurt us! Why are you attacking us?! W-What did we do wrong?!”
The officer did not answer, instead he raised his DPM-17 and aimed its muzzle to them. With a swift set of masterful movements, he flicked a side switch then adjusted the weapon’s level with a short protruding handle.
The assault weapon suddenly came to life, its barrel beginning to spin whilst emitting a blue glow. Paying no special attention to this change, the man simply adjusted his aim slightly then pulled the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A flurry of small balls fired forth at tremendous speeds, they were of a pure white color and formed out of raging electricity. The electrically charged bullets impacted the pair before the two could even react. The moment the surging bullets made contact with flesh they expanded forth into countless streams of raging currents.
The two figures had a visceral reaction upon impact. The woman felt her torso being disintegrated into charred flesh by the spreading current, causing terrible agony to overcome her existence. She wanted to scream out, yet as her mouth opened her head suffered the same fate as her torso.
“Ar—!”
Her cries were silenced before they ever escaped as a side of her head popped into a hundred fragments by the direct impact of the blast, what remained was then ravaged by the spreading tide of electricity.
To her side, the young boy suffered the same outcome, however his head was the first to be hit and utterly mutilated, sparing him the agony.
In less than five seconds, the two figures were dead.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Seeing that the job was complete, the officer did not linger. He immediately exited the small home, tore down the next door he saw and mercilessly repeated the same act.
Throughout the area surrounding the apartment complex, the brutal executions continued with their many shots echoing forth from every corner.
Their terrifying sound came sporadically, only sometimes overlapping, forming a discordant melody of death…
*****
Still standing upon the same spot, Anderson listened to every shot which reverberated. As he did so, from behind, the figure of Al appeared. Upon reaching his side, Al’s green eyes darted about for a moment.
“I made the call…”
He said simply, a cigarette etched between his lips.
He waited for Anderson’s reply, however it failed to come. When he leaned a bit forward, he quickly discovered why. It appeared the lieutenant was occupied.
“Thirty three… Thirty four… Thirty five… Thirty six…”
With each blast that echoed, Anderson’s count rose. Finally when that count reached forty, he reached for a small device on his belt and spoke into it.
“That is enough, stand down.”
Not a moment later, the sounds of firing ceased. Just like that, the massacre was over.
Anderson then shifted his focus to Al.
“Just so you understand, if not for the current state of affairs then we would not need to be this harsh. In a way it is the Red Tiger Gang which is responsible for these people’s deaths today. All the more reason for us to remain focused on Operation Striker.”
Al took a good puff of his white, he then shrugged.
“Yeah sure, whatever you say lieutenant…”
He hesitated for a moment then added.
“If you are saying that to save face, don’t bother. I already know how intense you have become, oh hero of the outskirts.”
Anderson spared him a side glance then shrugged.
“It was not. Think of me in whatever way you like. I say it so that you understand the reasoning, nothing more, nothing less…”
He paused for a moment, then unexpectedly added.
“Besides, it is because of my unwavering ways that the people hail me a hero. They are afraid, all they want is a savior, even if it is a monster doing it.”
Al’s eyes hung on Anderson’s side profile for a long moment. He found himself unsure of what to think of the man before him. Just a few short years ago, this man had been taken in by the captain himself, back then it was Al who taught him everything he needed to know. If Al compared the two versions now, then they were almost unrecognizable.
What drives that intense thirst of yours?
He was certain Anderson had acquired ambition only after his enrollment into the force, however even though Al was present throughout that entire period, he failed to catch the moment Anderson obtained it.
His silent pondering was interrupted by a familiar distant humming sound. Shortly after, the massive frame of the carrier jet re-emerged. With it came the sudden dancing of the wind and the two loud roars of its engines.
Almost at the same time, the five officers emerged from within the many diverging pathways of the slum’s expanse. Their walk was calm and indifferent, as if nothing of consequence had been done just moments prior.
Of course, who was to say otherwise?
Anderson nodded at his men, his expression stern.
“Good work. Retreat back to the carrier, our job here is done.”
The men did a salute, then spoke in unison.
“Sir yes sir!”
With that they marched back towards the roof of the apartment complex where the carrier hovered just above. Anderson did not follow his men immediately, he first turned to Al and ordered;
“Remain here until the cleaners arrive, you can catch a lift back in their carrier. Once you are back at headquarters, open a new case file under the name: Slum’s Butcher and proceed with what we discussed before. You can report to me your findings.”
Should I put your name on that file then? Hah, it would be fitting.
Mocking inwardly, Al did not dare be so blatantly disrespectful now. He was smart enough to recognize when the timing was fitting.
“No problem.”
He said simply. Anderson was satisfied by that response, he then followed his men towards the roof of the complex. Not long after, the carrier’s plasma engines became more full of vigor as their roar grew many times more thunderous.
Soon the carrier shot forth at a great speed and disappeared from view. Now left behind, Al first sighed. It was one drenched in irritation.
Great, if this place did not stink before it really does now!
He grumbled inwardly before finally finishing his white. Now left with disposing of its stud he turned to his corner, however he froze. Situated a few meters away was the old man from before. The once irritating gaze was gone, his open eyes cold and empty. There was a hole on his chest, with its edges composed of charred flesh.
The old rat was dead, a consequence of his indifference towards the carrier’s arrival.
Al’s eyes hung on him for a long time. Eventually however he made his way over to the corpse. Reaching out with his left hand, he closed the old man’s lifeless eyes. With his free right hand he reached for the old man’s white disheveled beard, retreating a small stud which was nestled inside it.
Standing back up, Al first stared at his right palm, present there were two studs.
He sighed.
Closing his fists tightly, Al discarded the trash he held into his right pocket then walked away. He decided it best to wait for the cleaners inside the apartment complex.