ERIK ATLAS
I wake as yu slap me.
Assessing.
YOU squeeze me something horrible..... UGHHHHHHrrrkkkkkkk.... my breath driven out of me - the muscle power and leverage you got is INCREDIBLE. My flex crumbling slowly and my air thinning out. The light start and I hear the cop coming in... I lift us up.... then everything goes blank ===========
You shake my head left and right. "And how are we feeling today?"
You are close and feel my muscled body FLEXs SOLID a moment as I swallow the rage. "WE" are never something I am - you're not my nurse or mother. I calm my shit so not everything out of my mouth is stupid and bullheaded.
1) I ain't dead so he wants something. 2) he killed my men, entrusted to me to keep and train 3) feeling? My guts HURT, I can tell my throat is bruised, and my head is swollen like a bruised melon. And my little maniac is in a talking mood.
"I'm alive. I don't know why," I eventually say. "You killed my men. I want you dead." I pause in a slow nodding manner. "And..." I whisper..."That last Star Wars movie was shit. I mean that dagger? What the fuck...?"
Our eyes meet and I LUNGE AT YOU - EVERY CHAIN AND BONDAGE TOY YOU GOT ON ME SNAPS TIGHT and I PULL hard at the ceiling raining dust on us... "HOW THE FUCK DO YOU THINK WE ARE??? You brought out the chains because you think we're ghonna start a KNITTING CIRCLE HERE?!"
Well... sometimes I suck at emotional containment...
2020-05-12 13:36
- - - -
AGENT DEREK STEEL
I slowly walk around you, examining you carefully as you regain consciousness. I lightly run my hand over the thick mass of your muscled torso, feeling the power as it starts to swell into a hard flex. I nod appreciatively, the heat coming off your pecs, your shoulders, your back creating an intense aura around you. Very nice.
I make a full circuit then stand in front of you, locking straight at you, my eyes taking in every line and angle of your square jaw, the heavy, blocky solid presence of your handsome face. You don't yet meet my eyes though.
You lay out a couple of very obvious facts, you aren't dead, I killed your men, you want me dead. And then a very poor joke. I smile briefly, not at the joke, but at the attempt, given the circumstances. Then, predictably you go apeshit, or try to, as you raise your head and look me straight in the eyes. It's truly a thing of beauty, to see that awesome muscle suddenly ripple with righteous fury, every tendon and vein popping into definition, straining against the chains that hold you. Bellowing at me as you strain to the limits of movement allowed by the chains, getting in my face. I stand there, my gaze steady, holding your eyes, impassive, but with a small smile slowly turning the corners of my mouth up.
I speak then. "Oh that's good. That's very good. You will be perfect for the job." I examine you again, then, step back.
I work my tight black top off slowly, putting it aside, revealing the dark, ripped, defined hairy muscle beneath. I loosen myself up, crack my knuckles, and cock my right fist. I measure you, then my abs tighten, I twist form the hips, cock my right arm, then explode into a brutal hook, my hard muscle rippling with power as I drive my fist directly into the pit of your abs.
My voice stays conversational as I address your points, "You are alive because killing you wasn't necessary. The thing is..." I cock my fist, my muscle tenses, then I wait, and cruelly time my fist to slam into your abs again just as you are starting to inhale, disrupting your breathing. I continue, "... I have a reputation as a 'bad guy'. And to the vast majority, apparently you included, that means that I kill people just because. Stupidity and ignorance."
I haul back on my fist, power up my muscle, then drive that right forward again, my cock starting to twitch as I feel my fist slam a third time into those thick piles of ab muscle protecting your core. Damn, just as good as sex.
"The truth is not quite so simple. Unlike your friends who killed whomever they were ordered to kill, I kill only those whom I have decided to kill. Of course you want me dead, I have killed your friends. I wonder though... how many men have your friends killed? How many widows and orphans have they left behind who would thank me for killing your friends? None of this is simple. That is just a lie that some people tell themselves to justify their actions. Fortunately for you,"
I haul back my right fist, and with a grunt of sheer muscle and a blast of sweat, slam it forward deep into the pit of your abs, softening you up, looking to break down your core strength in preparation for your employment test.
".. I've never been very good at lying to myself, and so you are still alive."
2020-05-12 22:56
- - - -
ERIK ATLAS
OK I shook the chains. You get this look on your face my first coach had that read volumes about how predictable men are. I blinked at my internal playbook (Shithead, you're being predictable.) I chide myself for being this stupid.
>>>"Oh that's good. That's very good. You will be perfect for the job." You say.... OH great, this is a recruitment drive. I have 20 ways of saying in Bruce Willis fine style that I ain't interested. (And my inner coach asks, Oh you have something else to do? He's talking, shut up...)
"You are alive because killing you wasn't necessary. " Then you unload into my GUTS... I snap solid taking the hit. The hit is times well carving into my gut swelling my bile up to my mouth. Fuck fuck..... ok I can take this. Not my first rodeo. Brings to mind... rodeo... we're breaking a bronco here. You unload the killers talk - and yes, All my friends are dangerous.
My head swims with idle elsewheres to be than listening to you - You hit me again... and again... I get the program and start flexing and taking it. I can probably take a lot - you are trained to dish out more. my head goes to the men talking about people they eliminated. Mostly agents and operatives. Mostly foreigners. All at the time none of my business.
Skeeter Johnson.
He found out I was into men. "The Big Homo hero" he called me. I was the local football star heading to the pro leagues. Trophy wife; house, car, sexy bike. All that and a stupid sister. She went to church and confessed that I was gay and asked the congregation to pray for me. They called that "a confession" back then, not as we used to call it, tattling.
I lost the wife, the house the car, the bike, the team, and the status.
That wasn't enough. Skeeter Johnson decided he was going to harass my mom. And thats when I started breaking parts off. he was at home nursing two broken knees and trying to get to his basement for another bottle of Jack when he fell into the basement and died. I was in Jail at the time for aggravated assault with intent to kill, and bein a homo.
But I knew then I killed Skeeter Johnson. there's men that kill, and then there's men that dead people just happen to happen when they are around.
Agent Steel hit me and Hit me.... And I took it.
You then say yur bad a lying to yourself - and I don't think I pity you, but I get it. Gagging from that last hit... spitting out my guts....Flexing hard and keeping a solid core. "Well... " I run out of words. I just wanna go home and forget this shit. That all looks impossible. Unless yu turn up dead. Of course i keep shut - yur not stupid and know that one.
"...well we're dating now then? This does have that foreplay feel..."
I drop the jokes.
Our eyes meet.
"Cut the shit. When do you need me dead?"
2020-05-13 00:52
- - - -
AGENT DEREK STEEL
I feel my fist starting to make some headway into your abs, but it's going to take quite a bit more to soften you up. I think it's time to up the ante a bit.
I meet your eyes, and my gaze is unwavering, locking with yours naturally, letting you see inside me as deeply as you'd like.
I've never been afraid to look another man in the eyes. I never have anything to hide.
"Dating? Well, I suppose you could say that. I will most certainly be sampling that very fine ass of yours in due time. But you have this fascinating obsession with your death.... Mmmm... You aren't required to believe me, and you probably don't, but I really don't give a fuck. I'm not planning on killing you. I have a job for you. Not one that requires your consent, however."
I lean back on my left leg then, drawing in my right leg, feeling the muscles on my thighs bunch up, the tension building like a coiled spring, then, letting it all out in an explosive side kick, driving the heel of my heavy combat boot full force into the middle of your flexed abs with enough force to cause the chains to TWANGGG as your massive beef is blasted backwards, pulling all the chains taut and tight.
"Right now, what I want from you is to find out how tough you are. Consider it an experiment... how much force is required to break the flex on your abs?"
I lean back on my left foot, draw back my right foot, and tense my abs, releasing my pent up core energy with a ripple of power, my right foot snapping forward in another powerful side kick, the heavy boot once more driving into your abs like an armour-piercing missile seeking to penetrate the hull of a battleship.
BAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
2020-05-13 02:51
- - - -
ERIK ATLAS
I nearly pop when you say "Obsessing" you killed my men in front of me - it leaves a mark on men that still have a soul - and no - I say nothing. AND... all that slips to the back burner when I see you draw back for the kick bag practice. BAMMMFFFFFFFFFFF!
eyes snap wide.... UGHhhhhhhffff ffff ffff trying to get breath between kicks....
BAMMMFFFFFFFFFFF!
You hit me agin!
and then you say the deal - this is a POWER TEST - grinning... i see you reeling up for a whopper... and FLEX HARD FOCUSING ON DISPERSING... YOU hit AND AI LET MY BODY WHIP IN THE RESTRAINING CHAINS LETTING SOME OF THE POWER FLOW OUT AND SHAKE THE WALLS....
Grin..... flex agin....
2020-05-13 15:01
- - - -
AGENT DEREK STEEL
I stand in front of you, and I examine you deeply. My hand reaches out and kneads your core, feeling your abs still holding their flex strong, I look into your face, and see that smile. Oh yes. My own smile answers yours. "This is going to be fun."
I love a challenge. I back up then, against the far wall of the small chamber, drop into a three point stance, then my thighs coiled like springs, I SURGE forward with a massive release of force, driving my hard, thick shoulder deep into your core.
I stand back, examine the impact, then back off again, dropping into a modified three point stance this time, one boot lodged against the wall, thighs tensing with power, I blast off again, this time pushing off from the wall to add an extra boost of power so when I slam into your abs with my shoulder the second time around, it's even harder. The heavy steel chains sing from the tension as your heavy muscled Texan beef is thrown hard into them.
2020-05-13 23:18
- - - -
ERIK ATLAS
I get it - this is going to be a test of endurance I see you backing up - your muscled form like a well trained stallion. You drop to a three point stance. and you CHARGE into me...
I have to say if there was anything in the night that i thought I had actual training to take it would be this moment, my training as a fullbak meant I needed to take hits, deep ugly hits, and then get up after. I set and grip the chains....you HIT me... and UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH..... gagging.... that....hurt....
Close eyes and center ramping up my recovery....You back into the wall....shaking my head.... HOT ME AGAIN! I expel ait and spread diffusing some of the impact (and holysh!t glad I did) UGHHHHHHHHhhhhkkkkk gagging hard from the hit.... Center...... get my head back....
Then a moment - I see you see me seeing you seeing me - and chuckle.... "So I guess u saw that..." I spit on the floor. "I probably caint kick yur ass. But I might well tire you out in kicking mine. I don't wanna interrupt your party. I'm sure you have some thumbscrews or anal leeches in there somewhere. I'm sure you can put me through horrors. Wanna see me lift?" I suggest with a slanty grin. "I'll blow your fucking mind..."
2020-05-15 12:45
- - - -
AGENT DEREK STEEL
I nod, eyes flashing with pleasure as I stand up, and hear you chuckle. I chuckle myself, replying, "Oh yes my friend, you have already passed the job interview, you are hired. But no thumbscrews or anal leeches. I left those in my other dungeon. I'm afraid.." I roll my shoulders, my hard, corded body suddenly rippling with power, "..I'll just have to rely on what Mother Nature gave me to continue my... treatement."
I run then towards the wall, then exhibiting some of my athleticism, I leap, parkour up the wall, my legs coiled with power, then dive across the small room, BLASTING my shoulder deep into your abs in a flying spear, the force making the chains sing with tension. I stand in front of you, landing nimbly on my feet, cock my fist, and my core muscles flexed, fire off a seriously heavy hook into the centre of your abs JUST as you start to inhale, looking to sneak my shot in when you are most vulnerable.
2020-05-15 21:03
- - - -
ERIK ATLAS
I don't wanna say shit about yur mom, but nature didn't give u shit - u stole it.
No thumbscrews
No anal leeches
I chuckle - some men might mention their "Other Dungeon" and they would mean the one they take anime girls to spank with a pine stick he paid $120 bucks for at some Kinky Flea Market. I expected full well to see a jar marked "Anal Leeches" somewhere.
The you ramp it up... run the wall and HIT my guts hard! Coughing and gagging trying to center. You HIT my gits again... AWUGHhhhhhh.... gagging.... spit a bloody gout... "That.... hurt." Gasping ...., "I guess yu don't wanna see...me lift. Gasgging from that last one.... eyes close... and then an icy calm comes over me. Probably all the whole point of this.... so here we go... "So you wanted to see my trick huh?" I see the look cross your face and its unreadable. Might mean, "Oh more bullshit" or it might mean "Finally, what a dense shithead..."
I stretch up tall and reach for the ceiling.... 6" of chain slack... it'll do. I PULLL DOWN!!!
The ERUPTION of cement and foundation drops gritting sand all over you as the mounts from my chains get TORN from the ceiling! CRRRRUUUGHHHHhhhsshshshshBOOOOMMMMM pulling parts of the ceiling down!
I land on you - A huge man shielding you from debris - parts of the ceiling hit me as I'm shielding you. Hand on your neck - face in yours. "I'm...ATLAS!" I bellow in your face. "CUT THE SHIT! Kill me or get to the point!"
2020-05-15 23:58
- - - -
AGENT DEREK STEEL
I listen to you, my eyes examining your face as you react from the work I've done on your abs, that last shot actually sinking in deep enough to get some blood spitting up. Perfect.
You make some more quips, gotta admire your sense of humour, no matter the circumstances. Your face changes as the calm comes over you. Yep. I know that look. That's the look of a man about to go fucking apeshit. I should know. I've been there myself.
Although not exactly surprised, I admit I'm certainly more than slightly impressed as you grab the slack from your chains, your muscles bulging with insane strength, and you FUCKING pull the brackets out of the concrete!! Yeah, I should have used better reinforcement. Fucking shoddy contracting work.
I instinctively pull my arms up to protect my face, and go with what comes next. Chunks of the ceiling, gritting sand start to rain down as you fall on top of me. I get my knees up slightly pulled in a bit towards my abs, and my hands are up protecting my face, but sometimes there isn't a lot you can do against a GODDAMN force of nature! FUCK ME!
When you land on me, I'm seeing spots, the only thing that saved me from being knocked out was the explosive exhalation I did just before impact, emptying my lungs naturally as you impacted me, rather than trying to resist and having it forced outta me. Once again, I get the sense of being something in a trash compactor. Your hand reaches down to grab my neck and you bellow in my face, "I'm...ATLAS!" Fucking figures. Apt name, the Titan of strength and endurance himself.
I'm seeing some spots in front of my eyes myself from that blow, and your hand isn't exactly comfortable around my throat. You bellow like a bull, demanding that I kill you or get to the point. Fair. Totally fair.
Having pulled in my knees slightly up to my abs when we landed gave me just the space I need, to twist from my hips and snake out to your left. Your right arm clutches my throat, but there is a nice long length of chain dangling from the steel manacles on both your right and left arm. As I snake to the left, I grab that chain, whipping my body up and over you, on top of your back, pulling your right arm with me, wrapping it around your throat in the process. With my left arm I grab the length of chain attached to your right arm, and savagely jerk it up, pulling up on your left wrist with a sudden, sharp violent motion to catch you off guard and get that left arm up and extended up and away from your side.
I'm digging down, my own icy calm pulsing through my body, temporarily bending the rules with a surge of insane strength. Wouldn't normally be able to overpower you like that, but my entire body, with a little surge of adrenaline can manage it long enough to wrap your own thick as a tree trunk arm around your neck by the chain dangling from your wrist.
As I kneel on your back with my right knee, my left leg planted on the floor beside your left ribs, your ankles still quite securely manacled, and wrap the spare chain over and under your arm as it's forced around your own neck. Not a proper blood choke, but pretty damn tight, tying your right arm up quite nicely in place around your neck with several loops of slack chain.
Damn. What a fucking amazing sight. I hold one chain wrapped around your neck in my right hand, muscles bulging, then holding the chain to your left arm in my left hand, pulling taut. I grunt, heave back, then lift my left boot up, and drive it down, brutally curb stomping your left arm at the elbow joint, not fucking around, looking to break your arm and take it out of this equation as I finally reply, "Fair dues ATLAS. The point is my boys need to learn how to properly break men down. Different men require different techniques. Your new job is going to be a test dummy for my boys to practice on. With you, my instincts are tell me it's all about crushing your core. My next TRICK is going to be testing that theory. I have a particular talent with core work, body scissors, bearhugs. I think I'm going to very MUCH enjoy testing my skills on you."
2020-05-16 01:23
- - - -
ERIK ATLAS
It like working leverage on a snake again - you grab my chain and work my arm around my neck and - here I was trying to shelter you from falling ceiling concrete and yur on top of me again choking the shit out of me!.... yur threatening me with a good time and ghonna test me in crush moves... head swimming from the choke, kicking myself for not just busting your larynx... you feel me going limp in the choke hold, huge muscle formerly steel solid relaxing to pliable man muscle...
2020-05-17 15:55
- - - -
AGENT DEREK STEEL
I stand up, looking down at you, my eyes flashing, my dick as a railroad spike in my jeans. What a fucking MAGNIFICENT beast. My chest is heaving, as I drop the chain, feeling the unmistakable slackening of your muscle tension, a sure sign that you are knocked the fuck out cold.
I consider my next move carefully. What I want is to continue where I left off. Things were just getting interesting, and after that amazing display herculean power, I so was in the mood to play. But business must come before pleasure, and I had another assignment to take care of. The bills must be paid.
I called in three of my guards, big bruisers, a trio of former underground fighters looking for a slightly easier life where your bones were not getting broken every day, just every other day. I give them orders in my British hard man accent, "Put in one of the holding cells. And, keep him drugged. Unless you want to deal with that." I point at the rubble on the floor, and the jagged wound in the concrete ceiling where the brackets used to be.
These men were hard as nails, but even they turned a bit green around the gills when the realized the kind of raw physical power it must have taken to rip the chains out of the ceiling. Then, they look at me, standing over you. Then down at him, and their awe increases, except now it's directed at me. The biggest one mutters, "Fuck me..." The middle one speaks up, "If you don't want him to give ya trouble, why not just break his arms?" I consider it, then respond, "Because I'm only going to be away for a few days, and I want to play with him some more when I return. I've decided he's going to be our torture dummy for the next class of recruits. I don't want to have to wait for his arms to heal before I can use him. Properly teaching the men how to break an arm in the most painful manner possible is a crucial component of the training session. I'll be back in about three days."
I head off to make my preparations for my next contract as my men drag your limp ass to the cell.
2020-05-19 00:34
- - -
ERIK ATLAS
When I wake I'm being dragged by the chains. One with a snively whining voice complaining about how heavy I am. one seems to be silent but I can feel him moving me. He's very strong but not very patient. Then there's Cameron - the only one they said by name. He gets tired of trying to drag me and executes a flawless fireman's carry, as if he's carried bodies in rescue, not as trash.
Cameron has thick arms, and chest, and back. Smells of Bay Rum, I can feel under his shirt, he's got pierced nipples, and not little barbells, but honking big 6 gauge horseshoes. I open my eyes, and treated to a strange view. Looking down, hung over his shoulder, I can see into his pants. Nice bubble butt, and I aint a complete manwhore, the interesting part was the tattoo. It was a barcode with a 9 number code and the word "Inventory" next to it. Implies he's been sold.
I couldn't see a "use-by" date but I think I am getting to know Steel, he knows when a man has gone stale. He sets me on a cement floor and cradles my head as he lays me down. Yup, definitely a medic. And one that had practice before. So I begin to think - who is this Cameron, the medic, sold to Steel or their Syndicate.
He feels my neck for a pulse. "He's awake, stay alert. He's pretending." Cameron says. A heavy book cleaves me a good on in the temple! I hear Cameron complain but he's drowned out by the sniveler.
"We need to keep him here and quiet and make the real cell ready for him. But I'm not doing all the work... Baker here needs to carry his share. It's not fair..." CRAKKK - someone gets slapped and the sniveler snivels some more. "Ok ok its fair it fair."
The men file out and there is the sound of a door closing.
I let time pass, but not too much. Time is the one thing I have don't too much of at the moment. I open my eyes and see the room is more like a storage facility with a real door in place. There's bags of garbage laying around, and it seems trash just picked up from around., My arms are secured behind my back. I turn around, UGH shit... my guts hurt and my neck is real bruised.
OMG I look behind and they took the chains and zip tied them together. They are holding me... with plastic wire ties? I FLEX my shoulders and PULL... CRAK snapp!... My wrists still have cuffs and chains but they are free enough. I go to the door. OMG The hinges are on this side? I check the door to see if they locked it - I mean this might just be the get-out-of-torture-prison-free card.
The doorknob doesn't turn. wow. OK
I look at the hinges. Then have exposed top pins. So they were serious, this is temporary. I just dont think they know how temporary it really is. I have ciffs, they have an edge. I shim them under the top pin.... BUMP it hard and SHING.... the pin slides out... and flies out of the hinge loops - and falls!
I dive to catch it and it hits the cement floor. TING-ka-ling-klangangang! I STOMP on it to shut it up.
I freeze. Are they coming?
seconds pass. ...
Nope.
Deep breath. OK I kneel next to the door and work the cuff edge under the pin... BUMP... its stuck tighter.... BUMP... it comers out and lands in my hand. Good.
I wait a ten count. I take the pins and slip them into my pocket. Shirtless, still in my sweats from the gym, no shoes. I pry the door out of the frame and the deadbolt creaks in the socket but the door opens... I slip out and see where I landed...
2020-05-20 00:34
AT THE BASE
Cameron, Baker, and Trey return from their preparations to make the cell ready. Trey keeps whining the whole time, "We shouldn't have left him in the trash room.... And Baker is always making me to the shitty jobs.." Baker smacks Trey again, a backhand across his cheek. "If you know what's good for you, you little shit, you are gonna learn to keep your mouth shut."
Trey rubs his cheek, looking at Baker sullenly, but keeps his mouth shut for the time being. Cameron sighs. Fuck. When Derek had asked him to take these two in hand, he'd tried to spin it as a challenge. The truth was, Derek had saddled those two with him because he was the only one with enough patience not to break their necks. Derek had, however, been giving him a monthly bonus in his pay packet ever since.
Cameron reflected on his time as a slave, a gladiator, for the Mafia boss who'd owned him. Even tatooed him with a barcode and everything, before selling him to another Mafia don. It had been a shitty existence. Fighting for the amusement of his owners. Before everything in his life went belly up, before he'd had to borrow money from the Mob to pay for the operation to save his brother , before the Mob collected on the overdue loan payments by making him their fight slave, he'd been training as a nurse. What another life that had been. Another universe.
But then Derek had watched him fight, and something about him had caught Derek's interest, and next thing he knew, Derek had bought him off the Don. At first, Cameron had been terrified. Derek was infamous, a mercenary that went after fucking special forces, was totally without mercy. But the truth had been somewhat different. Derek had given him a choice. He'd done some research into Cameron's past, and made him an offer. Work for him, and Derek would pay him a healthy salary, and see to it that all his brother's medical needs, which were many, would be taken care of for the rest of his life.
Cameron had agreed. It turned out that Derek looked after his men like his family, and treated them fairly. He didn't put up with shit, but he looked after his men, and in return expected nothing but their best. Cameron had never been able to figure out how Derek did it... How could he treat his own men like his family, but be so brutal and sadistic to other dudes? He didn't know, but he knew that Derek had saved his life, and his brother's life, and he'd take a bullet for the man any day of the week.
Life was strange, but you had to play the hand you were dealt with. They rounded the corner, and looked in shock at the door to the trash room missing. Cameron looked up just in time to see the prisoner, Atlas darting around the corner at the far end of the coorridoor. Then he realized how badly he'd fucked up. Derek had said to keep him drugged.... Cameron remembered the chains resting on the floor, the concrete shattered and torn from the ceiling.. Oh fuck. He hadn't drugged him. He'd forgotten, distracted by tryiing to keep these two idiots in line. If he lived through this....
But now he had a job to do. He'd do it. He owed to Derek. Cameron ran down the hall after Atlas, screaming over his shoulder, "C'mon, Trey, Baker! It's us three against him!! We can do it!!"
2020-05-21 01:50
ERIK ATLAS
The the three flunkies sharing a brain come after me - I can tell by the voices. I get around the corner and hear pursuit. Ok quick thinking, If they were behind me, the base is deeper their direction and the exit is mine - unless they were set to block exits, which I somehow dont think so. Am I betting my life on it? Yes.
I pad down the hallway hard and fast. Passing doors labeled "Detention One" and "Detention two" - shit, this feels deeper into the maze than not. Still running - I pass "Interrogation one" and round another corner and hit a door labeled "Janitor." The Hall stretched further and ends at double doors.
Shit.
Skidding to a stop at "Janitor" Haul open the door.
Bottle labeled "Bleach"
Mop and industrial bucket.
I disengage the mop handle and grab the bleach.
Wait at the corner... Heart hammering. I hear one pair of boots skid to a stop and look down seeing my shadow extending into the hallway, visible around the corner. Shit.
One man stops sensing something wrong, and one comes around. Trey - the whiner is way bigger than I expected. His voice made him sound like he was a middleweight. Nope he's a 250 pounder and dainty next to Baker at about 330.
SPLASH BLEACH! - HITS TREY IN THE FACE!
I SWEEP HIS LEG AND HE DROPS SCREAMING.
THE MOP HANDLE HAS A NARROW END AND I USE IT LIKE A HARPOON!
STAB!!!
it runs through Trey's throat!
Cameron and Baker stop and work through the initial shock of the violent and sudden attack.
I run down the hall barreling for the double doors!
BOOM - they are open - lucky me
It their fight gym training center
Two rings, massive weight array
floor mats
no windows making me think we're underground.
And the place is "Empty" that is to say no men, but plenty of pretty little cameras winking at me.
Shit. We are moments away from full alert.
I walk in 50 feet and hold the stick ready for whoever makes it through the doors.
I make my stand here
I Haul ass to the open floor and make my stand.
It's a big room, many extra and found attack items.
I measure I have 20 seconds.
2020-05-21 16:13
SEE PART III
https://erikatlas.blogspot.com/2020/06/erik-atlas-vs-agent-derek-steel_8.html
No comments:
Post a Comment