Ken's Start ...and End.
Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2018 5:58 pm
[note: new topic cause, if I post this in Requiem...that'd be a bit odd, neh? So Ken's just further up the beach.
>>;]
Quite a while up the beach from Cody stood another boy. He didn't see the others, nor hear, nor care. Hell, he'd scarecly heard the bike arrive.
He'd been awake for several hours, wandering slowly around the island. He hadn't spoken a word, after an expected 'what the hell?' upon waking up on an island. Deserted, he'd thought.
What is this, Lost? He'd wondered...until he'd read the hand book. He'd not believed it for the longest time (amounting to around 5 seconds), because he'd found the pistol in his pack. He'd stared at it for some time, not wanting to believe, but not knowing what to do.
It had come loaded, so that was no worry. The 12-shot handgun wasn't incredibly heavy, and he'd held it loosely since then.
Ken had wandered in a trance-like state the whole time, not sure what to do. Not thinking on what to do, either.
He'd arrived on the shoreline, looking out at the ocean surrounding the island. What ocean was it? He didn't know. It didn't matter.
He almost imagined seeing land...no, he did see land. Far, far away. Still, he could see it....no more than 50 miles then, right?
He didn't know it, but the 'land' was just an unusually dark cloud far on the horizon. In his mental ...state... he'd quickly mistaken the dark mass for a dark mass of a different sort. Also, in his current state, he failed to see the small patrol boat a mile or so off the island. Along with that, there were a few Zodiacs around it, flitting about. For all he knew, there could be a cruiser just a few more miles away, but he wasn't looking. Seeing 'land' had completely forced the fact that boats patrolled the island from his mind.
His face twitched into a grin as the wind whipped his hair. It would be cold as fuck, but ...he could do it. He thought he could, at least.
He didn't know it, but he'd never make it. No matter what, it would have been almost impossible. The cold water would sap his strength, the boats would tear him apart, the current would shove him away from the island and 'land'...any number of things could happen, and at least two were guaranteed. The boats would kill him, and the currents would force him away. Oh, and it was just a *bit* too far for a normal human being to swim.
He threw his bag to the ground, shoving the pistol into his belt. He hadn't safetied it this whole time, and still hadn't. He ran full speed into the water, lunging into it. He began to swim, picking up speed. It was amazing. He'd never swam this fast before, in his life. ...and it was all for nothing, too.
He didn't know it, but the second he had begun to swim, several alarms had gone off. One for each Zodiac, one for each patrol boat, and a few more in the terrorist command post. They knew he was swimming for it. The terrorist that was monitoring his escape snickered. Poor bastard doesn't even know there's no land for several thousand miles that way...
The Zodiacs began to angle in towards him, bouncing on the waves threatening to drown Ken. The gunners on the nose of each raft cocked their light machine guns, trying to get a sight on Ken. The larger patrol boat, though, was also being vectored in. Since it had a radio, it recieved direct coordinates. The gunners on the patrol boat also cocked their weapons. They had a far better vantage point, being over 10 feet higher.
_____________________
It had barely been 15 minutes, and something slammed into the water next to Ken. What the fu--- A spout of water shot up in front of him, followed by a couple more to the side.
And a couple dozen more around him. He looked to the side, and saw exactly what he didn't want to see.
Two Zodiacs and a larger boat behind it. And there were flashes on each vessel. Ken didn't know much, and what he knew, he knew from games: flashes weren't good. More spouts of water erupted around him.
Uselessly, he grabbed the pistol from his belt as he continued to swim. He took a snapshot for the nearest Zodiac, hearing a wet CLICK as he pulled the trigger. He didn't know, but the weapon was now useless from being submerged. Angered, he dropped the pistol as he swam as if Death Himself was on his ass.
Aboard the Zodiacs, the men bared down. The fast raft-boat-things zipped over the waves, bouncing steadily. Aiming was quite difficult, but possible. The terrorists had loaded the LMGs with the normal 3:1 ratio. This simply means for every 3 normal bullets, there was 1 tracer round. The normal as 4:1, but the terrorists had opted for more to make it easier to walk the cone of fire to the targer; also, more tracers would probably scare the target more. The lead Zodiac's gun clicked empty first, and the two men servicing the weapon yanked the gun open, placing a new belt on the weapon, and closed it. With a tug on the charging lever, he began to fire once more. This was repeated on a second raft.
Several more spouts of water erupted as the Zodiacs began to close into the weapon's effective range. And, finally, Ken felt a sharp, hot pain in his right leg. Within a second, he felt something cut into his back. The bullet had hit his back, but only grazed it, making more of a cut than a full wound. The one on the leg, however...
As the bullets first hit, he gasped. The piercing pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. The leg one had gone right through, and hurt like an uber-bitch. He inhaled a bit of water, coughing hysterically now.
However, the bullets were going so fast, just tapping the water could possible tear them apart. If my checking is correct, the bullets (fired with a muzzle velocity of 2800 ft/s) were going almost, if not more than, twice the speed of sound. At that speed, just a few inches or more of water will guard you from the bullets. Any section of Ken's body under the water was mostly safe, making killing him that much harder. He didn't know this, though.
Again and again, he felt piercing pains in his back and legs. Finally, a bullet slammed into his outstretched arm. At this point, he was in a panic...the bullet ripped through his arm, tearing apart skin, bone, muscle, vein, and tendon alike. With a second slamming into the shoulder on the same side, the arm was completely useless. Ken finally ran out of strength, just a half mile from shore, and floated in much the same way as a corpse would. His blood seeped into the water; within an hour, probably less, sharks would be feasting on him.
One Zodiac broke off and went back to the patrol boat, which was still coming in towards Ken. The other pulled up alongside Ken, and the gunner aimed his weapon at the boy. "Tough shit, kid. Didn't follow the rules." The man at the gun felt a tiny tinge of remorse and sadness for the boy, but...he was too far removed from this to do anything more. Just before he pulled the trigger on the LMG, the Zodiac sprung forward. "What the fuck're ya doing?!" He screamed at the driver, who simply pointed to the larger patrol boat they followed around. His eyes went wide as he instinctively safetied the LMG.
The boat had failed to stop, or slow. It was aimed right for the semi-conscious Ken, who barely registered the loud vessel heading for him. The helmsman on the boat, from his vantage point, had failed to spot Ken. When he did, he didn't try to slow or stop. how heavy is this boat? Stopping won't happen. I'll just hit him. Sucks for that kid.
The rather heavy mass of steel slammed into Ken, the keel running directly over his lower chest. Pretty much ever rib (along with every other bone in the area) was snapped in multiple places by the force. His organs recieved massive trauma from the impact. Not like it mattered, though.
Along with all that, when the boat hit him, he gasped. Huge gasp, too. His lungs filled with quite a bit of water, and no amount of coughing would get it out. With every cough, he had to breath in again, and more water entered his body. His lungs burned with the need to air, but the only thing he knew was fear. He wasn't thinking, seeing...only feeling. And he felt, above all pain, FEAR. No coherent thoughts on the fear, just a deep, primal fear at the fact that he was trapped under the water. And bleeding. And had the shit beaten out of him. And...about to die. As said before, the fear was completely primal in nature, driving him to want to move, to try to surface. But he couldn't move...he couldn't do anything. He was trapped like a fucking rat, and there was nothing he could do.
Now just barely awake and alive (this was a total miracle; he should have been knocked cold, if not killed. However, somehow, he managed to stay awake), he was rolled along on the underside of the keel, bouncing as his body tried to float up but the boat slammed him down. The boat itself was bouncing on the waves, so that made things worse for Ken. However, the crew of the boat would never feel the impacts thanks to the mass of the vessel itself.
They'd sure as hell see it, though. The rear gunner noticed something red coming from the stern. He leaned over the edge, looking into the churning mass of water around the screws. This particular boat had 2 screws.
Ken's crushed and mangled, yet still barely living, body was sucked into the screws. While not really sharp, they ...sorta... moved fast. As in, holy-fuck fast. Especially for their size, but since the boat WAS going some 20 Knots. The screws quite literally tore him apart, killing him almost instantly. Speeding around, they created a slight cavity in the water; the creation and subsequent collapse of this cavity is what had sucked him in. They struck at his neck, and his legs. His head came free, but was sucked back in, only to be chopped to nothing, sinking quickly. The pieces were small enough to be fish food.
His body was sheared in two by the forces of the blades, at the waist. Each half was pulled into its respective screw, being chopped to nothingness. Skin, bones, muscles, tendons, organs, veins...all were destroyed by the thick, heavy screws of the patrol boat.
The speeding screws left almost nothing to float to the surface; indeed, the largest chunk was his upper right leg.
Blood shot to the surface, turning the churning mass at the stern red for a couple dozen seconds, before the boat left it behind. The gunner saw the leg float to the surface only after seeing more blood then they'd ever seen in their entire life. Never before had ANYONE on any of the boats seen that much blood at once. It was all the blood present in a human body, released almost completely at once. The leg itself floated near the center of the blood circle, expanding slowly in the now-softening waves. The leg leaked more and more blood, even.
"Since when do people have THAT MUCH BLOOD?!" The gunner yelled, before retching over the stern. Shortly afterwards, the portside gunners followed suit, and one of the starboard gunners lost his lunch over his gun, and the other gunner.
The Zodiac crews immediately turned away, only one of them puking in total.
The patrol boat was shortly given exact directions back to its station, which it followed. The Zodiacs just followed along, as they couldn't drif too far from their home base. None of the crew on any ship paid Ken a second thought, aside from the image of the blood being the stuff of nightmares for some time.
________
Once the vessels returned to their stations, the patrol boat's single bow gunner aimed his LMG upwards, towards the sky (not the island). He pulled the trigger for a couple seconds, launching out a dozen or so shots. He did so again, holding the trigger long enough to fire a couple dozen more bullets.
This was done as a warning. The shots had echoed across the entire island. The actual chase had possibly been heard on the island, especially if one was on that shore, but these shots, now closer to land, would probably be heard quite clearly. It was essentially saying We're out here; we'll getcha, if you try swimming.
Ken's remains sank into the depths of the ocean, most of them being eaten by sharks and other fish within an hour or so. The blood cleared up in about the same time. The last thing he'd seen or thought coherently, before being dragged under, was...That...was a cloud...
Ken had died in the cold, dark waters...alone, painfully, and slowly. Aside from the screws, he had gone through quite a lot of pain. Actually, the screws had lessened his suffering.
B111 - Ken Mendel - DEAD
[and so ends Ken. Along one of my longest posts. And either most or second most graphic death, not sure...probably most. What do you all think? >>;]
[*ahem* come to think of it, I could have made it more graphic. xD Didn't have time or want, though. I think it was sufficient...>>; still, whatcha think?]
>>;]
Quite a while up the beach from Cody stood another boy. He didn't see the others, nor hear, nor care. Hell, he'd scarecly heard the bike arrive.
He'd been awake for several hours, wandering slowly around the island. He hadn't spoken a word, after an expected 'what the hell?' upon waking up on an island. Deserted, he'd thought.
What is this, Lost? He'd wondered...until he'd read the hand book. He'd not believed it for the longest time (amounting to around 5 seconds), because he'd found the pistol in his pack. He'd stared at it for some time, not wanting to believe, but not knowing what to do.
It had come loaded, so that was no worry. The 12-shot handgun wasn't incredibly heavy, and he'd held it loosely since then.
Ken had wandered in a trance-like state the whole time, not sure what to do. Not thinking on what to do, either.
He'd arrived on the shoreline, looking out at the ocean surrounding the island. What ocean was it? He didn't know. It didn't matter.
He almost imagined seeing land...no, he did see land. Far, far away. Still, he could see it....no more than 50 miles then, right?
He didn't know it, but the 'land' was just an unusually dark cloud far on the horizon. In his mental ...state... he'd quickly mistaken the dark mass for a dark mass of a different sort. Also, in his current state, he failed to see the small patrol boat a mile or so off the island. Along with that, there were a few Zodiacs around it, flitting about. For all he knew, there could be a cruiser just a few more miles away, but he wasn't looking. Seeing 'land' had completely forced the fact that boats patrolled the island from his mind.
His face twitched into a grin as the wind whipped his hair. It would be cold as fuck, but ...he could do it. He thought he could, at least.
He didn't know it, but he'd never make it. No matter what, it would have been almost impossible. The cold water would sap his strength, the boats would tear him apart, the current would shove him away from the island and 'land'...any number of things could happen, and at least two were guaranteed. The boats would kill him, and the currents would force him away. Oh, and it was just a *bit* too far for a normal human being to swim.
He threw his bag to the ground, shoving the pistol into his belt. He hadn't safetied it this whole time, and still hadn't. He ran full speed into the water, lunging into it. He began to swim, picking up speed. It was amazing. He'd never swam this fast before, in his life. ...and it was all for nothing, too.
He didn't know it, but the second he had begun to swim, several alarms had gone off. One for each Zodiac, one for each patrol boat, and a few more in the terrorist command post. They knew he was swimming for it. The terrorist that was monitoring his escape snickered. Poor bastard doesn't even know there's no land for several thousand miles that way...
The Zodiacs began to angle in towards him, bouncing on the waves threatening to drown Ken. The gunners on the nose of each raft cocked their light machine guns, trying to get a sight on Ken. The larger patrol boat, though, was also being vectored in. Since it had a radio, it recieved direct coordinates. The gunners on the patrol boat also cocked their weapons. They had a far better vantage point, being over 10 feet higher.
_____________________
It had barely been 15 minutes, and something slammed into the water next to Ken. What the fu--- A spout of water shot up in front of him, followed by a couple more to the side.
And a couple dozen more around him. He looked to the side, and saw exactly what he didn't want to see.
Two Zodiacs and a larger boat behind it. And there were flashes on each vessel. Ken didn't know much, and what he knew, he knew from games: flashes weren't good. More spouts of water erupted around him.
Uselessly, he grabbed the pistol from his belt as he continued to swim. He took a snapshot for the nearest Zodiac, hearing a wet CLICK as he pulled the trigger. He didn't know, but the weapon was now useless from being submerged. Angered, he dropped the pistol as he swam as if Death Himself was on his ass.
Aboard the Zodiacs, the men bared down. The fast raft-boat-things zipped over the waves, bouncing steadily. Aiming was quite difficult, but possible. The terrorists had loaded the LMGs with the normal 3:1 ratio. This simply means for every 3 normal bullets, there was 1 tracer round. The normal as 4:1, but the terrorists had opted for more to make it easier to walk the cone of fire to the targer; also, more tracers would probably scare the target more. The lead Zodiac's gun clicked empty first, and the two men servicing the weapon yanked the gun open, placing a new belt on the weapon, and closed it. With a tug on the charging lever, he began to fire once more. This was repeated on a second raft.
Several more spouts of water erupted as the Zodiacs began to close into the weapon's effective range. And, finally, Ken felt a sharp, hot pain in his right leg. Within a second, he felt something cut into his back. The bullet had hit his back, but only grazed it, making more of a cut than a full wound. The one on the leg, however...
As the bullets first hit, he gasped. The piercing pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. The leg one had gone right through, and hurt like an uber-bitch. He inhaled a bit of water, coughing hysterically now.
However, the bullets were going so fast, just tapping the water could possible tear them apart. If my checking is correct, the bullets (fired with a muzzle velocity of 2800 ft/s) were going almost, if not more than, twice the speed of sound. At that speed, just a few inches or more of water will guard you from the bullets. Any section of Ken's body under the water was mostly safe, making killing him that much harder. He didn't know this, though.
Again and again, he felt piercing pains in his back and legs. Finally, a bullet slammed into his outstretched arm. At this point, he was in a panic...the bullet ripped through his arm, tearing apart skin, bone, muscle, vein, and tendon alike. With a second slamming into the shoulder on the same side, the arm was completely useless. Ken finally ran out of strength, just a half mile from shore, and floated in much the same way as a corpse would. His blood seeped into the water; within an hour, probably less, sharks would be feasting on him.
One Zodiac broke off and went back to the patrol boat, which was still coming in towards Ken. The other pulled up alongside Ken, and the gunner aimed his weapon at the boy. "Tough shit, kid. Didn't follow the rules." The man at the gun felt a tiny tinge of remorse and sadness for the boy, but...he was too far removed from this to do anything more. Just before he pulled the trigger on the LMG, the Zodiac sprung forward. "What the fuck're ya doing?!" He screamed at the driver, who simply pointed to the larger patrol boat they followed around. His eyes went wide as he instinctively safetied the LMG.
The boat had failed to stop, or slow. It was aimed right for the semi-conscious Ken, who barely registered the loud vessel heading for him. The helmsman on the boat, from his vantage point, had failed to spot Ken. When he did, he didn't try to slow or stop. how heavy is this boat? Stopping won't happen. I'll just hit him. Sucks for that kid.
The rather heavy mass of steel slammed into Ken, the keel running directly over his lower chest. Pretty much ever rib (along with every other bone in the area) was snapped in multiple places by the force. His organs recieved massive trauma from the impact. Not like it mattered, though.
Along with all that, when the boat hit him, he gasped. Huge gasp, too. His lungs filled with quite a bit of water, and no amount of coughing would get it out. With every cough, he had to breath in again, and more water entered his body. His lungs burned with the need to air, but the only thing he knew was fear. He wasn't thinking, seeing...only feeling. And he felt, above all pain, FEAR. No coherent thoughts on the fear, just a deep, primal fear at the fact that he was trapped under the water. And bleeding. And had the shit beaten out of him. And...about to die. As said before, the fear was completely primal in nature, driving him to want to move, to try to surface. But he couldn't move...he couldn't do anything. He was trapped like a fucking rat, and there was nothing he could do.
Now just barely awake and alive (this was a total miracle; he should have been knocked cold, if not killed. However, somehow, he managed to stay awake), he was rolled along on the underside of the keel, bouncing as his body tried to float up but the boat slammed him down. The boat itself was bouncing on the waves, so that made things worse for Ken. However, the crew of the boat would never feel the impacts thanks to the mass of the vessel itself.
They'd sure as hell see it, though. The rear gunner noticed something red coming from the stern. He leaned over the edge, looking into the churning mass of water around the screws. This particular boat had 2 screws.
Ken's crushed and mangled, yet still barely living, body was sucked into the screws. While not really sharp, they ...sorta... moved fast. As in, holy-fuck fast. Especially for their size, but since the boat WAS going some 20 Knots. The screws quite literally tore him apart, killing him almost instantly. Speeding around, they created a slight cavity in the water; the creation and subsequent collapse of this cavity is what had sucked him in. They struck at his neck, and his legs. His head came free, but was sucked back in, only to be chopped to nothing, sinking quickly. The pieces were small enough to be fish food.
His body was sheared in two by the forces of the blades, at the waist. Each half was pulled into its respective screw, being chopped to nothingness. Skin, bones, muscles, tendons, organs, veins...all were destroyed by the thick, heavy screws of the patrol boat.
The speeding screws left almost nothing to float to the surface; indeed, the largest chunk was his upper right leg.
Blood shot to the surface, turning the churning mass at the stern red for a couple dozen seconds, before the boat left it behind. The gunner saw the leg float to the surface only after seeing more blood then they'd ever seen in their entire life. Never before had ANYONE on any of the boats seen that much blood at once. It was all the blood present in a human body, released almost completely at once. The leg itself floated near the center of the blood circle, expanding slowly in the now-softening waves. The leg leaked more and more blood, even.
"Since when do people have THAT MUCH BLOOD?!" The gunner yelled, before retching over the stern. Shortly afterwards, the portside gunners followed suit, and one of the starboard gunners lost his lunch over his gun, and the other gunner.
The Zodiac crews immediately turned away, only one of them puking in total.
The patrol boat was shortly given exact directions back to its station, which it followed. The Zodiacs just followed along, as they couldn't drif too far from their home base. None of the crew on any ship paid Ken a second thought, aside from the image of the blood being the stuff of nightmares for some time.
________
Once the vessels returned to their stations, the patrol boat's single bow gunner aimed his LMG upwards, towards the sky (not the island). He pulled the trigger for a couple seconds, launching out a dozen or so shots. He did so again, holding the trigger long enough to fire a couple dozen more bullets.
This was done as a warning. The shots had echoed across the entire island. The actual chase had possibly been heard on the island, especially if one was on that shore, but these shots, now closer to land, would probably be heard quite clearly. It was essentially saying We're out here; we'll getcha, if you try swimming.
Ken's remains sank into the depths of the ocean, most of them being eaten by sharks and other fish within an hour or so. The blood cleared up in about the same time. The last thing he'd seen or thought coherently, before being dragged under, was...That...was a cloud...
Ken had died in the cold, dark waters...alone, painfully, and slowly. Aside from the screws, he had gone through quite a lot of pain. Actually, the screws had lessened his suffering.
B111 - Ken Mendel - DEAD
[and so ends Ken. Along one of my longest posts. And either most or second most graphic death, not sure...probably most. What do you all think? >>;]
[*ahem* come to think of it, I could have made it more graphic. xD Didn't have time or want, though. I think it was sufficient...>>; still, whatcha think?]