A Battle Scene

I want to write a battle scene, perhaps a fight for a (potential) book I'm writing...

Here goes...

Dargu raised a bloodied fist and planted it firmly into Penwicke's face. He did this several times before kicking off the gnat's that Penwicke called associates from his body. Dargu reeled, looking for a weapon, but all he saw were enemies. He swept the closest man's legs from under him with a kick, planted an earth shattering punch on another man's jaw, then crushed a third man's nose with his forehead.

Dargu managed to clear a path out of the circle of death, and rushed outside of it. He had to shoulder his way past another two men, but managed in the end. He turned frantically then, grabbing one man's punch and directing it sideways into another man's head. Yet another assailant span a kick at his head, which Dargu ducked under and allowed another enemy to take.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dargu saw a large plank of wood flying at his back. Aiming a flying back-kick at it, he shattered the wood into a dozen splinters and a fair sized plank on it's own. Rolling along the ground, he clawed at it to use as a weapon. The man who swung the plank at him in the first place was the first to taste it. Dargu was feeling the rhythm of the fight now, his movements were feeling much more fluid now. Block, kick, punch, evade, swing, block, kick, punch, evade...

The first knife he saw was in a man's hand. He kicked the hand aside expertly and brough his plank of wood down on the exposed wrist mightily. A second knife was thrown at him, he managed to catch it on the plank of wood, then draw it, and use it on the nearest enemy he could find. Slashing ribbons of red across his mounting enemies, he left a trail of blood in his wake as he cut across the room, seeking Penwicke again.

His knifing frenzy went up a gear, grabbing a man around his throat before slitting it, he automatically pulled the light sword he had been carrying. Suddenly, the tiger's tooth got bigger. Dargu's attackers were less haphazard this time, approaching with more caution, and drawing swords of their own. Spotting a hesitation like a hawk, Dargu leapt on him and buried the sword in his chest. Immediately, he turned and slashed at another face, then shoved the sword into a third man's throat. Stepping forward through the thinning line of attackers, Dargu worked himself into a frenzy once again, blood frothing in the air all about him.

He dueled a tough fighter who was as quick as he was big. Dargu took him out with a slash across his legs, before opening his throat. He took on another smaller man, who couldn't have been a boy. He'd never live to be a man. Surrounded, overwhelmed, and frenzied, Dargu knew there was no stopping him, nothing to lose, not a damn thing on this Earth that could calm him - except Penwicke's blood.

He finally faced him on the platform. Penwicke was still trying to stem the tide of blood from his nose, almost not noticing Dargu standing over him with a sword slick with gore. "I think it's broken..." Penwicke proclaimed limply.

Dargu picked him up by the neck and gutted him like a fish.

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Bleed with me

k, just gave blood, and saw a video clip of the Prodigy's "Breathe" the other day (hence the title), also the Buffy the Vampire Slayer Chaos Bleeds game - particularly the contraption in the blood factory lol... so it's all mishing in my head...

There's no excuse for pain.

You could bleed and bleed and bleed yourself out into that little plastic bag of life for someone, but there's no excuse for pain. It always hurts more than it should.

You see, that's what they keep us for, to stay alive, they don't mean to hurt us.

From the moment those needles come down and drain each body of it's life-giving gift, it's always just borrowed.

The vampires have set up their machinery fo the most efficient way of garnering enough blood for their supply. Strange steam-driven machines with thin spindly arms ending in needles with tubes attached to pumps, the needles plunge into each future corpse's body and drink deeply so that they might live. I watch the conveyor belt as each future corpse is laid on the belt, strapped down to stop their futile fighting, and then pushed on a production line into the machine's reach. The machine sucks each body dry. The pain is momentary, the shock of dying is much more severe.

Some continue fighting - they must have a huge repair bill on that machine - some simply give up all for lost.

None of them have learnt like I have, that it is merely life, once again feeding on life. Just as we eat fruits and vegetables, these creatures of the night feed on us. In olden times, they would stalk us, chase us into scary corners of the city, then move in for the kill like a lion moving on wildebeest.

Now, they grow accustomed to their armchair existence, watching as their farms grow more and more productive. Some farmers even talk to their humans - affectionately calling them cows before herding them into the machine rooms with their cattle prods.

Some even put on weight these days, which is certainly much healthier than they used to be, all sinew and bones.

They say there is a human resistance out there, causing trouble, and killing lots of both vampires and humans, but this of course is futile. The vampires rule, now. They look after things much better than we ever did.

Well, today is my day. I'm going to give my life, so that they can have theirs. In a way, it would be kind of romantic and intimate to be killed by just one of them, and having your own death mean so much and give so much life to another creature, but this way, there is less pain, less blood lost, less everything.

I have written this note to whomever of you vampires drinks my blood... I want to let you know I'm giving my blood willingly, so that you may have your life. I want you to know that I wish you all the best, and I hope that you lead a good life. I hope you never get sick, never get old, and never die, because that is why I'm giving you my blood. I love you dearly, and I just know you will be happy in your life. You are far better than I could ever hope to be.

Lots of love,


Daisy.



...meh, not quite happy with the ending there... but I might work on it later... see how I go.

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Vampire silliness

This is just a silly idea which occurred to me last night.

...she saw him standing like a bloodied crow on the windowsill. It was the moment she'd been praying for for years. He was here. He had come to take her away into the night. Grace got up from bed and walked over to him, fingering her necklace nervously.
"My dark Lord, I am yours!"
He sneered with joy at her and leapt to her neck, his fangs blazing glory in the twilight. Grace felt pain at first, then a rush like nothing else on Earth as he drained her. She felt her heart pounding with quickness, then a howling so inhuman... the constant howling, speaking of such great soulless pain and suffering...
She came to herself rather abruptly as she realised the Crow had stopped drinking and was looking at her strangely.
"My Lord, is it done? Am I your immortal slave now?"
The Crow stared at her and looked almost... afraid? He'd held his hand over his mouth
"My Lord...? I'm still bleeding, surely you thirst for more..." She offered herself to him once more, her blood steaming out of her artery. She was beginning to feel light headed now, surely her entry to immortality should be better than this?
The Crow stared fearfully, still covering his mouth, dripping blood between his fingers and down his chin.
Grace lost her patience at his hesitance.
"Hey, bleeding to death here, aren't you supposed to drink?!?"
"I broke my tooth on your necklace!" whimpered the Crow.
Grace was stunned.
"Oh."
The awkwardness seemed to be breeding babies of awkwardness, it was just soooo... awkward.
"Oh, well... uhm... I guess it... happens..." Grace said, fumbling for her dignity, and something to bandage the blood gushing from her neck.
"Wait, you don't think I'm less of a vampire, do you?"
"No, darling, it's fine."
"But I can still take you..."
"No, it's alright, it's fine."
"But we were so close..."
"No, I'm fine, you're fine, we're all fine. OK? It's fine." Grace somehow stopped the bleeding with her nightgown, and started guzzling water deeply from a bottle. She started feeling better (though not the kind of better she had been hoping for) and crawled back to bed.
The Crow looked heartbroken - more so than usual - and skulked to the foot of the bed. "Grace, this can't be the end. We need to be together, you and I, in darkness for all eternity..."
"Oh, I don't know..." Grace looked out the window thoughtfully, "Look, I guess I should tell you. There's another creature of the night, dear. He's a werewolf. He's always there, dependable, loyal... and his bark definately leaves a LOT of potential for his bite..."
"It's that cad, the Claw, isn't it!???" Crow sulked a little more. "I hate him! He is so... HAIRY! How could you, Grace? What did I do to you to drive you to him???"
"No, no, no, darling, it's not you, it's me. You're a wonderful, wonderful vampire, and I'll never forget you. You'll always be my special little guy." Grace's smile was so sweet it made Crow sick to (what was left of) his teeth.
"Then this is the end?"
"Yes, dear. I'm sorry."
Crow sadly stepped back out the window before turning back. "Will I ever see you again?"
"Oh, maybe, one of these days, we'll meet again and we'll be best friends."
"...but werewolves don't *like* vampires..."
"Don't trouble yourself, dear, it's fine. We'll be fine. Goodnight." Grace slammed the window on the Crow and shut the curtains.

"...can I have my tooth back?"