Tomyh's short stories

[LordTomyh]

Anthony ducked around the corner and opened the slide of his Mossberg 590 Shotgun, pulling some shells from one of his many pockets, Dante crouched next to him, reloading an M-16 Assault rifle; both boys had large bogs covered in ammo and smaller guns.
"Ready?" Anthony finished reloading his gun with a loud CLICK-CLICK and nodded, both boys stood up and bolted through the empty door frame, someone stood in their way and was suddenly blown off their feet, a ragged hole in their chest, heads turned at the sound and began to stumble towards it, some fell with bleeding holes in their heads as Dante unleashed a storm of .50 Calibre bullets.

Anthony stopped and fired his shotgun in a wide arc, killing row after row of the stumbling people, the bag on his back rattling like rain on a tin roof, attracting more, suddenly the Shotgun ran dry, Anthony looked from it to the horde gathering around him, "Screw You all to Hell" Dropping the gun he pulled two .50 cal Desert Eagles from his pockets and dropped people left, right and centre, Dante carved a path ahead as the two boys fought their way to a large building in the corner of the school.
A loud volley of Barrette .50 Cal gunfire echoed from the roof of the gym and dozens of people went down; Anthony looked and waved before sticking one of his pistols in a person's mouth and pulling the trigger.


"Get Moving Anthony, There's more coming your way" Another volley of gunfire opened up a path, Dante widened the gap as he ran, till he climbed over the bodies, Anthony holstered his pistols and took another 590 Shotgun from his gab, dropping several people at once before joining the other boy, more .50 cal volleys kept a wide circle around the boys, their guns and ammo drawing more in to the killing field, the boys ran past the ruined canteen and into a dead end, brick walls sat on both sides with wood reinforced with cruel metal spikes and barbed wire sat over what used to be the door to the gym while behind them was a wall of grabbing hands and bloodied mouths

"Dmitri, throw down the ladder" Anthony held the people at bay as Dante looked up at the ruined steel roof, large holes pitted the surface of the metal, a rope ladder fell through the hole furthest from the horde, Dante quick as a monkey crawled onto the roof and ran to the edge, reloading his rifle, Anthony backed up to the ladder as the people moved in, he killed another five before dropping the gun and climbing up the ladder, bloodied hands missed the bottom of the ladder by inches as he pulled it up after him.

"God Dam Zombies" Ryan sat next to them packing away the ladder, on the roof of the Gym Dmitri crouched on watch, Anthony and Dante exhaled loudly and fired into the horde below

[Damxge]

Hee hee, zombies are always fun.

Love the assortment of weapons they use. Great description and all, keep it up mate

[BladedKnights]

Awesome stories you have there Tomyh. I like all your stories, very interesting

[LordTomyh]

I wrote that years and years ago. Might rewrite that. Plus need to add new stories.

[cyclonecasey]

Oh god... You're gonna add RWBY, aren't you

[LordTomyh]

No, it's not a short story

[cyclonecasey]

Whew...

[Damxge]

He'll be putting it in the Long Stories board xD

[cyclonecasey]

I actually don't actually remember ever reading that but I gotta ask... WTF?
Dante? Zombies? Jayde's weapons? What was that?

[LordTomyh]

The low whining drone of the perimeter alarm which had continued to sound for the previous five minutes was drowned out by monstrous growls, and the screams of humans as they were ripped apart.

The young boy ducked down an alleyway between two stone-walled buildings, narrowly being missed by large bloody claws. His breath rushed, his heart pounding and his blood screaming turned to look over his shoulder at the towering werewolf creature, its face capped with a bone white mask and its burning red eyes staring down at him.

The young boy ripped his eyes forwards, stifling a scream as he ran. He had thought he was safe in his town, he never thought that he’d see one of the monsters again. His mind jumped to the day three years ago in the forest, his brother being eaten in one go by a large raven monster before it came for him, before it bit into his shoulder drawing blood and screams.

The young boy shook his head to clear it and stepped out onto the next street before stopping dead, the blood draining from his body. A massive bear-like creature was crouched in the middle of the street amid a pool of blood, it’s back to him; in one of its giant paws was a half-eaten body.

The young boy’s legs gave out from under him. His whole face had gone white, the urge to throw up was rising but he stared horrified at the body in the creature's paw, at the body of his friend.

The ground beside him exploded in a cloud of dirt, breaking the trance. Covering his head from the dirt and debris, and as the cloud cleared he looked up, the horror again filling his face, into the hungry eyes of the werewolf creature.
A growl to his right snapped his attention. The bear was staring at him, rising to stand on its thick hind legs it dropped his friend's corpse and turned on human, roaring in hunger and glee.

The young boy scampered to his feet and tried to back up from the two monsters, looking frantically for a way to escape. The monsters closed in slowly, taking their time relishing the terror, the fear. His whole body shook; his heart was beating too fast to hear anymore. He fought to keep a scream down. This was how it was, back in the forest the giant raven creature coming towards him, its beak closing around his shoulder biting deep into flesh and muscle. The creature didn’t kill him, he was pulled away to safety before that it could, but it had left him cursed, a monster, part human, part raven creature, a relative to the monsters attacking his home.

His glance fell again on his friend, the dead eyes staring back at him almost accusingly, as if blaming him for his death. The young boy choked back a sob. He hadn’t been able to protect his friend, like he hadn’t been able to protect his brother. People were dying. He had been given strength, speed, the abilities of the raven creature and the power to turn his body into a horrific bird man form. But he hid this, he hid the strengths, the powers because they had come from the monsters, the monsters that had hunted and killed mankind since time began, that attacked without remorse, without reason besides the urge to destroy mankind and its creations.

The young man was afraid of himself, of his second appearance because he feared what the townspeople would think, would do to him and his family. He hid his curse, and because of that people were dying- people were dead, his friend was dead. Because he was afraid of using his curse, his power to save them. He was afraid.

A gunshot. The bear’s paw explodes.

Another two gunshots, a hole appears in the creature's side while a hole appears in its bony mask, the burning red in its eyes fading as its lifeless corpse fell to the ground.

The young boy snapped to the sound to see a man walking down the street, a woodcutter's axe held in his arms like a gun with the head tucked under his arm and smoke curling from the butt of the weapon. The man quickly raised the axe-gun and fired off three quick-shots, the werewolf behind The young boy howling in pain as it collapsed to the ground. The young boy looked from the man to the creatures as their bodies began to dissolve into dust and evaporate, horror and fear turning to shock and awe.

“Woah.”

“Kid, are you ok?” the man asked, appearing at the young boy’s side and putting a hand on his shoulder; he had the bluest eyes, like the sky at noon without a cloud in sight.

“Kid?”

“I,”

A roar behind the man made both of them jump and turn. Another werewolf stood in the street, this one larger with several bony spikes protruding from its shoulders and forearms.

The axe man swore and raised his gun, only for the weapon to click twice. Empty. Swearing loudly like a sailor the man, a Huntsman, spun the axe around so he gripped it firmly in his hand, axe head raised and ready, and charged the creature.

The young boy watched, the horror and fear returning as man and monster clashed. Despite his skill dispatching the other two, the Huntsman found himself on the defensive with the larger werewolf, unable to get close or land a blow to injure.

“He needs help,” the young boy said, taking a step forward, but hesitating.  He was not trained; he’d never fought a day in his life besides wrestling with his brothers. He was weak, weak and a monster.
But.
The young boy closed his eyes, cursing his hesitation, his weakness. He couldn’t, he was a monster, and he was a boy, always told too young to be treated like an adult, to make adult decisions.

He opened his eyes and saw again his friend’s corpse. His nerves calmed, his hands turned to fists, his heart stilled. He looked to the man and the creature, an idea forming in his head.

No more.

No, more.

The boy flicked both wrists. Hidden under his long sleeves several of the black feathers shot from his skin, the bone white points sharp as a blade, flying through the end of the clothing like from a gun into the young boy’s hands.
No More.

Running forward, not into range of the werewolf or into the way of the man he threw the feathers like knives, producing more and more and he threw; under his clothes in the empty gaps along his wings new feathers sprouted and grew within seconds, a never-ending supply of natural weapons. The werewolf howled in pain at the feathers, no more than annoying pricks to the towering creature, but enough to draw its attention long enough.

The Huntsman started to gain the offensive, landing more and more injuring strikes and blows that worked their way up to fatal hits. The boy continued to run around the creature, peppering it with feathers. The werewolf started to slow, its movements growing sluggish.

With a loud war cry, the Huntsman swung his axe through the creature at the waist, drenching himself in soon-evaporating blood and innards as the halves fell to the road and likewise began to evaporate.

Both breathing hard, the two looked to each other, and for the first time since the perimeter alarms had sounded, the young boy smiled a smile of tired enjoyment. It felt good to kill the monsters for once.

“Come on, let’s get you sa-”

A scream cut the man off and both looked towards it.  The Huntsman took off towards the sound, the boy following a few seconds behind.



The time changes, the years pass. A new town under attack from the monsters. The young man grew up, learning and training to become just like the man with the axe, a Huntsman travelling the world protecting people and killing the monsters, the perimeter alarm droned on and on, making the young man’s blood race. He stood in a small street his new weapon, a large wheat quarterstaff raised above his head holding back the claws of a bear creature. Cowering between the man’s legs, screaming and crying in fear was a young boy, barely even eight years old.

The young man looked up to the monster, blood dripping from its mouth, and his eyes flashed red. He shifted a hand, a large black feather shooting from his sleeve straight into the creature’s eye. It back stepped, swiping at its face trying to dislodge the thing causing it pain. Taking the offense, the young man spun his weapon, landing blow after blow on the thick black fur.

Suddenly there was a sickening noise of metal burying into muscle and the creature stopped, collapsing to the ground an axe in hits back. The young man flashed a smile to the older Huntsman, the axe man now bearing a few lines on his face, and turned back to the boy cowering at his feet.

The young man bent down beside the boy, putting a hand on his back.
“Hey, it’s ok. You’re safe now.”

My whole life changed one day.

All I knew after that was fear and darkness.

You came to me on my worst day,

and you showed me courage and hope.

I still carry that darkness. It never left me.

I use it to fight the monsters,

and spread the hope you gave,

to a small frightened boy on his worst day

[Sponsored content]