michael antony
Forum Regular
- Joined
- Dec 23, 2011
- Messages
- 334
- Location
- wash dc
I can't fantasize about my own death any other way than being brutally gunned down in a gang or espionage scene, especially with automatics.
This one's inspired by Leatherdude's gang shootout epics:
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At an old remote vacation cabin in the mountains, my two partners, Arne and Reno, and I meet up to split the take of our latest hijacking of one of Big Max's shipments, splitting up the cash for ourselves and splitting up the coke for sale later. We're working around an old picnic table in the backyard, right near some woods, out of sight of the road.
Being Big Max's personal fucktoy gave me access to more information than he realized, and plenty of opportunities to take advantage of it -- and I did, repeatedly, with my cohorts, all the while still being Max's arm candy and favorite bitch. Max suspected it was us for a while, but has decided to play us along just to be sure, assigning you to simply watch and report back. Now it's time to move in and deal with us. You and your partner, Aron, park your pickup on the trail out of sight of the cabin, spot us and move slowly in.
You're finally in position. Waiting until our backs are turned, you pull your guns and step out of the woods, catching us totally off-guard. As you're backing my partners away from the table and disarming them, I foolishly go for my gun, squeeze off a couple of wild shots, and make a break for the woods. I only get a couple of steps before I feel the horrible burning sting of your Desert Eagle pounding my back with lead. The force of your big jacketed slugs flings me forward. I die before I hit the ground, flopping over face-down in an awkward, twisted sprawl.
As you move toward my freshly-fallen body, kicking my pistol away and satisfying yourself that I'm dead, Aron has Arne and Reno backed up to the edge of the woods. You step over my body and join Aron in the interregation. You step around behind my boyfriends and hold your guns to the backs of their heads.
"OK, let's see if you're any smarter than your boyfriend here..." Reno and Arne are breathing heavily now, desperate and terrified as they gaze at my corpse still lying where it fell when you dropped me, somehow helpless to look away.
You start with Arne. The punk keeps insisting he doesn't know where the rest of our haul is stashed. You quickly get tired of wasting time; you snatch Arne by his jacket, and shove him back towards the edge of the woods near where my body lies.
"Well, let's see if you can help your friend remember, then..."
You pump a couple of slugs through Arne's chest, and he joins me in the dirt.
Aron grabs Reno and backs him up against a large tree near where Arne and I are cooling on the ground. He presses the muzzle of his gun under Reno's chin as Reno watches rapt and horrified while you prod and check over Arne's fresh corpse.
You look Reno coldly in the eye as you step over Arne's body, shove a boot under my gut and roughly kick my body over. As my corpse comes to rest, my head lolls to one side so it looks as if I'm looking at Reno. Reno is transfixed, somehow horribly aroused at my empty eyes and slack, vacant face gazing up at him. Aron presses the barrel of his gun deeper under Reno's chin, growling his demands while you treat Reno to the sight of his boyfriends being handled like deer carcasses.
Reno cracks and tells you what you want to know. "Finally... _Thank_ you..." you sigh, "you could've saved all this trouble if you bitches had behaved yourselves."
You pause and smile to yourself for a moment. "OK, Aron, you take him..."
Aron steps back and empties the rest of his clip into Reno, who takes a single, wobbly step away from the tree before crumpling into a sloppy heap.
Aron turns to you with a faint smile. You smile back while prodding my dead gut with your boot. "Max's bitch here is _mine_, babe..." Aron smiles wider now, and heads down the trail to bring the truck up to the house while you turn your attention to documenting the scene for Max, and searching the kills...
This one's inspired by Leatherdude's gang shootout epics:
-----
At an old remote vacation cabin in the mountains, my two partners, Arne and Reno, and I meet up to split the take of our latest hijacking of one of Big Max's shipments, splitting up the cash for ourselves and splitting up the coke for sale later. We're working around an old picnic table in the backyard, right near some woods, out of sight of the road.
Being Big Max's personal fucktoy gave me access to more information than he realized, and plenty of opportunities to take advantage of it -- and I did, repeatedly, with my cohorts, all the while still being Max's arm candy and favorite bitch. Max suspected it was us for a while, but has decided to play us along just to be sure, assigning you to simply watch and report back. Now it's time to move in and deal with us. You and your partner, Aron, park your pickup on the trail out of sight of the cabin, spot us and move slowly in.
You're finally in position. Waiting until our backs are turned, you pull your guns and step out of the woods, catching us totally off-guard. As you're backing my partners away from the table and disarming them, I foolishly go for my gun, squeeze off a couple of wild shots, and make a break for the woods. I only get a couple of steps before I feel the horrible burning sting of your Desert Eagle pounding my back with lead. The force of your big jacketed slugs flings me forward. I die before I hit the ground, flopping over face-down in an awkward, twisted sprawl.
As you move toward my freshly-fallen body, kicking my pistol away and satisfying yourself that I'm dead, Aron has Arne and Reno backed up to the edge of the woods. You step over my body and join Aron in the interregation. You step around behind my boyfriends and hold your guns to the backs of their heads.
"OK, let's see if you're any smarter than your boyfriend here..." Reno and Arne are breathing heavily now, desperate and terrified as they gaze at my corpse still lying where it fell when you dropped me, somehow helpless to look away.
You start with Arne. The punk keeps insisting he doesn't know where the rest of our haul is stashed. You quickly get tired of wasting time; you snatch Arne by his jacket, and shove him back towards the edge of the woods near where my body lies.
"Well, let's see if you can help your friend remember, then..."
You pump a couple of slugs through Arne's chest, and he joins me in the dirt.
Aron grabs Reno and backs him up against a large tree near where Arne and I are cooling on the ground. He presses the muzzle of his gun under Reno's chin as Reno watches rapt and horrified while you prod and check over Arne's fresh corpse.
You look Reno coldly in the eye as you step over Arne's body, shove a boot under my gut and roughly kick my body over. As my corpse comes to rest, my head lolls to one side so it looks as if I'm looking at Reno. Reno is transfixed, somehow horribly aroused at my empty eyes and slack, vacant face gazing up at him. Aron presses the barrel of his gun deeper under Reno's chin, growling his demands while you treat Reno to the sight of his boyfriends being handled like deer carcasses.
Reno cracks and tells you what you want to know. "Finally... _Thank_ you..." you sigh, "you could've saved all this trouble if you bitches had behaved yourselves."
You pause and smile to yourself for a moment. "OK, Aron, you take him..."
Aron steps back and empties the rest of his clip into Reno, who takes a single, wobbly step away from the tree before crumpling into a sloppy heap.
Aron turns to you with a faint smile. You smile back while prodding my dead gut with your boot. "Max's bitch here is _mine_, babe..." Aron smiles wider now, and heads down the trail to bring the truck up to the house while you turn your attention to documenting the scene for Max, and searching the kills...
