34 Rounds [Part 1]

Posted: Monday, 9 May 2011 by Unknown in Labels: , , , ,
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Since writing in parts in the new black I obviously have to get in on it. So here's a short story that I have no idea how I will conclude.

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34 Rounds
-pt.1-


I wake up on what feels like a particularly uncomfortable hospital bed. How did I get here? I open my eyes. My vision is blurry. My head feels like it’s about to split open as I sit up. I look around, my eyes half closed, my forehead throbbing with pain. I’m shaking. “I’ve been drugged” I tell myself sagaciously.

The room I’m in is three by four meters, there are no windows, the walls are covered in fine very bright white plaster (may be hollow, also the color adds to the head ache), no windows, a door, there is a table with a black gun shaped object (probably a gun) some way away from where I’m sitting. “Get the gun!” I order myself. I cannot properly stand so I sit and inspect the room further. I can hear a deep rattle coming from inside the walls. “Probably a venting system; I’m underground …” On the far upper corner of the room there’s a black speaker.

I finally get myself up. My feet feel as stiff as tram rails. I lurch myself slowly across the room to the table. “Get the gun!” I order myself. In my hand I’m holding a 9mm Beretta Storm. I pull out the magazine, “seventeen rounds, none in the chamber.” I slide the magazine back in and pull the slide.

[SFX: irritating buzzing noise followed by interference.]

I jerk around suddenly. The speaker on the wall is in my sights. “Calm down, it’s no threat to you.” Says the speaker reassuringly. “Do you remember anything, name, age, affiliation with any group or organization?”
I cock the gun and slide to the left-hand side of the door and hug the wall. “Calm down and answer!” the speaker says with a tinge of frustration. “No!” I answer as I look around for a hidden camera, anything. I see nothing. The adrenaline just gave me the focus I needed.

“Perfect. Here is the situation: you have voluntarily offered yourself to be part of an experiment. Due to the nature of this test you have been drugged. You will probably have trouble remembering anything but the training you have received for another hour or so. Your goal is to escape this facility. Your obstacles involve traps and live fire from trained personnel. You can use anything you find fit to complete your task. Friendly hint, there’s another magazine for your gun inside the drawer right under the table. Good luck!”

I grab the ammunition from the table and I make my way out of the room. The dark lit corridor I’m in has a draft, the smell is damp but there’s a slight aroma of cigarette smoke in the current. I follow the smell to an intersection. There’s a puddle of drying blood at my feet, probably five or six hours old. I find a 9mm bullet casing on the ground. “Poor bastard, didn’t have time to aim.”

Voices echo along the walls. My heart rate goes up, my breathing is steady. I ready my weapon and walk slowly toward the voices. “… the third one today … Ha! Ha!” one voice echoes. “… this is the best job ever …” another voice, “Cannon fodder, all of them.” The smell of cigarette smoke just got a lot stronger.
The corridor leads into a larger section segmented in separate rooms. The guards are all bunched up in a small chamber to my right, three or more of them. “I’m gonna take a piss …” a distant voice declares lazily. “THIS IS MY CHANCE!” and I rush leftwards by the rooms. I fly past several poorly decorated chambers, just chairs and tables. The damp smell of a basement is all about. I finally find the toilets at the far end of the corridor.

The guard is very careful at making as much noise as possible. I can hear him trotting across the corridor passing all the rooms I just passed. He’s in no hurry. He just stepped inside one of the adjacent toilet cubicles.
“Oh yeah, here it comes …”

[SFX: pissing sound]

He comes out of the cubicle. I grab his arm and twist it behind him; he bends like a stripper as I fix my arm round his neck, with my right I bring the muzzle to his temple. “In five seconds I’ll let go of you. If you move I put 3 pullets in the back of your head.” I let go and take a step back, the gun pointed at his head.
The guard is now facing away from me, he is scared. Probably has something to do with me having a gun to his head. “How many of you are inside that room?”

“F-f-f-four.”
“Good. Weapons?”
“SMG standard issue and c-c-combat knives. One or two grenades.”
“What’s the way out of this place?”
 “I d-don’t know. The corridors are like a maze, but there are elevators.” He suddenly turns and tries to disarm me. I knee him in the testicles. As he falls to his knees I hit him in the face. He falls flat and tries to run. I grab his head as he gets up. The neck gives way with a sickening crack and he falls to the floor. “Not done with my questions sadly.”

I place the corpse neatly on one of the toilets. The knife the guard had will make for better conversations later, if any.

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