Kain gritted his teeth against the pain as he made his way up the stairs, every step sending pain shooting through his leg. He would make it, the bullet had just passed through his thigh, narrowly missing his femoral artery, it was incredibly painful, but he would make it. Outside the gunfire was at an all time high as the streets of the city erupted into chaos.
There was an explosion somewhere above him as he reached the third floor landing of the apartment complex, Kain paused for a moment, clinging to the stairway railing for support. Outside he could hear the sound of a machine gun firing almost non-stop, and a significant amount of shouting that didn’t sound like it was coming from armed men.
“Shit...” he mumbled as as limped towards the nearest door, slamming into it with his shoulder so that the aged wood broke and gave way under his weight.
They were massacring the civilians now. There was another explosion above him, this one much larger, probably from a mortar shell. Kain stumbled across the room to the window on the other side, finally resting his injured leg on a dirty mattress as he dropped to his knees. Outside in the street the fighting was even more vicious then when he had left no more than five minutes ago.
Kain flipped the safety off his rifle and began firing at the guerrilla fighters in the street. The first was a young man, crouched behind a car, but clearly visible from Kain’s vantage point. Kain put two rounds into him, the first missing but the second splitting his skull open. Kain shifted into a more steady firing position and gazed back down the iron sights of his rifle. There was shouting below as the guerillas realized that the gunbattle was shifting in the favor of the soldiers.
The second was a older man, bearded and intimidating, he was standing in the middle of the street a little back from the firefight, shouting orders at other guerrillas who were rushing to aid in overrunning his brothers in the street. The first shot hit him in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards, but he remained standing, so Kain put two more into his chest. The man fell after the second.
The third was another young man, holding a live grenade and charging towards the checkpoint his brothers were trying to hold, Kain shot him dead before he reached it, shortly after the body exploded, spreading gore everywhere. The fourth was a middle aged man, hiding behind a barrier, Kain shot him in the throat, and didn’t bother with another round as he collapsed to the ground and bled out.
On the floor next to him hot shell casings were melting the surface of the mattress he was resting on, and his blood was slowly soaking the fabric that wasn’t being burned. Kain killed a fifth man as he moved from one car to another, sending him falling onto himself as Kain shot him in mid-sprint. Someone finally took notice of the sniper who was annihilating their forces below, and pointed in the direction of the building he was in, Kain shot him in the face as he pointed, six.
Rage filled him inside. Once this city had been peaceful, trade had been flourishing, and people had been happy. Now there was this, men shooting each other in the street, and he could still hear the sounds of a massacre going on nearby. The seventh was making a run for the entrance of the apartment building, Kain shot him in the head, blood spraying all over the street.
Kain cursed as another one ran across the street, jumping over the body of his friend as he rushed for the entrance, but Kain’s rifle was empty. He quickly dropped the clip and loaded another, catching his eighth in the shin bone as he sprinted after three of his other friends who had made it inside while he was reloading, Kain let him lay screaming in pain in the street.
There were thunderous footsteps coming from the staircase outside. Kain shot number nine as he rushed the checkpoint, hitting him at the base of his spine. Kain cursed again as the footsteps got closer, grabbing his last grenade and quickly removing the pin. Kain waited until the guerillas made it to the floor he was on before he tossed the grenade out into the hallway. Kain dropped onto his stomach and covered his ears as the grenade exploded. Ten, eleven, twelve.
Back on the street even more were rushing into the apartment building where Kain was, shouting and firing their weapons into the sky as they stormed inside. Thirteen, Kain hit one while he let out some sort of battle cry, his shout fading into a bloody gargle when the round hit him in the throat.
Fourteen, back of the head, running to help his friend who’d been shot in the throat. Kain drew his handgun with one hand as he killed fifteen with three rounds to the chest as he took cover in the wrong place. Outside there he heard the sound of people rushing upstairs again, halting for a second when they reached the grizzly remains of the first three. With one hand he killed sixteen through the thin apartment wall, and with the other seventeen fell in the street, bleeding to death with a hole in his thigh.
Kain shouted as he fired his handgun into the hallway “C’mon you bastards! Come get a piece of me!” Eighteen died when one hit him in the head.
His last rifle round blew open nineteens head as he shouted for more help to ‘Get the capitalist-dogs’ sniper’. Kain dropped his rifle and held his handgun with both hands as he and twenty exchanged fire when he burst through the remains of the door.
Kain coughed up blood as he reloaded his handgun, spraying its sleek steel with his blood. They were much more cautious about just rushing onto the landing now, Kain could hear them arguing on the stairway below, debating how best to kill him. Kain was already dying though, fresh blood blossoming through the fabric of his uniform from his chest wound.
Then, all of them rushed him at once, storming into the room and firing wildly at Kain, who carefully aimed shots at each of their heads, covering the room with gore as he was shot to death. Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three. Kain could barely see anymore as blood drained from his body from many different places, so he shot twenty four as many times as he could, until his handgun was empty and the room was quiet.
Down on the street there were soldiers, shouting about being able to mount a counter-offensive now. Down on the street the guerrilla fighters who had stormed the city a few hours ago were retreating in disarray, their attempt to overrun the city’s central garrison failed. Kain took one last slow, deep breath and closed his eyes, wishing he had better company to die with than the bodies that littered the room...
My blaster will be the one that breaches your hull!