Snippet #1473477

P. Newman
Castle Main BLDG, 2nd Floor (F7)

Newman recoiled from the misfire, his hand familiarizing itself with the sting. Though not necessarily harsh, the feeling was strange. The gun seemed to hold the reverberations from the shot for a good, long time, and he felt that was an odd thing for a gun to do. Taylor ducked past him and was attacking a figure just beyond when the hulk of a man before him began treading forward through the ghastly pool of bile he'd sprayed onto the floor. Newman didn't have time to think as the man drew in closer and raised the Browning to fire, but was again distracted by the tension of the trigger. Why the hell does it feel this way? Too late. The former man stood over him.

BANG. A shot sounded from down the hall, a good deal louder than Newman's. BANG... BANG... Two more shots. There was a pause for him, and then the hiss of a bullet as it seared through the handless man's throat. The image was surreal- the hulk opened his mouth as if to yell, but nothing came out, not so much as a sigh. The entire mass of his body was a suspended cadaver for one whole second. His throat let out little spurts of filthy liquid that turned Newman's stomach onto its side. "Oh god..." He moaned as he lowered the Browning. The man looked as if he'd kill over immediately, but then did a terrifying thing and began to step forward.

There wasn't anything Newman could think to do, really, and he found his feet to be frozen in place. The pistol, a clear choice, was raised in an instant and pressed against the large man's chest. Newman's finger found the trigger, that hardy and resistant trigger. It tightened to pull and then, as if devoid of power, the handless body fell forward and onto him. The gun did not go off, but instead it twisted uselessly under the weight of the former man and pressed on its side against Newman's own breast as he fell too. He let out the slightest yelp as he struck the Dining Hall's floor with this great corpse on top of him.

Individual Movement