Part 230: John Versus Titus
Titus ducked around a corner, grabbing his shot gun from his back holster. He tried to load it up as he ran. John quickly stopped and pulled out an arrow, and fired at him. The bladed stick ripped into Titus’s lower calf as he ran, making him collapse. John then rushed him and grabbed the shotgun. As they struggled with it, the blast went off; shredding a nearby tree’s bark. Titus then jolted the weapon upward, slamming it into the archer’s face. John fell down hard. The soldier cocked his weapon back and John quickly grabbed it again.
Titus fired off a second round, smacking some nearby bushes. John then slammed his elbow into the soldier’s face, making him split blood. Titus grunted, then punched him across the jaw, making him buckle. The archer felt on his back again. The Liberator hissed intensely and prepared to cock back his shotgun a third time. He stepped back; fully expecting John to make a play for his weapon again. Titus then jerked as he felt a sharp piece of metal invade his belly.
He looked down, seeing John’s extended hand shoving an arrow into his gut.
John took his moment’s shock and grabbed the shotgun away from him. Titus slowly backed up against a tree, watching his blood pouring out of the wound in his belly. The archer caught his breath and slowly walked up to him, holding the gun in place. “Good job, John,” the soldier coughed, “I . . .I . . .I never saw that coming.”
“You’re welcome,” the archer hissed.
“You gonna . . .punish me now?” Titus coughed, blood oozing from his mouth.
John said nothing. He then cocked back the weapon. The moment he did, Titus then lunched for it, holding the breech in place. John tried to shake him loose but he wasn’t letting go. As long as the breech didn’t reconnect, he couldn’t fire his weapon. “One thing I want you to remember, bow man,” Titus grunted, “Every time, you take a sweet from that squaw . . .every time. . . she looks at your face, she’ll remember ME!”
John then saw Titus’s other hand swinging toward him. He saw the small black blade, he probably pulled out of his belt. The archer rolled with the coming plow, screaming as the knife dug into his cheek. He then grunted, shoving the shotgun forward, sending the soldier off balance. Once he let got, the breech finally cocked. John didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
Titus screamed as his stomach was torn asunder. He collapsed back onto the tree, hearing his blood cover his back. The soldier coughed, and coughed; trying to stay alive. John walked back, holding his cheek. The blood oozing onto his hand meant that he had been cut deeply. “Bastard . .” Titus whispered.
John then ran back and got in his face. “SHUUUUUTTTTT UPPPPPPPPPP!!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.
Titus cough, then wheezed. The archer then grabbed him by the hair, making him look at him. “Take all the time you want to DIE, you evil piece of filth!” He grunted.
John shoved his head back and began to walk away. He held onto his cheek, hoping the damage wasn’t as bad as Titus threatened. John was hurting; he was tired and even hungry. But he wasn’t prepared to give up.
He had to make sure Mia was okay.
Titus fired off a second round, smacking some nearby bushes. John then slammed his elbow into the soldier’s face, making him split blood. Titus grunted, then punched him across the jaw, making him buckle. The archer felt on his back again. The Liberator hissed intensely and prepared to cock back his shotgun a third time. He stepped back; fully expecting John to make a play for his weapon again. Titus then jerked as he felt a sharp piece of metal invade his belly.
He looked down, seeing John’s extended hand shoving an arrow into his gut.
John took his moment’s shock and grabbed the shotgun away from him. Titus slowly backed up against a tree, watching his blood pouring out of the wound in his belly. The archer caught his breath and slowly walked up to him, holding the gun in place. “Good job, John,” the soldier coughed, “I . . .I . . .I never saw that coming.”
“You’re welcome,” the archer hissed.
“You gonna . . .punish me now?” Titus coughed, blood oozing from his mouth.
John said nothing. He then cocked back the weapon. The moment he did, Titus then lunched for it, holding the breech in place. John tried to shake him loose but he wasn’t letting go. As long as the breech didn’t reconnect, he couldn’t fire his weapon. “One thing I want you to remember, bow man,” Titus grunted, “Every time, you take a sweet from that squaw . . .every time. . . she looks at your face, she’ll remember ME!”
John then saw Titus’s other hand swinging toward him. He saw the small black blade, he probably pulled out of his belt. The archer rolled with the coming plow, screaming as the knife dug into his cheek. He then grunted, shoving the shotgun forward, sending the soldier off balance. Once he let got, the breech finally cocked. John didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
Titus screamed as his stomach was torn asunder. He collapsed back onto the tree, hearing his blood cover his back. The soldier coughed, and coughed; trying to stay alive. John walked back, holding his cheek. The blood oozing onto his hand meant that he had been cut deeply. “Bastard . .” Titus whispered.
John then ran back and got in his face. “SHUUUUUTTTTT UPPPPPPPPPP!!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.
Titus cough, then wheezed. The archer then grabbed him by the hair, making him look at him. “Take all the time you want to DIE, you evil piece of filth!” He grunted.
John shoved his head back and began to walk away. He held onto his cheek, hoping the damage wasn’t as bad as Titus threatened. John was hurting; he was tired and even hungry. But he wasn’t prepared to give up.
He had to make sure Mia was okay.
posted by Jason | 12:35 PM
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