'Steamer' Frecket

LET EM SKIP THE DESCRIPTION AND GIVE YOU THIS STORY OF HIM;

Written as a short story form the book; Boneshaker


A crow called out into the silence of the street. Not even a rotter stood through the wreckage of the stone. It had been 5 years since the great Boneshaker rumbled under the city, causing the blight and the walls to rise. Then the silence was disrupted. A building three streets down exploded with shower of bricks. Rottero s shot out of the building, falling down to the street below. A man stood at the gaping hole, the goggles green lenses reflect what little light came through the fog. He knew that the noise of the most recent explosion would attract Rotters. But that was the point, wasno t it? Rotters started to crowd around the building. The man pulled out a gun shaped device, with a large funnel sticking out its front. He aimed the device towards the ever-growing crowd of rotters below. With the turn on a nob and a press of a trigger, the machine coughed, and then started to spew a strange green gas on to the party below. The moaning of the rotters slowly stopped, and the streets stood quite again. The man jumped off the building. But, much to his dismay and thanks to the special boots that covered his feet and the soft cushion of rotters below, he landed safely. His feet took off at a run down the street. To him, thato s how it always was. Being so close to death, yet missing by the tiniest bit. Rotters started to chase at his feet, not gaining distance nor losing it. The man armed the gun again, pointing it over his shoulder back at the Dead on his tail. Looking at the gun, he frowned. That and the mask, which were connected together into one thing, were all that kept him alive. They brought back memories of times from before he was behind the wall. He remembered the loudness of the gunfire, the cannons, and the airships all wrapped into one loud noise. He remembers the blood everywhere, of his friends, fellow troops, and his enemies. He remembered the bullet that took him sideways through the nose, the one that now stood lodged into his head. The bullet that caused him to forget everything from then until the doctor gave him the mask/gun. The one thing that stopped his now faulty brain from getting what it wanted. Death. He fired the gun. Once again the gas spewed out of the funnel, chancing the yellow glow to a green sparkle. Up above the now frozen Rotters and the poor young man, a crow looked down. It was lonely, unlike the other streets where they would come in large fleets. It laid its eyes on the man. He knew what the other Insiders said about the crows, the o Godso of the god-forsaken Blight. He felt short of breath as his personalized mask switched out his filters with the spare pair. The lone crow let out a loud and strange screech before it flew off. The man knew what the crow had called. In less than a second later an airship flew by overhead. The noises of its engines were loud enough that the man could here it, but it wasno t so loud as to wake up his frozen Rotters. He started to walk down the street; his half metal mind thinking between was to get itself killed, but then going back and saying o Stay alive, Stay alive.o Soon he took off again. He ran at a jog, dropping small metal balls once or twice down each street. As he dropped the final ball, the whole inside of the wall exploded with a shower of noises. He didno t know how Minnericht did it, how to make each ball go off at the right time, leading all the Rotters straight to him. As Rotters moaned towards him, he drew his gun, ready to fire again. Once again, he though, o But that was the point, wasno t it?o Before long he had almost all the Rotters at his location, and the sky became as green as grass and as dark as night. The other streets were clear, and thanks to him, people were able to move freely from location to location. At his feet, all the Rotters stood still, frozen in thought. But than came the Voice; o Thank you Frecket.o It rang through the street. The man looked up. The noise came from some sort of record player, set to go off at his usual timing. Then the young man discovered what was going on, but was too late. Soon he and all the Rotters below were blown to bits by gunfire in all directions. And within all the gore of the dead and un-dead, a crow called out into the silence.
By; Superobbyking