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Rage (in my mind) Part 3 - Destructoid

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A gamer, a Roleplayer, a writer, a lover in search of a love-ee. Get to know me. :D


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PSN: ShadowFooot

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After the ghost stopped bleeding out, I took a few moments to search the corpse. He was heavy already, and now dead, it just seemed to add to the weight. I grunted, struggling to turn the man over. The body odor was rather strong as well. He was covered in dried blood, making out a tribal design on his chest. I wasn't sure if it was his blood, or one of the victims who had greeted me at the door, just a few moments before. That wasn't important now, just getting out of here alive is what keeps me going. The heat of the wasteland seems to zap my strength, along with the weight of the man.


There is no water from any of the water fountains, canteens or toilets. Yes I, much like you, would drink from a toilet if need be. I grab up more pistol rounds from the man's pockets and pop them into an empty mag in my vest. These will come in handy I'm sure of it. I pick up the wingstick, wipe it off on my pants and slide it onto my belt, securing it in place. I'm now looking up at a ledge, about ten feet up from where the man had come from a mere 5 minutes before. "I wonder if I can get up there?" I whisper to myself before being interrupted by mild chit chat in the next room. I manage to get a quick peak before forward rolling to the wall on my right. "I wonder how much we can get for them poor bastard's gear, eh?" One of them mutters, before I start to open fire on the two men.


I take them out rather quickly and loot them. More pistol rounds, along with a few spare dollars. Stuffing them into my pocket, I'm in shock at another hole on the side of the hotel, which has revealed the oasis that is The Wasteland. I stand there a moment or two. Taking in the air around me. I wipe a few beads of sweat from my brow and am now feeling the heat. It must be ninety to a hundred degrees now. It seemed like I stood there for an hour, before I start into another hallway, quickly ducking down behind a dresser which is covered in sand. The golden handles just barely stick out from the amount of sand that has buried it. Two more men up ahead. Time to put my wingstick skill to good use...


[To be continued. If I can actually remember the rest of the level. Haha]http://www.destructoid.com/blogs/shadauFoot/rage-in-my-mind-part-2-235607.phtml Part 2[i]



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