Hardcore

The fight against slavery continues. Note that the language isn't any worse then whatever violent games people who are 13 play right now, but just be mindful of the swearing.

12/04/15

He was going to die. The blindfold was on his face, but he could still hear them chambering their rifles to kill him. He knew what was going to happen, they already shoved him onto his knees. The Territorials got to him first, there was nothing he could do. After that there was just nothing. So much nothing. There was a ringing, it was painful and he felt a little like he was spinning. There was more loud sounds and he laid on his side, trying to curl up from the pain. There was a loud, fierce sound that sounded human, but his ears were still ringing really bad. After several more seconds, he was pulled up by a strong arm to his knees again. He could feel a knife up against his hair, but it simply cut the back of the blindfold. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, his head still aching from the experience. A face looked down at him, with a heavy beard and a rough face.

His lip was split, his nose looked bruised, and the places under his eyes looked sore. Jeremy was tearing up still, it was hard to tell if the person looking down at him was really tired or had been crying a lot recently. The man lowered his arm and cut the ties that were around Jeremy's hands. After that the man put his knife back into it holster that was hidden under his pants, just above his boot. Jeremy looked over the four a******s who had been about to execute him, but he found himself blinking again. He looked over to one side and then the other, but it was just the two of them now. Whoever the hell this guy was, he killed all four of them by himself and he had done it rather quickly. Jeremy turned his head back to the stranger and noticed rifle resting on his chest. It looked like one of the AKs he had seen in video games before, but some work had been done to it.

“Who are you?” Jeremey asked, trying to speak normally even though his head ached and his ears still rang.

“I kid you not, but I am called 'Nobody'”. The rescuer replied, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the ringing but not enough to add to Jeremy's headache.

Jeremy was pulled to his feet with both hands, each of them locked on his shoulders. One of the arms went around him and 'Nobody' let Jeremy lean on him, helping him to walk a short distance. After that Jeremy had calmed down enough and was starting to feel a little better, so he was allowed to walk on his own. Nobody walked over to the bodies and checked them, before finding a helmet that wasn't damaged for the most part. He found a body that had intact webbing and body armor, which he pulled off of it. Jeremy got down with him and helped him loot the bodies, trying not to throw up from the blood everywhere. After about half a minute, Nobody was helping Jeremy into the collection of armor.

“What size is your foot?” Nobody asked him.

“Nine and a half.” Jeremy replied.

Nobody was already pulling boots off the bodies and checking them, to see if they were in the right size. Jeremy noticed that Nobody was wearing the same boots, he was carrying the same webbing and body armor too. This wasn't the first time that Nobody looted some territorials. Nobody set a pair of boots on the floor and then checked the rifles to see which were the most clean. He filled his webbing with some of the magazines he could loot and then checked to see Jeremey's webbing was filled too. Jeremey picked up the two boots and then held them from the top with one hand, while Nobody put the sling of a L85 on his other arm. Nobody put one of the rifles on one of his arms as well, before standing up. Jeremey got up with a bit of effort, as he was pushed to his knees violently earlier. He followed Nobody a bit of a walk, turning his head to look back at the bodies and then at the blindfold on the floor.

“Why are you called Nobody?” Jeremy asked

“Because I'm a dead man walking, my name would just be haunt you whenever you heard it.” Nobody replied

“What happens when someone says “nobody” when they are just talking?” Jeremy questioned

“The idea is to forget about me, I don't exist.” Nobody explained “Life is short here, you were just showed that. It's kill or be killed, next time they might get the drop on me and not the other way around.”

“You killed all five of them all by your f*****g self?” Jeremy inquired, stopping as he thought about what that would mean.

Nobody turned a bit and looked back at him, giving him a seemly cold, vacant stare.

“Of course I did, no one else is here.” Nobody replied, before turning around and going back to walking.

“Dude, you are a f*****g beast.” Jeremy concluded “You some kind of tier one operator?”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Nobody answered with even looking back. “I'm a militia leader, ex-national defender. It's the unit between the police and army.”

“Well what were the guys who grabbed me?” Jeremy asked “Territorials right?”

“Territorials are more or less what I used to be, except they are meant to oppress rather then protect.”

“So you aren't from anywhere around here? You aren't from the Federal Kingdom or the Democratic Confederacy.”

“I'm from Vadia. I'm here because we can't afford to deploy huge standing armies left and right.”

“They sent you here?”

“No, no one sent me. I was not sent by mi'liege, nor by The One Who Gave Light.”

“So why are you here?”

“It's more or less wrong to turn down a chance to kill slavers.”

“Wow, you are really hardcore. I guess that is why you are in charge of this militia you talk about.”

“They just call us terrorists, because if you aren't a slaver you must be one. I don't recall using force to strike hear into the civilians for a political motive.”

Author's Note

I am trying to make Jeremy's language informal and almost "white bread", like a clueless teenager or adult male. I think he should've used more slang but that might make this harder to read.