Tag: Action

100 Word Story – Hold Up

Police was all around me, surely surrounding the building from every possible exit. The sound of helicopter blades whirled overhead, and the local media was trying to cover the entire event from safety behind the barricade of cars out front.

I pointed my gun at one of the tellers, “You, redhead. Get over here!”

It was a man, and he readily followed my instructions, knowing his life was in danger if he didn’t listen. When he got in front of me I smacked him across the face with the pistol and grabbed his neck, holding him close.”

“Follow me, bitch.”


Copyright © 2019 by Luka Tatsujo

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Binocular Overwatch

It was just another day out on the town, looking around for anybody else still living in the streets. Although I knew the streets like the back of my hand, I decided to play it safe and observe from a nearby rooftop.

I dropped my rifle down next to me, and leaned against the edge of the room, looking down at the streets below.

From the corner of my eye I saw something speeding down the street, somebody struggling inside of a car.

I put my binoculars down for a moment and tapped my earpiece, “Found another loner.  Engage?”

“Like I said, Nao, it’s your call.”

“Roger that.”

100 Word Story – Combo

Left, left, right, left.

Kai repeated those words in his head as his fists pounded away at the punching bag in front of him, it lightly swaying back and forth every few strikes. Every few punches, he would weave around the bag, dipping and diving as if it could retaliate against his assault. Through calm, slow breaths and timing, his heartbeat managed to stay in a relaxed state and his body barely feeling fatigued.

Finish it.

Pulling his fist back, Kai launched forward and punched the bag, his fist going straight through to the other side.

“I’m gonna destroy him.”


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What is A Human?

War has always been a favorable pastime of mine, enjoying the destruction and misery brought about to the enemy troops when they’re outmatched. Seeing living bodies become cold corpses, the sound of gunfire and cries of defeat, taking control of the enemy bases and camps, all of these made war fun.

The absolutely best part was always confronting the enemy leader, and making a mess out of them with ease. An army is only as strong as its leader, and I’ve yet found one that was able to best even my most basic of infantry. 

Salazar swore he was prepared to deal with somebody such as myself. I proved him wrong. 

My lungs filled with the scent of gunpowder and despair from the battlefield as I took a big huff of air.

“What weaklings, the humans are. It still boggles me how so many throughout history attempted to try and unify all of them under one flag.”

In a strange burst of humility, I called out to see if he was alive, addressing him by rank, Commander Salazar.

Legends of the Dark: Child at Play (Part Five)

The only thing between me and the demon in a child’s body was the school jungle gym, a couple feet of concrete, and a wooden bat ready to swing. Melissa’s entire mouth was covered with bloody drool, her body contorting back to a spider-like shape. She growled, hungry, wanting to dig her fangs into me.

I wasn’t going to give in, wasn’t going to throw my life away. As much as I wanted to try and save her from whatever was happening to her, the only way I could do that was to put her out of her misery, put her down like a sick animal.

And from the way she was looking at me, I had no regrets for thinking that way.

Melissa’s body cracked and snapped as she positioned herself back onto all-fours. Her monstrous growls continued, stopping once to cough something up

My fingers instinctively tightened around the bat as I went to wind up. I wasn’t going to let this monster out of my sight, and I had to make sure she never got a chance to try and escape.

“Come at me, you little bitch.”

Manga Review – Machimaho: I Messed Up and Made the Wrong Person Into a Magical Girl! – Volume One

Manga Review – Machimaho: I Messed Up and Made the Wrong Person Into a Magical Girl! – Volume One

Magical powers, bow-filled outfits and hair, and a small, flying creature to overlook the protagonist—all common things found in your usual magical girl series. Destructive punches and kicks, chain-smoking pack after pack, and rage-filled attitudes with the dirty language—things usually seen in a gritty action series. Ever seen what it’s like when there’s a magical girl who loves punching things through walls, doesn’t like going to class, and can burn out a cigarette with a single pull?

That’s what Machimaho does.

Following the life of Kayo Majiba, an obvious delinquent who constantly needs a smoke, Machimaho blends the two different genres together. After a random encounter with a mythical creature, who’s job is to monitor the appearance of the Atasunmo, evil creatures who love to feast on the negative energy of others, Kayo must now take up role of protecting the universe from these evil beings. However, being the delinquent that she is, Kayo doesn’t care about any of this.

Both the art and story were done by Souryu, and publishing by Seven Seas Entertainment. Through the use of dynamic angles, detailed expressions and constant action to keep the reader’s attention, Souryu gave a great first volume. Across the first few chapters, we are introduced to a small cast of characters who each have a unique personality that either provides comedic relief, helps establish the overall story, or even helps add to the dramatic and over-the-top fight scenes. We’re given a small glimpse into Kayo’s schooling and her home life, which is anything but the ordinary life a high school student should want or have.

machimaho1-cover
(Source: Seven Seas Entertainment)

The art style is also a very good strong point. In casual scenes there are moments when a character loses their temper, and the detail, and sometimes over-exaggerated expression that are use are either scary or hilarious, based on the emotion being shown—Kayo’s face can get pretty terrifying. But when the fight scenes happen, that’s when the art is at its best. There’s extra emphasis when Kayo sends her fist flying into an enemy, forcing them to go through the walls of a building. Seeing the crater left behind in an enemy’s head and the destructive power of what they’re capable of is very well detailed; of course, that if they manage to live through Kayo’s fists and heel kicks.

Besides having a powerful art style, the dialogues and interactions between characters are actually well thought out. Although it may seem like everything just has some kind of rage or anger behind it, there are parts where we learn more about each character’s thought process instead of just seeing what they do. Well, aside from the use of panty shots after Kayo kicks or gets caught in an explosion, which I personally don’t mind, as some of the poses she’s in are pretty funny. Aside from the main story, there are single page little side stories after each chapter, focusing more on Kayo’s off time, a nice little touch in between fight scenes.

On the surface of the story, Machimaho will come across as a renegade magical girl story, which is totally fine. But do keep in mind, it’s not Sailor Moon or Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica; right of the back, that’s noticeable. Souryu took a popular theme and put a new spin on it, and it’s pretty solid. And after reading it all the way through, to the introduction of Kayo’s potential rival, I can’t wait to see how much more ass she’ll be  kicking.

Want to read it for yourself? Machimaho is currently out in print and digital copies on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other major book retailers.


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100 Word Story – Bullet

A bullet past near me, grazing me across the side of my eye—if it was a few centimeters more to the left, I would have surely been blind in my eye. However, I knew Ming wasn’t that shallow of a person.

I changed the frequency of my headset and went to the one she was on, “Why did you miss on purpose?”

Through the headset I could hear the sound of an empty shell being ejected from her rifle. Her voice was calm when she replied, “I was making sure I was calibrated properly.”

“Don’t miss the next one.”


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Legends of the Dark: Child at Play (Part Four)

Now was the time I had to decide what my next plan of action would be. From the way things were going, it was starting to become obvious that Melissa couldn’t go back to being a normal girl, that she was no longer a normal human.

I had to see her in a new, darker kind of aspect. I started to have twisted thoughts as she was twisting her body back into place. There were so many things that didn’t make sense, but it didn’t matter right now.

Right now, I had to save myself. 

Looking at the door was a mistake. When I looked back at the tree, Melissa was gone.

My eyes scanned every leaf on that tree, keeping a lookout for the slightest of movement. Everything remained still.

Whoever Melissa was beforehand, that little-girl identity, no longer existed. In its place was a monster trapped inside the body of a child.

100 Word Story – Plans

This was not what I hoped for. I played out this scenario countless time in my head, both while I was alone and whenever the gang got together to talk about the flaws. We planned out everything into the ground, at least a dozen times at a bare minimum.

We all knew our roles, which tools to have on us, and the entire layout of the bank like the back of our hands. We found out the shift rotation hours, we learned how to deal with hostages, everything.

But I never expected to see my own son as a hostage.


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Display of Honor

The crowd standing below me are all yelling and chanting in a frenzy, just waiting for the final verdict to be given. It has been quite some time since the last public display of force, so I can understand why they’re all so anxious to see what kind of verdict they’re expecting. However, based on the way the crowd are acting, I can tell they want everything to end violently.

“Bash his filthy skull into the pavement!”

“Don’t give him a chance to try and defend himself; he knows he did wrong!”

“Show the splatter on the mallet afterwards!”

I’ve come to appreciate the bloodlust emanating from the townspeople. But their desire is little to none when compared to my own. Ready to let this come to an end, I carefully pushed myself up from my throne and stepped up to the end of the balcony, “My fellow Tavarian people. It is time.”

The excitement of the crowd skyrocketed when they heard my voice call out to them. In almost perfect unison they all turned back towards the castle wall and gazed upward at me, cheering and applauding at my entrance. They start begging for me to give the final verdict as their anticipation is nearing its peak. Although I already knew how today’s display will end, I wanted to tease them just a bit longer.

“Before I give my verdict,” I started, “I understand the Warden would like to make sure everybody is on the same page.” Slowly raising my hand, I point towards the ironclad figure standing on the wooden stage in the center of the courtyard. Next to him is a man, bound by his wrists and ankles, thrown to his knees, and his head hanging off the edge of a stone display. “Warden, would you please.”

Placing his gauntleted fist across his chest, the Warden gave a slight bow before speaking, “Thank you, your Highness.” In a proud display of honor, the Warden then banged on his chest, the chest-plate ringing loudly across the yard, as he roared, “For Tavaria!”

The crowd let out a roar of their own, repeating over and over “For the honor of Tavaria, for the pride of Tavarian might!”

“Tavarian might is absolute. Tavarian honor submits to none,” I whispered under my breath. I felt the blazing energy from the crowd resting in my chest, but I had to keep myself under control; a queen does have their own honor to uphold at times.

The Warden couldn’t help but laugh with glee at the people, feeling joyous at the strong display from the people of Tavaria. However, he knew that this gathering wasn’t to boast, but to punish. He raised his hand and said, “At ease, all. Let us proceed with today’s event.”

Screwdriver

“Tell me, Mr. Hudson. What goes on in that thick skull of yours? You seem to the be type of person who lets their mind wander about all day and night. Or, perhaps you just do that to help you forget the worries and stressful nature of your daily life.”

Ezekial kept up his casual, back and forth pacing in the darkened room. Even with just a single, low-hanging light bulb in the center of the room, he could catch the glimmering of the various tools scattered along the ground. He picked up a small hammer, eyeing the light layer of rust on the top of the claw – the part that helps take out nails, “This could be useful. I should go through all my options first.”

Without looking behind him, Ezekial lobbed the rusty hammer over his shoulder. Before hearing the sound of crashing metal, the screaming of a man came from behind him. Ezekial’s skin hardened full of goosebumps as the man continued screaming for a bit longer; sobs and pleading started replacing the scream.

“Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to you?”

Ezekial came to a sudden halt, “‘What have I ever done to you?’ You really don’t know why I brought you here? Are you that fucking dense?”

With his face buried in his hands, Ezekial took a moment to to breath, about to let out a scream of his own, but the only thing that came out was a loud, exhausted sigh. Part of him couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of this man’s mouth. It just made him more angry, wanting to put all of this behind him. However, Ezekial didn’t want to just finish his current job; he wanted to relish and enjoy the sight a bit longer before bringing it all to an end. He looked down in front of him and saw a broken screwdriver, the head of it gone, leaving a razor-edge point in place.

Ezekial juggled the screwdriver in his hand as he turned to face the man. Placed under the light bulb in the center of the room sat a wounded man, chained and bound by his wrists, ankles and chest. Gashes and bruises mark the marked the man’s entire body, blood tricked down and formed a small pool around his feet. Chunks of his grey hair are gone, like somebody has been dragging him by the scalp.

The man could barely keep his head up to look at Ezekial. His strength reserves were near its end, and he wanted to try and use whatever he had left to try and survive the torture he was expecting to happen.

Seeing the injured man put a strange gurgling sensation in the center of Ezekial’s stomach. It was a very familiar sensation he’s come to recognize after years and years of giving into his hobby. He’s managed to see a bunch of the people who he’s had conflict with in the past and managed to find closure. Today was no different.

He crept up to Nathan, the man bound to the chair. With his free hand, Ezekial grabbed him by a clump of his hair and forced him to look up. Seeing Nathan’s bulky neck, the broken screwdriver pressed against his windpipe, just moments away from piercing straight through it with enough force.

“Nathan Hudson. Born in September of 1972. Graduated top of his class in high school and got a full scholarship to Uni of Nevada. You had it all.”

“How do you know all of this about me…?”

Ezekial’s face was covered in a frown full of hate, “I have my sources. But don’t fret. You won’t be missed.”


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— via Daily Prompt: Fret

Wine-Made-Molotov

Nobody likes a person who’s always thinking that the world revolves around them, that everything they do is the real-life version of perfection. They’ll always try to convince others that they’re the one who’s wrong and will fight just to prove a false point.

However, there are certain people who have no good proof that they’re even usable or reliable. Their constant mistakes only drag on and make certain things more difficult than it should be. And the person would even continue and try to say that they can do wrong.

When faced with the wrong person, the perfectionist will be faced with the result of their self-centered ego.

Something like that doesn’t take priority at the moment. Somebody else can take care of it.

The sounds of papers shuffling echos at the end of the aisle as he carefully turns around to avoid hitting the wine bottles organized on the wall rack. The bright ceiling light illuminates the thick, bushy facial hair hanging from the bottom of his chin.

Every time I see this mother fucker, I just wanna punch him straight in the face.