Street Fighter

D ran down the alley. Suddenly, a tank stepped out of the shadows, blocking most of the escape. D dropped into a fighting stance as the tank charged.

The tank stopped abruptly as D made solid contact with a left foot to the abdomen. From there he ran for an inward punch; but to his surprise, the kick had stopped, not fazed his opponent. The strike met with an uppercut that sent D flying backwards.

“I’m already being matched by this giant? Ridiculous!”

D flew into his best flurry of strikes and kicks until he began to drive the tank slowly back. His pride flourished as D realized he might actually win.

“It’s time to had to end this.”

As they continued trading blows, D finally noticed an opening. Because of the tanks massive size, D focused on taking him down from the lower points of contact and the tank blocked that quite well.

His knees released a huge burst of energy as D flew straight up and snapped one of his best front kicks… but it never landed. As his foot passed where the tanks head should have been, the tank dropped; swiping D’s feet right out from under him

“I’m done for,” D thought as his back hit the ground beside the tanks leg.

The Fugitive

The blood pounded heavily in his ears as D crouched behind the wall. He could hear the Hunter Agents moving through the neighborhood trying to find him. They broke into one apartment after another, each time spending the same amount of effort searching as many common hiding places as they could. After about the second house D knew what to expect.

As they entered the third apartment, D ran from his hiding place to the next building and just as the door opened he pulled out his Walther.

“Don’t move and keep your voices down,” he said in an almost passive tone.

“Alright man, just don’t shoot us.”

“Just keep quiet and no on gets hurt.”

Suddenly, the steps outside informed D of the progress of their hunt. They knew were he was and the agents were going to get him.

“Just keep quiet!”

The door crashed open and D could only imagine the looks on everyone’s face as the two agents came through the door, waving standard issue Glocks. They began yelling as they tore through the house; D just let their own noise cover his escape as he jumped out the second story balcony. The door to the outside looked to small to actually cover an escape, so he knew he had time working for him.

“****! He went out the back door!” the shorter agent yelled in utter rage.

“There’s a back door? That’s just a closet!” the tall one answered as he gaped outside.

D grinned in spite of himself as he ran back in the front door and crouched on the other side of the landing. The two agents came crashing down the stairs in a rush to get out the front door.

“Cool trick!” The hostage on the couch mused as D stood to leave.

“Thanks for your cooperation! And have a nice day.” D politely bowed out the front door.

Without warning, D felt a burning in my shoulder, just above his heart. Then he heard the shot. The short agent somehow managed to stay behind.

D staggered back onto the pavement and fell to the hard ground with a thud…


Silently, the breeze blew around me with gentle reassurance as D stayed low in the reeds against the base of a tree. He knew the hunter would come this way. It never took them long to track someone down.

Twigs snapped a little ways to his right… the hunter had arrived and D needed to move. He crept through the weeds silently and parted the edge, near the road carefully to locate the hunter; there he was, trying to find some trace of D without getting near any of the bushes

“He remembered our last meeting, how admirable,” D thought as the hunter moved past him and around the bend ahead.

D circled back the opposite direction, unfortunately forgetting that he wasn’t dealing with an amateur. The hunter popped back around running with his gun in hand.

He dodged as he heard the percussions of the shots ringing around him. Up ahead there D knew of a homestead he could take cover in; where the hunter couldn’t make a scene in front of witnesses. If he got lucky, the owners may not even realize D hid there.

So D dove over the outer wall into a cow pen, and heard a last “pop” as the hunter tried to kill him before D disappeared again.

D watched with interest as the hunter put his gun under his shirt and walked to the front gate. He waved a cheery hello to the owners who happened to be playing volleyball in the front yard. Then, the hunter went back to the pens where he’d last seen D and tired desperately to find any sign of him.

He felt a slight feeling of relief as the hunter finally gave up and returned back to the road where he’d come from…

“Whew!” D thought to himself as he stealthed back the opposite direction, “that one’s better than the last.” The first hunter had died a most unfortunate death from his own gun, with a broken wrist and a badly twisted neck… 


D’s thoughts fell immediately back to the situation at hand as he felt his elbow shatter under the force of a bullet. He dove over another wall on the side of the road and crawled over to the opposite side of the yard. D heard two more shots before he made it over the opposite wall and into the lush foliage of the river once again in safety.

“This one’s going to make life really complicated for awhile!” D grimaced as he began wrapping a piece of his shirt around his now useless elbow.

Fatal Acting

“This is awesome… I mean just think, after this we’re free again.”

“I don’t know, I kind of enjoyed having something to do after school,” D mused. Though somehow he didn’t sound quite coherent enough.

“D… D! Wake up, you’re like totally spaced out!” Monica said, trying to get his attention.

“Excuse me, I’ve got to do something really fast,” he’d seen it.

Someone in the crowd had a gun and it was pointed straight at him. The threat wore a white, sleeveless tee, and a pair of khaki shorts, the type with to many pockets.

Before the soon to be shooter could react D’s legs collapsed under him and he rolled forward behind a piece of scenery. Just in time as two bullets silently thudded right were his head had been. D could hear Monica gasp as she ducked and tried to look calm as she walked away.

“He won’t shoot anyone else, that would be unprofessional,” His mental dialog began to narrate. Once again on his feet, he dodged between as many people as he could and headed out the door. D was due on stage in eight minutes so this couldn’t take long.

Outside the building he broke into a run and turned left around the first corner of the theater. His assailant came running out the door and fired a shot in his direction. Luckily, D managed to make it around the next corner before the shooter got a clear view.

“I can’t keep running like this, it’s been to long.” So D ran just to the first entrance of the theater’s boiler room and used the door to hoist himself onto the roof. Rolling as he hit the shingles, D came back onto his feet as the apparently younger hitman began scaling the same door.

“He’s got skills! Well, I’m not going to live forever… but I can sure try!” The pavement below almost felt welcome, were it not for the the twelve foot drop that preceded it. The word D heard afterward just made him smile as the hitman realized his strategy.

The jog back into the theater was a good cool down and just as D stepped into the cast room he heard the call for his scene.

“D!” Before he could even turn around, a pair of soft lips pressed against his cheek. “For luck!” Monica said sheepishly as she ushered him out onto the stage.

War Games

The morning sun peaked carefully over the mountain as the rebel patrol marched towards their valley outpost. Out of the original 12 only six remained against the seemining gargantuan enemy forces. Their mission was to wipe out the furthest outpost and camp; clearing the path for a greater resistance force to pass.

“Let’s do this!” Corporal R said, pointing at the first objective.

Before any of the rebels knew what was happening shots began whizzing at them with deadly accuracy. The only logical thing to do seemed to be jump and roll. One of the rebels, Private D, landed in waist deep sludge. Unphased, he quickly banished the that two of his already sparse companions were wounded, possibly dead.

“Retreat!” D heard one of the other soldiers call.

He didn’t need to be told twice as and immediately began back-crawling out of the sludge and into a small clearing. There, the other three survivors began regrouping.

“One mag.” R said with distaste.

“Less here.”

“One and change”

“Three mags,” D rogered up.

“Split what we have and take this the long way,” R ordered. “I’ll go around the road and try to take out the sentries.”

“We’ll go straight on and distract the main guards from your advances,” Lance Corporal J offered motioning towards his brother.

“I’ll take the valley wall and see if I can get inside to wipe out whatever sentries and soldiers I can,” D said, deciding on a strategy.

Last Stand

The others split in their separate directions and D headed up the side of the mountain. As he crept along, he carefully stepped on as much solid ground as possible and stuck to the trees with almost affection. Before long his sensitive young ears picked out the voices of a couple sentries who were hidden behind a boulder right beneath him. What he heard didn’t help my situation much.

“I bet they’ll try and take us straight on, let’s go up the side and see if we can’t get an advantage on them.” One sentry said.

Both of them began creeping straight towards D. He froze; his position definitely had the advantage on these two, but with no way of knowing how many were patrolling this same area. D had to do something, these two sentries had seen right through the strategy of the two brothers.

D was in mid thought, when he saw the face of one of the sentries. The Sentry wouldn’t see him for a few more moments that might buy him some time to react. Directly below D laid a cliff that he could easily clear, and above him sheer rock that would cover a quick retreat. Though not sure why, he decided on the quicker route… and jumped.

The stream nearly swallowed him as he struck the loose bottom. Rolling once again felt like a good idea as bullets pinged off the water around him. D could hear the sentries coming back down. They would be furious that he’d had slipped past them and D didn’t want to be there to see their reactions. So, ducking and running into the next bush he began to look for someone to shoot. D froze as a soldier walked out into the road and began walking straight towards him… the soldier never saw where the three bullets that struck him in the chest came from.

A twig snapped behind the bush and D tried to shoot through it. His rifle misfired as the firing pin caught a round in the chamber. He yanked his knife out and began to lever the pin back into position. Then, the sentry walked around with a strange ceremonious type air. His smug face showed a sincere respect as he lifted his gun to fire at D. D felt sacrilege as he ducked and spun behind a nearby tree. The pin suddenly jolted back into place and he finished the spin, pulling the trigger for all he was worth.

Then, in a blind panic, D ran for the road. He totally missed seeing the soldier patrolling and it wasn’t until the shots rang through him, that he realized the mistake…