The Gunslinger Flash Renegade – The Alpha Stage (Chapter 1)


Stumbling blindly across a blazing desert, he shuffled his feet on hot sand as he tried to find his bearings. He seemed lost and maybe he was, for there were no land markings to show nor guide him to the nearest town. He wondered where he should go, since he had not seen his kind for ages. Confused by his surroundings of vast red dunes, he tilted his black sombrero sideways. Smoking constantly, he had a cigar wedged in the corner of his mouth.

He took out the dwindling cigar, looked at it, and then threw it to the ground. A silver, tin canteen was stuffed in his left pocket, the only source of water he had. His hand reached for the canteen and untwisted the lid. He sipped on the last remaining droplets of water left, sucking out as much as he could. He held it upside down and seeing no way to quench his thirst, he dropped it on the sand and kicked the canteen out in frustration.

Kneeling down on the ground, he rummaged around his small bag of supplies, looking for something to eat; he grabbed a piece of tree root and began chewing on it. He quickly spat it out, seeing as it was rotten to the core. He picked himself up and did what any opposite would do––carry on. Wearing a brown poncho and dark clothes, he kept his trusty handgun at his side at all times.

He wobbled across nothing but sand. His pale skin was entirely sunburned, covered in heat blisters and numerous scratches. His blond hair was mangled and covered in sweat while his piercing blue eyes looked off in a daze. He did not know how long he was lost for, since time stood still for him. Time had no meaning here.

The ground began to shake all around him. He fell backwards. His eyes glanced at every angle, every direction for where this quake was coming from. He started to panic and attempted to flee the scene. It was already too late from the start. Below his feet, they glided through the sand like eels.

The opposite first saw one of them bulging from the sand. He had no means of escape, for right behind him were a dozen more monsters beneath the earth, just waiting for him out in the open. They had been following him since the beginning; they could smell him, just like the others, for thousands of miles. There was no shelter for him to go to; no place to run nor hide. At such a rapid speed, he had no chance of out running them, so he accepted his fate, screaming in fear.

He took out his gun, but it was not much help to him now. Deformed, flat mouths with antennas on their heads emerged from the sand as though they were jumping fish out of water. With jaws wide open, each one dug into his flesh, tearing off the skin right off his legs with their feelers. One came down from the sky with massive wings and eight, bloodshot menacing eyes; it ripped through his bone and muscle effortlessly with its beak, swallowing his limbs in chunks.

He was still squirming when it happened, being eaten alive by every living thing on the planet. Various tiny insects crawled up his neck, nose, and mouth crawling, slithering, creeping inside the pores of his very own skin. Little by agonizing minute, they began nibbling on his insides, the juicy parts of his eyes, his brain, his organs, including his crotch, the best part. He choked in blood and venom from the poisonous eighteen legged scorpions, bitting his tongue. His skull and body was severed by several animals, big and small, ones with gigantic wings, stingers, ones with claws and talons, tentacles, and galore.

Every insect, every bird, every reptile, and every mammal wanted a piece of him at the same time, despite the fact he had tried desperately in vain to flee from these hideous creatures. Some had no eyes, others had several mouths, and most terrifying were the ones he could not see. Sand went flying as one by one each stole what they needed from him. Smashing through his stomach, they spilled out all the contents in his intestines: they gorged on his liver, his lungs, his stomach, his scrotum, his bladder, and whatever else they could find. They made a splash in a sea of his own blood.

Due to his biological genes, testosterone was in rare commodity these days. For the creatures of this new era could not easily miss him––he was like a bull’s eye, a moving sexual target. He was the prey. One dominated in a world like this, without the assistance of another. In fact, only one kind thrived here and it was not opposite gendered. It was a pair of chromosomes, the homogametic sex.


Copyright © 2012–2013 by W.D. Lady


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