Lawrence V

Writing excerise: The Frozen Attack

Posted in Uncategorized, Writings by Larry on June 3, 2008

This is a writing exercise that I did today. I just wrote a random scene to get words on the page.

Mike kicked back and flung himself against the wall. With a sudden crash his lungs collapsed momentarily from the force of the impact. He wasn’t expecting that, although he had one thing going for him, his plan to remove himself from view of the window had worked flawlessly. Well, maybe not flawlessly, he was now pinned up against a cold stone wall gasping for air. The two men outside the window couldn’t continue their search out there in the cold. Mike stayed gasping for air as quietly as humanly possible until he regained his sharp focus. Mike leaned out and peered through the frosted window. He could see one man in the distance about twenty yards away using an axe to smash windows on the far side barn. He was yelling something but from this distance in the wind it was no use, though it probably was Mike’s name or something far more horrifying.


The second man that Mike had first seen when he jumped back from the window was no longer in sight. Mike twisted and angled his neck in an jackknife so he could try to see to the sides. He pulled back when his cheek brushed the glass and sent a sharp sting of cold into jaw. He couldn’t find the second man. The fear of not knowing suddenly snuck up on Mike’s mind like a sickness. Mike backed from the window and scanned behind him into the shaded garage. Shadows littered the open dark space and in the far corner sat two strange large objects. Mike took one step away from the window hoping to get a realization as to what those two objects were. He knew that they were most likely something obvious but under the knowledge of not knowing the location of the second man, his brain wasn’t working right. Between the pounding of his heart and the deep bass of his breaths, Mike lost the ability to hear the footsteps. Footsteps that maybe could have been heard if Mike stayed focused at the window.

With a clash of iron meeting glass and the glass smashing into the concrete garage floor, Mike jerked back. He was so startled that he jerked himself right off his feet and fell hard to the cold hard floor. The man that appeared in the window looked to have a purpose, and he was coming in. His entire body was covered in a deep blue cloth. The only reason Mike could tell which part was his head was either by it’s shape or because the man whore a dark set of goggles to protect his eyes from the bitter cold. Mike slid himself across the floor fearing that his legs wouldn’t listen if he asked them to get up. The frigid cold air flowed in and around Mike like smoke stack. Mike wasn’t dressed like the man assaulting in from the window. He wasn’t covered in a protective cloth nor did he have goggles; he was exposed to nature’s icy breath and immediately his eyes began to burn from the cold air’s bite. Mike, seeing the man through watery eyes, realized he was reaching in and unlocking the window. The man leaned his left arm in through the window and unlatched the lock. Mike had to get away, he had to move. Mike stood and turned back to the garage. With the window shattered he could see two snowmobiles in the back corner, neither of which Mike had keys for. His plan for the moment was to get to that corner. He ran the couple of dozen feet hoping to realize something along the way; a clue or understanding of what his next step should be. He stopped once he reached the snowmobiles looking around. He liked having a plan, a focus to keep his attention, and now that his plan had ended at getting to the back corner he was starting to panic. Mike glanced back to the window and saw that the large man was now in the garage. Mike couldn’t see the man’s face but could swear that he enjoyed torturing Mike and coming to the kill. Mike quickly looked around for a tool or a weapon, something that he could use, there was none. With lowered hopes Mike found an empty coke can on the dusty floor. He reached out and snatched it. The big man stepped closer slowly, seemingly taking his time. Once in reach, the man threw forward the head of a red fire axe he had clenched in one hand faster then Mike ever thought possible. The base of it rammed into Mike’s gut and he crumpled to the concrete. He wanted to cry out, beg for forgiveness, but Mike knew these men. He knew it was pointless. The large man hesitated; he didn’t finish Mike through. Mike had been in panic mode since he reached the snowmobiles. His lack of an idea of what on earth was he going to do scare the hell out of him. He might not survive this. He had to survive, and just after the man hesitated killing Mike, Mike had a plan pop into his head. Mike clenched his gut and let out a whimper. He focused all his energy on selling his performance of being the wounded soldier. The man crouched down next to mike and reached out grabbing a fist full of hair, lifting his head back to meet eye to eye. Mike imagined how bad this would have hurt to have this man’s sausage fingers pulling on his scalp. That is when his head wasn’t already numb from the cold air rushing in through the broken window.

Mike leaned back as far as he could against the man’s strength and shot his right arm up fast in a stiff uppercut. Instead of a fist Mike held the frozen empty coke can, and crushed it into the man’s face. Mike couldn’t tell through the cloth where his mouth or chin was, but he knew he had to come under the goggles or else the can would just be deflected. The man fell back in surprise. He looked to have no idea what Mike hit him with but was aware it was more then his fist. At the chance, Mike slid his left arm under the axe and caught it before it even hit the ground. The man fell back as Mike stood up. Mike didn’t hesitate and gave the axe right back to the man by planting it in his skull.






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