Gauntlet: New Legends
Ziefer was becoming animalistic; his fighting became more and more erratic as the number of beasts slowly reduced. A Licker shot its evil tongue at me, which I dodged with ease, caught it in mid-air and preformed the most excruciating disappearing act with my scythe. The thing screamed in pain as I tore it in half, spraying coagulated blood all over me. A giant spider tried to sting me from behind and I leapt forward turned around in midair and unloaded a shell from my spaz-12 into its abdomen. The Spider dropped and I was forced to go through the gaping hole I had made.
‘Fuck!’ I yelled in disgust, but all the while smiling the deranged smirk of a madman. One, two, three regular zombies I fell while sprinting to my next victim, a Tyrant. It was beautiful; the tyrant fought like a caged animal. Its defense was superb; almost superb that is. It left its chest open, so I shoved my bladed left arm through it. The Tyrant…..smiled? ‘Zeroth,’ I yelled,’ help ma….. Fuck!’ I barely dodged the Tyrants attack. Zeroth flew over and, with a move that the mighty Thor would envy, struck my left arm with his ax. The Tyrant exploded into pieces. ‘Nice, comrade, excellent maneuver.’ I complimented while sprinting and dispatching several smaller zombies. ‘Fuck, I hate these things’ spat Zeroth, splitting a Licker in half. From deep in the room, we heard it; a scream that could only be a death cry. I looked back and saw Michael’s leg being separated from his body. He fell to the floor with a painful thump.
I ran, ran as fast as my two legs could carry me. ‘Comrade!’ I screamed, in anger and in that same anger killing every random creature that crossed my path. Mike fought valiantly even though his body must have been ravaged by massive amounts of pain. Round after round, shells flew out of his ‘Broken Butterfly’, that is, until a Tyrant ripped his arm completely off. I fired my ‘Typewriter’ and cleared the surrounding area. I looked down at Mike, who had passed out from the blood loss. ‘Sorry, Comrade.’ I cried waking up Mike as my left arm murdered what was left; I decapitated him. I picked up his ‘broken butterfly’ and took what shells he had left and added it to my inventory. I flung the ‘Typewriter’ over my shoulder, took out my berretta from its holster on my side. With the butterfly in my right and the berretta in my left I ran.

Gauntlet: New Legends
Ziefer was becoming animalistic; his fighting became more and more erratic as the number of beasts slowly reduced. A Licker shot its evil tongue at me, which I dodged with ease, caught it in mid-air and preformed the most excruciating disappearing act with my scythe. The thing screamed in pain as I tore it in half, spraying coagulated blood all over me. A giant spider tried to sting me from behind and I leapt forward turned around in midair and unloaded a shell from my spaz-12 into its abdomen. The Spider dropped and I was forced to go through the gaping hole I had made.
‘Fuck!’ I yelled in disgust, but all the while smiling the deranged smirk of a madman. One, two, three regular zombies I fell while sprinting to my next victim, a Tyrant. It was beautiful; the tyrant fought like a caged animal. Its defense was superb; almost superb that is. It left its chest open, so I shoved my bladed left arm through it. The Tyrant…..smiled? ‘Zeroth,’ I yelled,’ help ma….. Fuck!’ I barely dodged the Tyrants attack. Zeroth flew over and, with a move that the mighty Thor would envy, struck my left arm with his ax. The Tyrant exploded into pieces. ‘Nice, comrade, excellent maneuver.’ I complimented while sprinting and dispatching several smaller zombies. ‘Fuck, I hate these things’ spat Zeroth, splitting a Licker in half. From deep in the room, we heard it; a scream that could only be a death cry. I looked back and saw Michael’s leg being separated from his body. He fell to the floor with a painful thump.
I ran, ran as fast as my two legs could carry me. ‘Comrade!’ I screamed, in anger and in that same anger killing every random creature that crossed my path. Mike fought valiantly even though his body must have been ravaged by massive amounts of pain. Round after round, shells flew out of his ‘Broken Butterfly’, that is, until a Tyrant ripped his arm completely off. I fired my ‘Typewriter’ and cleared the surrounding area. I looked down at Mike, who had passed out from the blood loss. ‘Sorry, Comrade.’ I cried waking up Mike as my left arm murdered what was left; I decapitated him. I picked up his ‘broken butterfly’ and took what shells he had left and added it to my inventory. I flung the ‘Typewriter’ over my shoulder, took out my berretta from its holster on my side. With the butterfly in my right and the berretta in my left I ran.