Survival - Jekt

Jekt slumped against the wall, blood smearing as his right hand dragged across the mirrored surface. His breathing came hard, his left hand pressed hard against his chest his thumb pressed into the bullet wound. His makeshift first aid wouldn't last long and his opponent was apparently still alive. Staggering to his knee's his vision blurred, his head rang. Tall and gaunt, covered in tattered clothes Jekt looked worse than the young man crumpled on the floor opposite him. 'Bloodbox' his head rang the single word echoed over and over. 'Not yet, I can't fall yet.' Jekt didn't bother standing rather he readied his pistol. The bullet had not fired and remained dud in the barrel. One handed, he fumbled with the weapon, a single barrel one fire weapon custom made for the Box. Blood had made the metal surfaces  slick and Jekt was barely maintaining consciousness.

Sheb spat blood. For an old man the figure before him was surprisingly powerful, and fast. Already Sheb could feel his eye closing over, he spat a tooth and began struggling to his feet. Panic took hold as he stumbled again catching a glimpse of the emancipated man struggling with with a bullet. Blood obscured his vision, shaking his head he tried to piece together what had happened. A shot, the single round that should have been victory. He turned to raise his hands for the crowd, then pain and spinning. How had the old man managed that, Sheb had seen the gun fire and knew the bullet was dud. It didn't matter, Sheb grimaced ad he stood. Clenching his teeth, he could taste the blood running from his head down his face.

Jekt, poured the blackish powder from the dud bullet into the chamber of the gun, blood gummed the mechanism preventing the gun from locking properly, 'it will do'. Watching the young man stand and focus Jekt forced himself to breath deep. Pain wracked him, a whistling noise escaped his chest through the hole he was desperately blocking with his left hand. 'Breath' Jekt blinked, his opponent began towards him. 'Breath' another step closer Jekt's vision cleared as he forced his mind to focus. 'Breath' the boy was only a step away, raising a gun to use as a makeshift weapon. Jekt released his hold on his chest whirling his gun against his opponents head.

Blood exploded outwards, Jekt collapsed his chest whistling with a sickly slap at each breath. Sheb screamed, it was a rasping crackle as his face disintegrated with the misfired weapon. Shard's of hot metal and bone sprayed across the mirrored wall. Now it was only a matter of time, would Sheb's brutal maiming end him before Jekt's lung collapsed completely or would this be the last time the Bloodbox claimed another of Jekt's victims.

The End

111 comments about this exercise Feed