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A man who works for a german weapons facility is told to find weapon blueprints from a factory in Russia. I did this at ten o'clock at night, so it might not be my best. part 1
Griffin Lance Pool
I enjoy playing waterpolo(not marco polo,idiots), writing, drawing, snowboarding, and designing games on the computer. I listen to metal music, such as In Flames, Seether, Staind, Soilwork, Cold, Static x, Sum41, Chevelle, Tool, and Ill nino.
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Memorize Pt. 2 (Short Stories) Second part of the story that continues the story of our good friend Legault. if you havent read the first one yet, please do before reading this one, otherwise you might be a bit bewildered. Once a... [1,356 words]
Griffin Lance Pool
A dark fog enveloped the building in the night. It was a small factory in Russia, made by a weapon organization known as N.I.B.W, or the National Industry of Biological Weapons. It was a dull gray color, covered with hundreds of different kinds of safety devices placed around it. It was in the middle of a wasteland, where no one would think of searching for a way to destroy or sabotage the companies products, or even be at all visited. A dark black boot hit the floor. Another did a moment later. Then the first one was lifted, and hit the floor again. These boots belonged to the body of a man named Legault. He was wearing a black trench coat halfway down to his dark blue jeans. He had a face that looked like it had died from fear itself because it was so pale. He had yellow-green eyes, and blood red lips. His hair was a whitish-gray color, a little darker than the pale color of his face. Under his left eye was a scar from an incident when he was fourteen. He was 23 now, and was going to work. Not working for the N.I.B.W, but rather for its European enemy, Opiom Industries. His job was to destroy this building, and retrieve weapon plans from it for the Germans.
He took a step towards the factory. His plan to penetrate the factory’s defenses was fool proof. It was time to act…
He worked at a quickened pace with his switchblade, moving so quickly that when he did stop, it looked as if he was teleporting from place to place in a swift motion, and within a few seconds, he was inside the building.
The factory was like a test maze, and he was the mouse hunting down the cheese. With a blue print of the buildings floor plan in the back of his head, he started towards the file room.
His father was the old thief of the German company, and had died when Legault was about 17 years of age because of a mission he was doing, when something went terribly wrong with the equipment he was using. His mother had died not to long after from loss of will to live, and then he was taken in by the company itself to become the new rogue. His childhood has been a train wreck of memories, as if it was a sheet of paper shredded to pieces, and he was trying to put it back together, only he was missing a piece. The middle piece that connected everything together.
Towards the end of the hall, Legault noticed a strange light from behind him. He slowly turned around to notice two guards heading his way, holding flashlights.
“Hey, what’s that?” One of the guards grunted.
Legault was gone. The confused guards looked left and right, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“(Yawn) Probably just a mouse…” The other guard said sleepily.
Suddenly, Legault dropped from the ceiling landing on one of the guards shoulders, knocking him to the ground. The other one swung a massive arm at him. He ducked the swing, and came up with his leg smashing into the guards face. The guards crippled body smacked into a wall, and fell to the ground. The two were down for the count. Legault could continue his work.
Legault’s objective was at the end of the hall, the last door on the left at the end of the hall. The wind whipped across his face as he sprinted swiftly and silently down the hall. Finally, he reached the end of the hall. He slowly turned the doorknob. Locked.
“Nothing a little force can’t do,” he thought. He took four steps back, then sprung at the door with all his might. The door fell to the ground, shattering glass as it hit the ground, which stabbed into Legault’s arm as he fell. Hoisting himself up with his good arm, he started to throw the files on the ground. In a quick thirty seconds he had found the one he was looking for. He then rummaged through his pocket and found a match, swiped it at some sandpaper until it caught a spark, chucked it through the air into the Wd-40 tanks in the room across from him, then ran the hell out of there. He was almost out the door when the chemical reaction erupted, throwing Legault twenty feet into the air. He fell on his side on the concrete, rolled about 15 times, then hit his stomach hard into a tree. Legault laid there, as still as a stone.
On a hill, not more than five miles away, two men were talking, when all of a sudden, in the distance came an explosion, flying bits and fragments of the rubble everywhere. One man said to the other, “Well, it looks like our friend has completed his mission.”
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"Was interesting Griffin, I liked it." -- Alvin.
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