I'll admit, the crunch was satisfying, once you get past the squeamish phase the crackling of bone becomes somewhat smoothing, but then again my old military therapist always told me I had psychopathic tendencies, I guess you got to be a bit crazy anyways to voluntarily join in a war. The man below me was almost crying in pain, his wrist that I was gripping was now twisted three hundred sixty degrees and the man was reduced now to his knees. His silver Sig Sauer fell from his hand but before it could noisily clatter to the ground and alert every guard in a hundred yard radius I caught it on the top of my sneaker. I kicked my foot up and threw the gun high into the air, simultaneously twisting and catching the guard's throat with the back of my foot, smashing his larynx with the hard heel of my shoe. As I righted myself I caught the gun, bringing my hand down with it so as not to create the oud noise of metal smashing against flesh and bone. I looked down at my handiwork, the man was a mess, his and hand was attached just by skin, his neck was black, instantly bruised by the force of my kick, he didn't suffer long though, the force of my kick sent his head speeding into the ground, smashing his skull in, splinters of bone shooting through his brain like bits of bullets. I stepped back as a pool of blood and bits of gray matter flooded toward my boots. I walked over to an iron door on the other side of the room. The door was a large thing, it's faded, gray blue paint chipped in places and rusted in others, it matched the room perfectly, the barren concrete, the table eaten away by wood rot, right down to the musty smell of dirt. I eased open the door and held my breath, luckily the hinges held up better than the door and I was met with a smooth noiseless opening. As I peeked through the crack I made between the door and it's frame I had to hold in a yell. FUCK! I thought, right in front of the door was another guard, he would be easy to take out, I was more worried about the two guards in front of him, one with a shotgun with its barrel cut short, the spread could clear a three foot radius easy, next to him was another guard, an Ingram Mac 10, a small machine pistol, small rounds, fast rate of fire, and an average sized clip. There was bound to be more guards, I estimated the room to be about 100 or so square feet and I only saw about ten percent of it. I knew the odds were astronomical but I was doing this for them... for her, one of man's great weaknesses, a pretty lady. I closed my eyes, laid out my plans, took a deep breath, and went for it. First I rammed into the door using all one hundred seventy pounds of weight and my six foot two frame against it. The man in front of it was crushed between the heavy iron of the door and the hard concrete of the wall. I grabbed the Sig Sauer I pulled off the now deceased guard and fired at the guard with the sawn off barrel. I was off balance but the bullet still hit him square in the chest, an explosion of pink burst from his chest and he was pushed backwards off his feet. As I adjusted my aim due to recoil and smoothly slid it to the guard with the machine pistol, who was so surprised he hadn't even started to bring his gun up, my arm was charged by a guard I hadn't seen and slammed into the wall, I immediately dropped my gun and the same guard kicked it away from me as he threw me to the ground. Him, the guard with the machine pistol, and another began savagely beating me. One slapped in the cheek with the butt of his gun, thankfully it was rubber padded so it didn't break anything but it began swelling almost immediately, the other two took to old fashioned fisticuffs, knocking the breath out of me causing me to vomit. As I felt myself start to give in to the head trauma and black out a large mass blocked out the glaring of the fluorescent light spinning above my head, I heard muffled words and felt myself be dragged off before I blacked out. Two days ago I thought this would be somewhat routine, punks, maybe some light drugs, anything but this. What the fuck did I stumble upon.
(Alright hey guys, this was more of an experiment but if any of you want me continue just say so, it was quite fun to right and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. I have been reading the Jack Reacher series, the novels, not the movie that's shitty in comparison, the characters are not the same and neither is the plot, it did make me want to do a gritty, film noire style thing like the first Jack Reacher novel, Killing Floor, it's the only one written in first person in the series. Please give me feedback and tell me if you want me to keep going, thanks!