Cutscene: Taken III (Preview Draft)

Cutscene: Taken III

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The thing in Sparky’s hand wasn’t even a chair leg anymore.

Half of one at best, it was a jagged and broken thing that would be better thrown away, not even useful as a scrap of wood.

As a chair leg, it was worthless.

As a weapon, it was… probably not much better.

In Sparky’s hand, in that single moment, it was a godsend.

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The moment passed.

Sparky heard it, felt it, more than he saw it.

The squelching noise as sharp, serrated, pointed wood met the weaker, gelatinous surface that was the eye.

The spray of fluid and lack of resistance as the eye gave way.

He pushed forward without realizing it, acting on instinct, his victim falling backward and him dropping to the dusty hallway floor along with him. The large skinhead flailed and shuddered on the ground as his body with a much deeper, more primal instinct than the one Sparky had gone with.

Maybe, he would have screamed.

Maybe, if he was still aware enough to.

Maybe, if Sparky hadn’t clamped a hand over the mouth of the spasming gangster as he forced his weapon as deep as it would go into his eye.

And then even deeper still.

It was several long seconds before the man stopped moving completely. Sparky sat on top of him, straddling the dead gangster’s body in a way he had never done before. His grip almost seemed plastered to the remaining bit of wood still free from the depths of the man’s skull, the teenager finding it hard to let go.

When he finally did, it wasn’t entirely by choice.

The disgusting stench that slammed his nostrils with almost a physical force was enough to shake Sparky back into awareness. The teenager jumped off the dead man’s body almost immediately, face pulled into a grimace as he began to gag.

Is that – shit.

It was.

For the second time in about twice as many minutes, Sparky found himself retching as the contents of his stomach — still tinted an unappealing shade of orange — left his body, the entire mess covering the twitching corpse in the hallway.

Fuck.

Sparky wiped his mouth again as his body continued to bristle with energy. His eyes struggled to move from the dead body in front of him, tears pricking his eyes as he struggled not to vomit a third time. I…

The body twitched again, moving just enough that the smell of shit suddenly spiked again and the vomit on its chest pooled toward the blood-splattered face and neck of the dead man.

The gory sight filled the teenager’s vision, the entire hallway blurring as the single corpse grew overwhelmingly large in his mind’s eye.

I did that.