Posts Tagged ‘Duel’

Matador by Darksilvania

Matador by Darksilvania

Look at all these people, cheering and waving for little old me. What an amazing day. I can’t wait to tell my kids.
Ouch. That fucking hurt. What did you poke me for? Right. I’ll fucking show you. Now you’re in the shit big time. You’re not getting away with this.
Stop jumping around, you pussy. Quit waving that red thing. It’s annoying. Stay still and I’ll fucking have you.
Ouch, stop poking me!
So tired. So dizzy. Can’t see anything. Is that blood in my eyes? Knees buckling.
Are you kidding? A sword?!
This is bullshit!

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Hell bull by Agusia1986 on DeviantArt.com

The matador shielded himself with the red cape. Fancy footwork wasn’t going to win against this bull. Horns ablaze the bull huffed, grinding his front hooves against the dirt. It charged head down, and set fire to the fabric. The flame singed the matador’s skin. Sizzles and screams echoed against the arena walls as the smell of burning flesh filled the air. When the opponent was nothing but bones the bull raised the skeleton onto his horns to the applause of the audience and walked back to the gates he came from, the gates of Hell.

Supermarket Sunset by FramedByNature on DeviantArt.com

“Get in,” said Jeff, rocking the shopping cart.

Quentin gulped. “That’s steep.”

Downhill, Martin shouted, “Yo, chicken shit!” He removed his shirt, waggling it matador-style.

Quentin growled, “Douchebag.”

“C’mon pussy!” called Martin.

Huffing, Quentin climbed in the cart.

Jeff handed him two screwdrivers. “Your horns.” Then he kicked the cart.

Quentin lurched. The cart careered downhill.

Martin swept his cape.

The cart juddered. Screaming, Quentin clenched the screwdrivers.

The cart hit a pothole. Quentin flew.

Martin’s cackles stopped with an “Oof!”

Quentin rolled off Martin, who gurgled, a screwdriver piercing his heart.

Quentin whispered, “Don’t die.”

Obliviously, Jeff shouted, “Olé!”

 

 

Monk by PointLineArea on DeviantArt.com

“I am bigger,” laughed Takamasa.
“True, but answer,” Masasada slashed, nicking Takamasa’s forearm, “how does one bring down Fuji-san?”
Takamasa winced and squinted as he considered the question. He thrust his sword forward, but it was knocked aside by Masasada’s thinner blade.
Masasada struck and drew blood. Before Takamasa could react, Masasada opened up another slit on Takamasa’s arm.
Masasada smiled. “One chop at a time. You see?” He slashed again and opened Takamasa’s shoulder. Blood sprayed and Takamasa dropped to his knees.
“Patience is a virtue,” whispered Takamasa, respectfully.
Masasada thrust down and inward. “Patience is a weapon.”

Krampus by DamaraCarpenter on DeviantArt.com

Nick’s sled came in hot. He cranked the parking break, slid, and bounced off a snow-covered Caddy. His engine stalled. Nick tried the starter. It howled like a dying cat.

Down a dark alley, two headlights illuminated.

“Krampus!” said Nick, punching a dashboard panel. It dropped open, revealing a joystick and scanner.

A flaming demon sled squealed from the alley. The driver thrust his horned head out the window and screamed “Nicholas! It’s my night!”

A blip approached the scanner center. “You’re under the missile-toe, bitch,” said Nick, firing the button.

“Your one liners suck!” Krampus wailed, before vaporizing.

Girl with a gun by Sidxartxa on DeviantArt.com

She twirled the pearl handled revolver and wiped the sweat from her brow.

“Well, we’ll call it a day,” she said. She turned on her heel, but a moan from her mark stopped her.

He crawled towards her with blood blooming across his chest.

“I won’t lie down for you!” he gasped.

She flashed an acidic smile. “Isn’t that sweet?” The barrel spun. “Your sun has set, Cowboy.”

She blew him a kiss and pulled the trigger.

Blood spurted from his mouth and he slumped to the ground.

She blew smoke from the barrel and walked away with a smile.

Boss Battle by stevegoad on DeviantArt.com

A cold arena. Every breath loosed mushroom clouds of moisture.

Nuclear energy coursed through Max’s veins.

“I’ll grind you into the dirt so hard, herbalists will try to use you as medicine!” Arthur bellowed, limping, dodging lightning.

Max nodded, cracking his knuckles.

“Your mom’s vacuum will be your body bag when I’m finished!” Arthur jeered.

Max dodged lightning and limped forward. In a high-pitched voice, “I’ll tear you a new one so wide, the event horizon will destroy your entire lineage!”

Benjamin, shooting lightning from both hands, felled the competitors and blew on his fingers. “Couldn’t walk the walk.”

Ship Battle by 88grzes on DeviantArt.com

Shipwreck. Barbados. Rudder splintered o’er the shoals. Keel cracked n’ bleedin’ water.

Royal Navy’s colors close behind.

No matter.

Me cutlass be out, carvin’ the scuttling crew.

Nick, ye mutinying bastard. I’ll be in gaol so long as you’ll be in hell.

The screaming turns ye.

“Avast, Thom, you bilge-rat” says ye, drawing steel.

Grape-shots burst the deck around us. This confusion of sky and sea and bone.

Your blade is a butt-end, which ye drop o’erboard.

I jump smoking gaps between planks. Ye swing a belaying pin, which I lop your hand off for.

Next goes your head.

Pirate Duel by WouterBruneel on DeviantArt

There. Richard saw it, the key to victory. War erupted around him as his crew fought the mutineers, but his attention stayed fixed on his first mate.

“You’re too gray, too weak to be captain anymore, Blood.”

Richard smiled and concentrated on his footing. The ship pitched and yawed on the waves. Blood and body parts rolled on the deck. One false step and it was all over.

The first mate went into his pattern, two feints and a slash. Richard stepped into the slash and ran the mutineer through.

“Blood by name, blood by deed, Captain.”

“Aye,” Richard said.

Out to Sea by Sandora on DeviantArt.com

“Die, villain, die! Die by my trusty buccaneering blade! HA! HA! HA! Lost your head, huh? Ha! Ha! Ha! Now YOU, Blackbeard, scum of the Spanish Main. Swish! Swish! Ha! Ha! Lost your beard, huh? Now your toupee! Ha, ha. One swish. Blacky, dear Blacky, thy slow antique broadsword down stroke matches not my lightning Damascus steel beauty booty. Now, Blacky, prepare thy self for the devil’s realm. With a refrain I forget I– THRUST HOME! Damn. So-o-o … YOU, thee, thou art THE JOLLY DODGER! Off with thy mask, Jolly. Off with it! Zounds! Errol Flynn!”