Creative Writing
Creative Writing
My breath steamed the air, my eyes wide open looking into the distance as drips of sweat rolled down my forehead. My ears twitched at every sudden noise; I just hoped nothing would jump out of the darkness. I kept thinking about where I was and how I got to this place. Every footstep echoed for miles as I stepped upon the Iron Gate, the noise rattling my brain. I came to a halt, my sweaty hand roaming over the freezing cold steal on my chest as I tightened my only protection from this city.
My stomach turned as I took a defensive crouch, ready to pounce at any given moment. With my torch sealed between the fingers of my left hand and a 60kg camouflaged bag on my back, I attempted to mentally stop and fight all my instincts which were telling me to run and retreat. The sound of gunfire made me want to turn around and face the noise coming from the other direction. As my aim and torch followed and rose up to the sound, it lit a dark alleyway invisible to the naked eye. The gunfire stopped as soon as it started so I took several deep breaths as I panned the small beam of light around the alleyway. There were two buildings on either side of me, 10-story apartment flats with all the windows black, some boarded with wooden panels and the rest smashed which was typical in this part of the city. The nearby lamppost flickered, lighting the street beside me every few seconds. The street was dead except for a few cars that littered the sidewalks, but even those seemed to look as if a bomb had hit them.
A small can with a bullet hole through the side caught my attention. I grabbed the strap of my steel M7 and increased my guard ready to expect the worst-case scenario. In the confusion and panic of discovering I was in danger, I heard a loud screech which sounded like someone scratching nails against metal. The sound was increasing dramatically as the seconds passed. A light locked on my eyes and I dive to the side into a prone position just as a
My breath steamed the air, my eyes wide open looking into the distance as drips of sweat rolled down my forehead. My ears twitched at every sudden noise; I just hoped nothing would jump out of the darkness. I kept thinking about where I was and how I got to this place. Every footstep echoed for miles as I stepped upon the Iron Gate, the noise rattling my brain. I came to a halt, my sweaty hand roaming over the freezing cold steal on my chest as I tightened my only protection from this city.
My stomach turned as I took a defensive crouch, ready to pounce at any given moment. With my torch sealed between the fingers of my left hand and a 60kg camouflaged bag on my back, I attempted to mentally stop and fight all my instincts which were telling me to run and retreat. The sound of gunfire made me want to turn around and face the noise coming from the other direction. As my aim and torch followed and rose up to the sound, it lit a dark alleyway invisible to the naked eye. The gunfire stopped as soon as it started so I took several deep breaths as I panned the small beam of light around the alleyway. There were two buildings on either side of me, 10-story apartment flats with all the windows black, some boarded with wooden panels and the rest smashed which was typical in this part of the city. The nearby lamppost flickered, lighting the street beside me every few seconds. The street was dead except for a few cars that littered the sidewalks, but even those seemed to look as if a bomb had hit them.
A small can with a bullet hole through the side caught my attention. I grabbed the strap of my steel M7 and increased my guard ready to expect the worst-case scenario. In the confusion and panic of discovering I was in danger, I heard a loud screech which sounded like someone scratching nails against metal. The sound was increasing dramatically as the seconds passed. A light locked on my eyes and I dive to the side into a prone position just as a