Revenge (my fanfic)

[xixixi]

plz can someone put this in the fanfiction section. this is the prologue, more to come.

Spyder’s head was pounding. He loved the thrill of battle, the adrenaline rush caused by the surrounding and imminent danger. He stood again, tongue between his teeth, as he took aim. A second later he saw the telltale spray of blood that announced another victim on his long tally. The battle was going well – his warband had caught up with Gellar’s men after a long chase that had culminated in a gunfight in this godforsaken sector of town, the industrial area of Eden City. Most of the surrounding warehouses and factories had been empty for years, left to rot by those who so lovingly built and operated them at the height of the Industrial Era. But then the revolution came, and much of the country descended into anarchy. The owners of the big industrial companies simply packed up and left, to seek their fortunes elsewhere.

The fight was starting to wind down; the enemy was retreating in disarray, only to be cut to pieces by the two machine gunners who had worked their way into forward positions. The looks of abject terror were clear on their faces and Spyder smiled grimly.

"We got most of them," said Spyder’s lieutenant, after the final bursts of gunfire had died away. "Gellar got away, along with a handful of his personal guard."

"Well done, Goldy," he told the man, who was so called because of the numerous gold teeth that had replaced those which had been pulled out by Gellar’s men when he had been captured and tortured for information. "Tell the guys to pack up for the night. We resume the chase in the morning. For now, they need a kip. Tomorrow’s gonna be tough."

Gellar had always been Spyder’s hated enemy. He was a back-streets crimelord who dealt in blood – his bounty hunters had disposed of many hundreds of mostly innocent people. Spyder’s parents had been murdered by Gellar’s men when Spyder was only 14. After that, he had vowed to avenge his parent’s death, whatever the cost, in money or blood. Now, 15 years on, he, his younger sister Zoe and their dedicated band of followers roamed the lands of Astra in search of Gellar. They had found him many times, but somehow he always managed to slip away while his men held off Spyder’s. But Spyder would do it. Before he left this earth, he would kill Gellar.

"You did well today," he said to Zoe as they put up camp for the night in an office in one of the warehouses. "I was watching. You’re a good hunter."

"Not good enough," she said with a downcast look, "he got away again; we failed."

"Yes, but you took down several of his men. You’re good with guns, which is a good trait in an aspiring warrior."

She grinned at him. Zoe had been begging Spyder to let her join his ranks for years and a few weeks ago, he had finally given in and let her join them in the crusade. She had turned out to be a brilliant fighter as well as stunningly beautiful.

Spyder opened his trunk, pulled out a grimy glass bottle and took a long draught from it. He had always had a taste for whiskey, ever since he was about 10. It also made the protein pills taste a little less awful. Due to the nature of their crusade, they often couldnt stop to get proper food, so a lot of the time they had to take these pills instead of eating. Spyder's young face was heavily scarred from the many wounds he had suffered in his fights with Gellar’s men, and his long, unwashed black hair was tied back in a pony-tail. Spyder’s dark eyes burned with a kind of animal rage, and, most strikingly of all, there was a large tattoo of a spiders web complete with black widow down the right side of his face, which is why those who knew him called him so. It was often said that he was a natural leader – deadly with any form of weapon and possessed of an unnatural ability to command the unswerving loyalty of any of his warband. He was a master tactician and it was this which made his men trust him so much – in 10 years of fighting Gellar’s troops, his band had only suffered 7 casualties.
'Come on guys, lets turn in. Need your energy for tomorrow.'
As the night wore on, his men fell asleep, tired from the day’s exertions. Spyder, however, sat in the darkness, brooding on memories form the past, and steeling himself for what was still to come.

[Hobo_Bobo]

very nice...very, very nice...

i'm jealous lol

umm...suggestions: its hard to read (cuz of the huge paragraphs)...i'll post an editted version for u that fixes the very few spelling errors i see and that makes it more reader friendly...)

NICE :lol:

[Hobo_Bobo]

Spyder’s head was pounding. He loved the thrill of battle, the adrenaline rush caused by the surrounding and imminent danger. He stood again, tongue between his teeth, as he took aim. A second later he saw the telltale spray of blood that announced another victim on his long tally. The battle was going well – his warband had caught up with Gellar’s men after a long chase that had culminated in a gunfight in this godforsaken sector of town, the industrial area of Eden City. Most of the surrounding warehouses and factories had been empty for years, left to rot by those who so lovingly built and operated them at the height of the Industrial Era. But then the revolution came, and much of the country descended into anarchy. The owners of the big industrial companies simply packed up and left, to seek their fortunes elsewhere.

The fight was starting to wind down; the enemy was retreating in disarray, only to be cut to pieces by the two machine gunners who had worked their way into forward positions. The looks of abject terror were clear on their faces and Spyder smiled grimly.

"We got most of them," said Spyder’s lieutenant, after the final bursts of gunfire had died away. "Gellar got away, along with a handful of his personal guard."

"Well done, Goldy," he told the man, who was so called because of the numerous gold teeth that had replaced those which had been pulled out by Gellar’s men when he had been captured and tortured for information. "Tell the guys to pack up for the night. We resume the chase in the morning. For now, they need a kip. Tomorrow’s gonna be tough."

Gellar had always been Spyder’s hated enemy. He was a back-streets crimelord who dealt in blood – his bounty hunters had disposed of many hundreds of mostly innocent people. Spyder’s parents had been murdered by Gellar’s men when Spyder was only 14. After that, he had vowed to avenge his parent’s death, whatever the cost, in money or blood. Now, 15 years on, he, his younger sister Zoe and their dedicated band of followers roamed the lands of Astra in search of Gellar. They had found him many times, but somehow he always managed to slip away while his men held off Spyder’s. But Spyder would do it. Before he left this earth, he would kill Gellar.

"You did well today," he said to Zoe as they put up camp for the night in an office in one of the warehouses. "I was watching. You’re a good hunter."

"Not good enough," she said with a downcast look, "he got away again; we failed."

"Yes, but you took down several of his men. You’re good with guns, which is a good trait in an aspiring warrior."

She grinned at him. Zoe had been begging Spyder to let her join his ranks for years and a few weeks ago, he had finally given in and let her join them in the crusade. She had turned out to be a brilliant fighter as well as stunningly beautiful.

Spyder opened his trunk, pulled out a grimy glass bottle and took a long draught from it. He had always had a taste for whiskey, ever since he was about 10. It also made the ready-made protein pills that he and his men often had to take instead of meals taste a little less awful. His young face was heavily scarred from the many wounds he had suffered in his fights with Gellar’s men, and his long, unwashed black hair was tied back in a pony-tail. Spyder’s dark eyes burned with a kind of animal rage, and, most strikingly of all, there was a large tattoo of a spiders web complete with black widow down the right side of his face, which is why those who knew him called him so. It was often said that he was a natural leader – deadly with any form of weapon and possessed of an unnatural ability to command the unswerving loyalty of any of his warband. He was a master tactician and it was this which made his men trust him so much – in 10 years of fighting Gellar’s troops, his band had only suffered 7 casualties.

As the night wore on, his men fell asleep, tired from the day’s exertions. Spyder, however, sat in the darkness, brooding on memories form the past, and steeling himself for what was still to come.

that's what i could edit...very minor details...
this part confused me though :

It also made the ready-made protein pills that he and his men often had to take instead of meals taste a little less awful.

perhaps u could reword it so it makes sense?

overall great job...and its nice to have some competition finally :lol: (im jokin yall...you're all good competion..)

[xixixi]

thanx for the edit
yeh i have a bad habit of doin excessively long sentences which people struggle to make sense of after a while, much like this one.
how about

It also made the protein pills taste a little less awful. Due to the nature of their crusade, they often couldnt stop to get proper food, so a lot of the time they had to take these pills instead of eating.

thats a bit easier on the eye/brain

[xixixi]

so the new full version is:

Spyder’s head was pounding. He loved the thrill of battle, the adrenaline rush caused by the surrounding and imminent danger. He stood again, tongue between his teeth, as he took aim. A second later he saw the telltale spray of blood that announced another victim on his long tally. The battle was going well – his warband had caught up with Gellar’s men after a long chase that had culminated in a gunfight in this godforsaken sector of town, the industrial area of Eden City. Most of the surrounding warehouses and factories had been empty for years, left to rot by those who so lovingly built and operated them at the height of the Industrial Era. But then the revolution came, and much of the country descended into anarchy. The owners of the big industrial companies simply packed up and left, to seek their fortunes elsewhere.

The fight was starting to wind down; the enemy was retreating in disarray, only to be cut to pieces by the two machine gunners who had worked their way into forward positions. The looks of abject terror were clear on their faces and Spyder smiled grimly.

"We got most of them," said Spyder’s lieutenant, after the final bursts of gunfire had died away. "Gellar got away, along with a handful of his personal guard."

"Well done, Goldy," he told the man, who was so called because of the numerous gold teeth that had replaced those which had been pulled out by Gellar’s men when he had been captured and tortured for information. "Tell the guys to pack up for the night. We resume the chase in the morning. For now, they need a kip. Tomorrow’s gonna be tough."

Gellar had always been Spyder’s hated enemy. He was a back-streets crimelord who dealt in blood – his bounty hunters had disposed of many hundreds of mostly innocent people. Spyder’s parents had been murdered by Gellar’s men when Spyder was only 14. After that, he had vowed to avenge his parent’s death, whatever the cost, in money or blood. Now, 15 years on, he, his younger sister Zoe and their dedicated band of followers roamed the lands of Astra in search of Gellar. They had found him many times, but somehow he always managed to slip away while his men held off Spyder’s. But Spyder would do it. Before he left this earth, he would kill Gellar.

"You did well today," he said to Zoe as they put up camp for the night in an office in one of the warehouses. "I was watching. You’re a good hunter."

"Not good enough," she said with a downcast look, "he got away again; we failed."

"Yes, but you took down several of his men. You’re good with guns, which is a good trait in an aspiring warrior."

She grinned at him. Zoe had been begging Spyder to let her join his ranks for years and a few weeks ago, he had finally given in and let her join them in the crusade. She had turned out to be a brilliant fighter as well as stunningly beautiful.

Spyder opened his trunk, pulled out a grimy glass bottle and took a long draught from it. He had always had a taste for whiskey, ever since he was about 10. It also made the protein pills taste a little less awful. Due to the nature of their crusade, they often couldnt stop to get proper food, so a lot of the time they had to take these pills instead of eating. Spyder's young face was heavily scarred from the many wounds he had suffered in his fights with Gellar’s men, and his long, unwashed black hair was tied back in a pony-tail. Spyder’s dark eyes burned with a kind of animal rage, and, most strikingly of all, there was a large tattoo of a spiders web complete with black widow down the right side of his face, which is why those who knew him called him so. It was often said that he was a natural leader – deadly with any form of weapon and possessed of an unnatural ability to command the unswerving loyalty of any of his warband. He was a master tactician and it was this which made his men trust him so much – in 10 years of fighting Gellar’s troops, his band had only suffered 7 casualties.
'Come on guys, lets turn in. Need your energy for tomorrow.'
As the night wore on, his men fell asleep, tired from the day’s exertions. Spyder, however, sat in the darkness, brooding on memories form the past, and steeling himself for what was still to come.

[xixixi]

Iv just written some more. this is not the whole of chapter 1, just part of it so dont stick it in the fanfic section yet plz narcism/citizen

Spyder’s feet were aching like hell. Even with his tough boots, his feet still protested after three days solid work. They had covered nearly a hundred miles in those three days, and his guys were starting to grumble. Spyder used to have a large army truck which they used to get around, but that had taken a rocket a few weeks back and they had left it, a smouldering wreck. It was a shame really – the vehicle had served them well for six years, and Spyder doubted whether he’d ever be able to find anything as good for their purposes again. It was hard for him to get a car – honourable as his purposes were, the warband had caused thousands and thousands of dollars of collateral damage, and if the law enforcement squad caught up with him, he would probably be thrown in jail. So they were walking, heading for the city of Riazza, which was where it was said that Gellar organised his operations, hoping for some clue as to where he might be.
The evening was dark and foggy. They had stopped for a drink and a short break from walking. The dying sun cast blood-coloured rays over the mountains in the distance. Spyder had just sat down for a swig when he heard it. dim and distant, but unmistakeably, the rumble of an engine, which died away as he listened. He stood up to try and get a better view of his surroundings, trying to spot the source of the noise, but the surrounding fog obscured his vision. He thought he could see the hazy outline of a crouched figure a hundred yards away or so. He heard a soft ‘click’ and suddenly he came back to his senses. A car engine, a crouched figure and that click noise could only mean one thing.
A fraction of a second before he heard the thup of a silenced sniper rifle, he threw himself sideways. He felt the heat from the speeding bullet as it passed centimetres from his neck. Reacting fast, he drew his revolvers, squared, aimed, and fired. There was a muffled cry as the high calibre bullets hit the running figure in the back as he tried to reach his vehicle. Spyder hurried to investigate.
The man was still alive, but his time was short. His breathing was ragged and shallow and he winced in pain as Spyder put his boot on the man’s chest. He didn’t need to ask who sent him. The last thing the assassin ever saw was Spyder’s scarred face twisting into a grim smile as he pressed the gun to the man’s temple and squeezed the trigger.
He turned back to the makeshift camp as his men were hurrying over.
‘C’mon, we gotta keep going. Gellar knows we’re here. That was one of his lackeys.’
His men groaned, but Spyder grinned and told them ‘He was kind enough to leave us his car. It’ll be a squeeze, but it’ll make the rest of the journey much more bearable.’
So, with Goldy driving, the vehicle sped off across the dusty wasteland towards the small grey patch on the horizon that was Riazza City.

comments/improvement suggestions plz :-)

[Hobo_Bobo]

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvEditted version vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Spyder’s feet were aching like hell. Even with his tough boots, his feet still protested after three days solid work. They had covered nearly a hundred miles in those three days, and his guys were starting to grumble. Spyder used to have a large army truck which they used to get around, but that had taken a rocket a few weeks back and they had left it, a smoldering wreck. It was a shame really – the vehicle had served them well for six years, and Spyder doubted whether he’d ever be able to find anything as good for their purposes again. It was hard for him to get a car – honorable as his purposes were, the warband had caused thousands and thousands of dollars of collateral damage, and if the law enforcement squad caught up with him, he would probably be thrown in jail. So they were walking, heading for the city of Riazza, which was where it was said that Gellar organized his operations, hoping for some clue as to where he might be.

* ** The evening was dark and foggy. They had stopped for a drink and a short break from walking. The dying sun cast blood-coloured rays over the mountains in the distance. Spyder had just sat down for a swig when he heard it. Dim and distant, but unmistakably, the rumble of an engine, which died away as he listened. He stood up to try and get a better view of his surroundings, trying to spot the source of the noise, but the surrounding fog obscured his vision. He thought he could see the hazy outline of a crouched figure a hundred yards away or so. He heard a soft ‘click’ and suddenly he came back to his senses. A car engine, a crouched figure and that click noise could only mean one thing.
A fraction of a second before he heard the thup of a silenced sniper rifle, he threw himself sideways. He felt the heat from the speeding bullet as it passed centimeters from his neck. Reacting fast, he drew his revolvers, squared, aimed, and fired. There was a muffled cry as the high caliber bullets hit the running figure in the back as he tried to reach his vehicle. Spyder hurried to investigate.

* ** The man was still alive, but his time was short. His breathing was ragged and shallow and he winced in pain as Spyder put his boot on the man’s chest. He didn’t need to ask who sent him. The last thing the assassin ever saw was Spyder’s scarred face twisting into a grim smile as he pressed the gun to the man’s temple and squeezed the trigger.
He turned back to the makeshift camp as his men were hurrying over.

* ** "C’mon, we gotta keep going. Gellar knows we’re here. That was one of his lackeys."
His men groaned, but Spyder grinned and said, "He was kind enough to leave us his car. It’ll be a squeeze, but it’ll make the rest of the journey much more bearable."

* ** So, with Goldy driving, the vehicle sped off across the dusty wasteland towards the small grey patch on the horizon that was Riazza City.

Very very nice...i've gotta say it's even better than last version...
Ur good...almost too good <_<

9.8888888889/10

(my made-up city made it into another story! woohoo lolz)

Ebert & Roeper give it four thumbs up!

[xixixi]

i thought riazza city sounded cool, plus i was boned for any other names (thats always my weakness when storywriting, i cant think of names).
thanx for the edit, ur really helpful!
more will come when i can think of a good plot.
any ideas for what could happen next?

[Hobo_Bobo]

lol thx xixixi

yeah hmm...more plot stuff...dunno i'll tell u if i ever get an idea though B)

[Citizen]

Good work! We posted up the prologue, let us know when there's an update.

[xixixi]

hey hobo, hows this for a connecting piece:

The bar was smoky and cramped. Spyder hated these sorts of places – stiflingly hot and full of detestable, sick-minded businessmen who paid not insubstantial sums of money to watch scantily-clad young girls dance around on stage. He checked his watch again – 8:28. The man should be here any minute.
This was the Paladium lounge in Riazza City, where Spyder had arranged to meet him. A few months ago there had been a fire here, but the place had been expertly restored and now gleamed with newness. Well, gleamed as much as it is possible for a back-streets bar in the industrial capital of Astra to gleam.
The door opened and closed with a snap, and Spyder felt a slight draft of cold air from outside on his face. He saw a man wearing a high-collared trenchcoat come down the steps to the bar and take off his hat. The man looked around, and, spotting Spyder sitting alone, made a beeline for him. The man sat down, his face in shadow, and lit up a cigarette, saying nothing.
Spyder was unsure how to react to this man. All he knew was that this man apparently knew something about Gellar’s whereabouts and might just be able to lead Spyder to him.
‘You’re Jack?’ he enquired of the stranger. The man nodded offhandedly.
‘Drink?’
‘Red rum.’
‘Spyder beckoned a waitress over and ordered their drinks. Both of them drank in silence for about a minute, Spyder studying the man closely before speaking.
‘I hear you have some information for me regarding the whereabouts of the crimelord Gellar’
Jack leaned forward so that his face was in the light. He had short brown hair, startlingly blue eyes and some short stubble on his chin. When he spoke, his voice was low and husky.
‘Yeah, I know your man. I’ve been on his trail for a while now. I’ve been promised a lot for him, dead or alive. You goin’ after him?
‘Yeah. But I don’t want him alive, I want him dead and buried.’
‘Alright. I’ll go with you. We split the cash 50-50, ok?’
‘I’m not interested in money, Jack, merely blood.’
‘Ok, all the more for me then.’
He grinned. Spyder retured the smile slightly reluctantly.
‘You got a squad?’
‘Yeah, they’re hiding out this side of town.’
‘Ok. We head to Lyssia tomorrow at dawn.’
‘Lyssia? What would bring him there?’
‘Don’t worry about that. All I know is that’s where he is. I’ve got us transport, an old bus that I’ve had adapted. And I’ve got 5 dedicated guys with special weapons. We’re kitted out for any situation.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
Jack extinguished his cigarette and leaned back in his chair.
‘Alright. Meet me at Polka’s point, that hill 5 minutes west of here, at 6 tomorrow morning.’
‘Done.’
Spyder got up and headed for the door, glad to be out of the smoke and the heat. He was glad to have met Jack – he could see him being very useful in the Crusade, and smiled as he thought that this time would be the time. This time, Gellar would not escape.

my description of Jack is most likely very inaccurate, i just made something up, so please feel free to change it for the real description of what he looks like.
also, it would be great if you could edit it like you did the last ones :-)
thanx

[Hobo_Bobo]

wow that's great...

love it...i'll fix the few problems with it though and post my editted version then u can edit it further...then i can edit that...etc...till we're both happy with the results..