Antlion Siege - HL2A truck accompanied by two motorcycles, all with manned machineguns at their rears, burned across the darkening wasteland. A storm of dust billowed behind their tires as they frantically sped onward to the base, an old castle-like ruin barely closer than the horizon.
"They're coming!" the sentries yelled from above the entrance "Get ready!"
"We're almost there! Hang on!" A passenger yelled to the back of the pickup, where two of his comrades attended to a third man, bleeding and clutching his stomach.
"Medics on standby!" the captain yelled, and four rebels with white armbands painted with red crosses moved to the front of the crowd gathered in the large courtyard. The convoy splashed through the sand of the entrance, wheels locked, and the truck skidded sideways. Immediately the waiting rebels leaped forward and helped carry the wounded man down from the bed and to the center of the courtyard, where a wooden wall-less shelter stood over ammunition crates, medical supplies, and some pi
Bioshock rescueA dark figure in black-grey clothes barreled around the corner, swinging a Buck like a bat, smashing the stock into the Little Sister's head and sending it crying to the side.
The Big Daddy let out a roar of fury and barreled towards him but he leapt over it as the Sister leapt onto the Daddy's back. The man lifted his shotgun as he steadily strode backwards and let loose eight shots pausing only to pump the next in. He dodged another charge by quickly stepping to his right and pulled out his revolver, quickly unloading twelve shots into the metal beast as it turned. He was almost too late the third time and his hat toppled off in the Daddy's breeze as he struggled to reload.
The Daddy turned and began to speed towards him as he placed shot after shot in its helmet. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. It began to speed up, holding its drill forward and spinning. 9. 10. 11. It was almost upon him, his legs tensed and he squeezed one last shot off before jumping. The Daddy crumpled with the final bl
The clearingA wolf lay in the middle of a destroyed clearing. It was clear that a short time ago this sanctuary had been beautiful, innocent, almost sacred. But now it was torn, shredded, and ultimately decimated. A great battle had raged here. The wolf itself was covered in marks of combat. Scratches, gouges, slashes and bites shone through the once beautiful fur, now hanging in tufts off its broken body. Surrounding the creature in the wreckage were splashes and pools of blood, clumps of fur and many feathers scattered by the wind. At one end of the clearing sat a bear, calmly licking its many wounds and glaring. It was watching an eagle opposite him, standing perched on the well-worn branch of a thick tree just on the other side of a creek, now pushing itself through debris. Both creatures wore wounds of the wolf's claws and fangs. The bear bled considerably more than the eagle, who'd entered during mid-fight, but to the large creature they were nothing of importance. All was perfectly still, e