It was the sickest weapon I could have ever imagined, as I was being teleported into the arena my mind felt numb from the agony of a most horrible death that was about to befall me.
I came in the hallways thinking I’d been knocked out on impact and was perplexed at my unwounded body. As i struggled to my feet, screams and the sounds of men’s bowels swiftly falling on the concrete floors inundated my ears.
What was I going to do with a fucking shoe?
Pow.. pow, ….. BAHP, BAHP, BAHP..BAHP,BAHP,BAHP,BAHP.. BAHP,BAHP.
I could hear tissue and bone fragments splattering against the walls and primitive grunts and chuckles echoing throughout the chambers mazed together like some sick puzzle for experimental rats.
Maybe my shoe came with a phone so I could call in an air strike. Who knows, got to hope for the best.
I peeked around the corner into a dark chamber that smelled like rotting corpses, fesces and fresh blood all at once. I cleared my throat loud enough to cause a faint echo within the room and rushed off to the side of the chamber, feeling along the wall and praying to the sick god that created this existance that my vision would would adjust quickly.
Soon I could see a pile of crates I could use for cover to inspect my weapon of choice….
The glow from the hallways barely illuminated the room enough for me to see the whites of my hands from behind the crate.
Crouching down with my cheekbone just past my knee, I inspected this shoe I had chosen to preserve my life and soul against men with fully automatic hand guns whose clips wrapped around there arms circled their torsos. Others had Melee weapons with built in shields that expanded from the hilt when in defensive mode. Shields strong enough to defend against armor piercing rounds, hollow tips, and explosive rounds filled with an acidic base that would eat through your skin as you burned alive.
I felt like a 1920s detective with a fucking revolver. Might as well have a damn musket rifle.
Please have mercy on me. If your real, let this misery pass onto another.
I peeked closer at my shoes, the left one was a standard issue converse we used to post up at the park and engage in illicit activities not worthy enough for sneakers or steel toes. The right one felt weird, and look funny, almost like metal from a midevil nights armor.
Huh! Didnt feel heavy running down the hallways. Must of been the adrenaline. I took a closer peek, putting my eye as close as my beer belly would let me.
It appeared that the metal was moving, like thousands of small metallic ants. I put my hand on the shoe, The ants crawled unto my hand and I instinctively jerked away.
They formed a bridge between the shoe and my hand. I lay my hand palm up on a piece of the crate and what looked like a glock formed before my eyes. It was beautiful, exquisitely engraved with the most luxurious patterns imaginable. It beckoned me to kill someone and I would oblige it.
I snuck back towards the entrance of the bloody chamber and put my back against the interior wall with one hand flat against it. The other cradled parts of my shoe in my hand hoping I wasnt delirious from comtemplating the consequences of my selection.
Heavy panting and quick footsteps seemed to be approaching the chamber. It grew closer. I stepped out with the gun drawn and blindly pulled the trigger just when the sounds appeared to be directly upon me.
Double tap. Then two more to the face as soon as my eyes regained their focus.
The first two shots blew a hole in his chest the size of a baseball the left side of his face looked like a cyborg with my shoe ants swarming around the impact zone and a small colony inserting itself into his nose.
As he stood there motionless I walked around him inspecting my handy work. No exit wound.
I went to take another look at his face. Blood oozed out his mouth and just before I turned to leave, I saw his heart tumble out the chest cavity and onto the floor.
Running down the hallway I clutched my glock tightly and glanced back at the poor chump standing outside the chamber door. The ants made their way toward me flowing out of his chest and face like a metallic stream. Just as I rounded the corner the ones near the front rebonded with my shoe. My sweet glorious shoe. I dropped the glock and stepped on it. The glock split into two rectangles and bonded with each side of my shoe.
I wanted to do a flying kick into someone just to see what would happen. No sooner had I thought it than I heard BLAHP, BLAHP, BLAHP accompanied with the hurried pitter patter of a man outmatched in our yearly right of passage. I did a flying kick just as he crossed the inter section and saw the swarm attach to his arm. Before he could let out his bloodcurdling scream, his persuer made eye contact and refocused his weapon. My leg felt like it was launched from a trampoline as I flew down the hallway. I ran into another chamber and waited.
You took my killlll!!!! Arrrgggh!
As the poor bastered entered the chamber, I roundhouse kicked him to the face and pushed him into the hallway with my other foot when the shoe hit the floor.
The went to town on him. I watched as my shoe quickly decomposed a two hundred pound man into bones and tiny pieces of residual flesh.
This is gonna be fun. I’m just starting to get acquainted with the shoe, were gonna be good friends, especially if I get to keep him by murdering the most people on this most special day
