The Tale of the Ambuscade!

Thought I’d whip up a little bed-time story for you. Enjoy!

Imagine… you are nestled under a shallow ledge outside one of the buildings on campus. Large, overgrown flowers, weeds and vines hang over the edges, making your hideout dark and cavelike, and another building towers nearby, making your territory a very narrow alleyway. This is your lair, your… feeding grounds. You can only see up to peoples knees when they walk past you, but you have a clear view of a small plaza that adjoins directly with your alleyway.

A wiry smile curls around your face as your hear the bell, tolling the end of class. People will be heading to their next lesson soon. You’ve been waiting for half an hour for this, and you’re so ready for fresh meat. Your ears twitch as a door nearby opens. Your legs tense, ready to spring… but it’s only a girl, no armband in sight. She’s with several others, all non-players, and they chat away with silly girl banter as they walk past you. You roll your eyes as you hear one of them ask how many countries will be on their next geography test, and another answers “Just one, Europe”.

The girls prance away in their ignorant delight, and just as your resettle yourself into your den, a flood of people starts washing past you. It’s like a river, thousands of students file through, two at a time, through the narrow passage. It would be perfect, if only you could see their shoulders. You curse the low-hanging ledge above your head and try to look out into the plaza, but you can hardly see anything past the million streaming legs. You force yourself to sit and wait for the flood to subside. By the time the millipede of people has gone, and you can once again see into the plaza, no one seems interested in your alleyway anymore. You sulk, and send a text to your friend hiding in an identical spot on the other side of the building. She’s had the same luck. You begin to get up, frustrated and bored of this spot that offers too little visibility.

And then you hear it… in the quieting stillness that always follows the rush between classes… footsteps. They sound frantic, out of place amidst the calm. You curiously edge nearer the border of your shadowy enclosure, and your eyes light up at what you see. It’s a boy, probably a freshman. He looks lost and scared, his eyes quickly darting between the tall buildings, trying to make out their names. You would think he was just trying to make it to class on time, simple as that, if it weren’t for one thing… a Maverick. The boy clutches a small, yellow and black blaster, a revolver notoriously known for jamming. And he has an armband too. You grin and think about rushing him… “Should I? it would be so easy” you think to yourself.

And then your heart plummets. Out of nowhere a tall muscly brute of a human strides up to the boy. He carries a Hail-Fire, the pinnacle of human weaponry. The blue blaster boasts 8 clips out of it’s belly, all drum clips of some kind. You know not to approach this blaster, you’d meet a wall of foam aimed directly at your head the second it poked out from behind the vines. You scowl at the brute from behind the safety of your shadows and strain to listen to what the two say. You can’t make it out, but then something else unexpected happens. Rather than accompany his savior, the small boy looks toward an alleyway and smiles with relief. The brute playfully pats him on the head and waves goodbye, then stalks away. The boy starts walking… towards YOUR alleyway!

You practically dance as he draws nearer, trying hard to hold your breath and not make a sound. Your muscles itch with excitement and you get ready to pounce. The boy seems to have spotted a door and is heading towards it, his guard totally down. He smiles and lets his maverick swing freely. “This… is… perfect!” you think to yourself. Five feet… four feet… three feet…

Your phone dings…

“AAAAAGGH!!!” The boy screams and fires a round at the ground, instinctively pulling the trigger. You barely have time to hear him cock the pistol before you make your move!

It’s not ideal, but it will have to do! You yell as you lunge at your victim! You feel the wind brush your arm as another dart whistles past it. You wrap your arms around the boys knees and practically drag him into your cave! “AAAAGH!! AAGHH!!!” The boy yells and whips his arms around wildly, firing darts in every direction but your own. You surround the boy in an infecting bear hug and suppress his movements until he calms down.

Darts rain down on your back, dozens of them. You hear a “clu-clink” of a reload and the onslaught continues. You also hear the yell of the brute that had run back at the sound of your tag. You roll off the boy, laughing. You lie on the ground next to him and grin as a dart thumps against your safety glasses. You bask in your now-stunned victory, and let the brute waste as many darts as he likes. You’ve done your work. You smile at the boy and, as you stand, reach out a hand to help him up. He clasps it, shaking, and looks up at you. You pat him on the shoulder and say “Welcome to the hoard brother!” ;D


7 thoughts on “The Tale of the Ambuscade!

  1. WOW. This was Amazing , was this based on real life – with the HailFire – or just imaginative – either way it was really good and I enjoyed it a lot. If you ever write a novel , put me on the list of buyers

  2. Love the story, but a note on the Hailfire.
    It can’t hold 8 drums at the same time. It can only hold 2 25s at one time, and probably only 2 with the 35s. Maybe 3 with the 18 drums.
    (usage with 35s and 18 drums yet to be confirmed)
    Max capacity is 144 with 18 clips, because of the tight spacing between the clip holders.
    But one can dream right? Maybe if someone can tinker with the clip rack for the Hailfire and increase the clip spacing, we could use more and more drums, and then unleash 280 darts of semi-auto flywheeled goodness. 😀

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s