We are the Bad Guys
General Summary
Lark knew this was wrong. Every whitewashed strand of her soul was entwined in that unholy, corrupting Maelstrom, skewing her perspective and shuttering her eyes with pain-tinted lenses, but she still knew. The violence, the cold-blooded murder, the absolute genocide they had embarked on; it was wrong.
She wished she could take it all back. She would’ve never taken Queen Miere’s job. Never demanded an extra payout for each Family member she lost. Never enabled her Family to transform into the psychopathic killers she knew were lurking under their quirky, inbred exteriors. No job is worth the price of seeing your brothers and uncles slobbering like pitbulls, craving the kill.
And yet, there they were. The unfortunate amphibian man in front of them, restrained by Birdbrain and Grixy, was promised his life in exchange for the location of his brethren. He cooperated. But he also needed to die.
She snapped her fingers, and that long jagged blade tore through rubbery skin and aquatic-tinged flesh, breaching gil and airpipe, spilling blood of the kneeling innocent. Birdbrain took great pleasure from the act, violently cackling through his Stonehenge teeth. Diseased spittle mixed with blood.
So, so wrong.
---
“Gun it.”
At Lark’s command, the massive armored vehicle lurched forward as the gas pedal hit the floor, beginning a ramming charge towards the iron gates ahead. The smoke-tinged skyline had given the amphibian-peoples’ camp away to the bus full of crusading crazies. Time to teach the two guardsmen up top a lesson.
Lark strapped herself in at the front, and she motioned for Grekkor to brace for impact. The brute furrowed his eyebrow.
“Hell nah. I can pick off one of those two bastards right now!” He turned and unshouldered his rifle, aiming through the slotted windshield.
Jag was not pleased at this development, shouting, “Hey, hey wait a sec! What are you doing?”
“Just trust me, I know what I’m doing…”
Lark was not a fan. But there was nothing she could do. The bus was at full speed now, barrelling towards the gate with an ominous rumble. Desperate warning shots ricocheted off the thick plate armor.
Grekkor fired, tearing a guard’s lung out through his shoulder and shattering his collarbone in the process. Similarly, the front windshield exploded into millions of glass shards, the resulting wave of tiny daggers lashing out at the three of them in the front. But Jag took the worst of it. He screamed as they embedded into his chest, face, knuckles, everything.
The bus tilted. Their battering ram became a rollercoaster. It slammed through the gates, clipped a concrete pillar, and implanted into a solid brick wall. Everyone flew forward. Lunches were lost.
Unperturbed, Grekkor stormed out of the bus to meet the occupants of the camp, head-on. “Y’ALL READY TO REJOIN YOUR ANCESTORS IN THE MARIANA TRENCH?” Gunfire instantly followed.
Shaking away brain-fog from the collision, the Family quickly regained their composure and jumped out of the bus to join the manic mercenary. They poured into the dwellings and got to work. Lark could already hear the screaming.
It was all so wrong.
---
In the aftermath of the fight, the Family regrouped in the clearing. No losses. Grekkor was covered foot-to-nose in blood and gore. Key tended to Jag, administering some much needed medical aid.
As a handful of people were sorting through the trinkets scavenged from the dead amphibian-hybrids, Porridge walked over to the bus to retrieve something from the storage compartment. As he opened the compartment door, out tumbled a long-awaited revelation; the still-breathing body of Uncle Ozzy. Porridge gasped.
“EY’ ERYBODY! LOOKIT! IT’S UNCLE OZZY!”
More gasps. Lark spun around. The decrepit and still-charred man rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up. Then, the ground started shaking as Papa Bill marched out of the crowd.
“Wha’ in the HELL do you think yer’ doin’? We left ya’ back on the road! Yer’ outta the Family, you don’t GET to crawl your skinny ass back in with us!”
Ozzy just stared up with a shocked look on his face.
“Ohhh sure, fine, when it’s convenient for ya’, ya’ got no words! That’s how that work…” Papa Bill’s third eye squidged around in its socket, eyeing Jag and Key, who were still off on the side. His face slid into a frown, and he jerked his head towards Lark.
“Missy, we got some talkin’ ta’ do…”
So, so wrong…
She followed obediently.
“This is all YER’ FAULT, Lark. None of this would’ve even come close to happenin’ if it wadn’t for your BIG JOB for Queen Mee-ar, an’ all these tripped-out outsiders screwin’ things up! Those two,” He motioned to Jag and Key, “We can’t trust ‘em. I know you know it. They’s the ones who stuffed Uncle Ozzy back in that storage compartment. Got too much em-path-ee, if’n you ask me. They ain’t worth the risk.”
Lark looked up. “What risk? They’ve been nothing but helpful so far; all they did was save an old man who, in their eyes, was left to die by a stranger. They didn’t mean to do anything against the Family!”
“Ah yea’, they didn’t MEAN to. But that’s what makes it so bad, Lark. They ain’t us. They’re never gonna BE us. Family stays with FAMILY! And sometimes, that means cuttin’ out the ones that ain’t Family…”
“The hell are you suggesting?”
Papa Bill shrugged. “Well I s’pose once that there bus is up and runnin’ again, we could ‘ah, make a new arrangement? I’m sure Chaucer could figure out how to drive that thing… And Kip is gettin’ pretty good on her bicycle, I’m sure she’d handle the motorbike jus’ fine.”
“Absolutely not. There is no way we’re ditching them.”
He paused, eyes narrowing. “So what, you’re sayin’ you’d just shrug off your Family like that?”
“We’re sticking together. One group. Getting a job done.” She glanced up with fire in her eyes. “Once that’s through, we can split and be finished with them.”
“Yer’ goin’ soft, Lark. This is ‘bout Family, remember? Family-”
“Family can go to hell for all I care!” Lark didn’t even wait for a response before turning on her heels and stomping off. But she got one anyway.
“Yea’ well if that’s how you wanna play it! See how far these new ‘friends’ of yours are gonna take ya’! I promise you, they will stab you in yer weak-ass back and leave you on the side of the road!” He spat at her. “An’ you’ll deserve it too, jus’ like Ozzy!”
So, so wrong.
Character(s) interacted with
Report Date
28 Mar 2019
Primary Location
What’s working well: I really enjoyed the opening paragraphs and thought that the hook did its job. I was became engaged and was able to follow the story all the way through without rereading any particular paragraphs. Furthermore, I thought the imagery and descriptions of what was going on was well done. For example, the sentence of “She snapped her fingers, and that long jagged blade tore through rubbery skin and aquatic-tinged flesh, breaching gil and airpipe, spilling blood of the kneeling innocent.” was really well done and powerful. It gave good insight into the situation without telling the reader exactly what was going on. It also carried a powerful imagery effect that kept me engaged throughout the piece. Finally, the use of switching timelines was well done and had a positive effect on the story. It can be challenging to switch between timelines, but you did a great job keeping it simple and easy to follow. What could be working better: The story read a bit too much like an RPG session to me. It felt like characters were thrown into the story just to show that they were there and not to really serve any significance. Furthermore, I think the dialogue near the end of the story dragged on a bit too long. Since there was not any clarification as to who was saying what, it also became pretty easy to get lost in the back and forth conversation. Finally, the story felt like it should have been told from a first-person perspective rather than a very close third-person perspective. That might just be a personal preference, but it just felt like it would have flowed better from the first-person.