The Taste Of Despair

Gary's eyes were seeing red.

His vision was clouded by a blurry, nauseating sight of danger and death.

He had killed his fair share of people, and this was by no means the first time he had encountered gore—or pain.

But, nothing he had ever experienced compared to this moment.

Seeing his own comrades—the one he was playing games with just moments earlier—now nothing more than lifeless chunks of meat, caused his stomach to churn and his throat to burn.

If not for the searing pain in his arm, and the certainty of death that weighed heavily on him, Gary was certain that he would have vomited once again.

"G-guahhh… ahhh… arghhh…" As tears and drool slipped down his face, mucus flowed from his nose and he shivered.

He looked like a pathetic sniveling rat that could only tremble in the face of pure danger.

"Ahh… I suppose I was being a bit impatient. For a moment there, I thought you were reaching for a weapon."