Date: 2011-07-05 04:39 am (UTC)
boston_bruiser: (Default)
Oh, boy, is it ever. Voodoo doesn't even live here and he wants to see these fuckers burn.

How much of that desire is pure hatred and how much is pure adrenaline is hard to tell. Either way, it's irrelevant to anyone downrange.

One of the smarter shotgun troopers leaps out of cover and knocks Voodoo's weapon out of his hands, then brings the butt above his head for a melee attack. For a split second, there's an opening, and Voodoo seizes it, stepping aside and sweeping the trooper's legs out from under him. The effect is similar to slipping on a banana peel, only nobody's laughing - least of all the trooper, who's now staring down the barrel of Voodoo's pistol.

Voodoo doesn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

Another of the stragglers shoulders his weapon at Voodoo - he gets two in the chest and one in the head for his trouble.

Voodoo holsters his pistol and shoulders his submachine gun. The landing pad is close now - he can almost feel the tarmac under his boots. Too close to be making stupid mistakes.

This is it. This is really it.
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Gordon Freeman

December 2012

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