Ground Zero
Obviously they thought they could just stroll in and take shelter here, bad mistake on their part
You calmly point the shotgun at the man caught in the trap and blast him before he even notices you. The little boy now really begins screaming, but the woman just becomes silent and falls into shock turning her head in your direction covered in the blood of her husband.
You don't feel sick like you did last time; you do feel an overwhelming sense of power though.
The woman grabs her son's hand and turns to run, but realizes two seconds later that she's only holding on to his hand and the rest of him is lying on the ground, one arm less, from your second blast.
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!" the woman screams.
"Because I can, and there's nobody around to stop me." You say and briskly walk over to the woman. After a pathetic struggle you knock her out and drag her into your new home.
After all, you're not sure when you'll get to see another woman again
A couple days after the incident with the family (and disposing of all three bodies) you begin keeping yourself in better shape. You start exercising regularly, and fixing up your home. You need to be prepared, in case more people ever show up. You MUST defend yourself and your home. You don't get many, but every now and then another poor soul stumbles across your death lair. You're merciless. Soon you begin to arrange the vehicles of your victims to form a semi "wall" around your home and place some grisly totems as "decoration".
A year passes
You don't get visitors anymore, though that's probably because of the unfriendly image you've projected with all the skulls you've stuck on the spikes outside. Part of you is glad that you aren't being disturbed anymore, but the other part misses the killing. You begin to wonder if you shouldn't start venturing out more, but you'd hate to leave your home.
One day you're awakened by the roar of motorcycles. You've got visitors again, you ready your weapons. As you head upstairs you hear that inevitable "SNAP!" sound followed by screaming. Yet another victim to your traps, though you hear the typical sounds of distress, you also hear some laughter, taunting even, which has got you more curious than anything.
You check through a little peephole you made and see a bunch of biker types, one is lying on the ground, his leg nearly severed by the hidden bear trap. While one is trying to free him, a couple of the others are just laughing and remarking about how it looks like it really hurts.
"AAAAAARGH! AGHHH!"
"Look are you assholes going to help or not?" one of them asks.
"Hey, I told you fuckers not to go traipsing into a place that has skulls stuck on stakes. Y'all should've known it wasn't exactly going to be a friendly place."
"We need fuckin' gas Jim, and this place has a lot of vehicles, and maybe some of them have gas. We had to go check!"
"Well yeah, but that didn't mean just walking around unaware of your surroundings shit that leg looks bad."
"GET IT OFF! AAAAHHHH!"
"That leg is bad. Even if you did get it off of him, he's probably going to lose it to infection. I wiped my own shit on it, not to mention it was developing a nice set of rust on it when I found it. I'd say his bike riding days are over." You say standing your doorway with your shotgun ready. The bikers look in your direction, one looks like he's going to pull his pistol, but the one called Jim stops him. He's obviously the leader.
"You might be right, stranger, but that still leaves you outnumbered one to three. You sure you wanna take those odds?" Jim says.
"I'll take 'em and I'll enjoy it. It's been a long time since I've killed a whole mess of people."
"Oh, so you're a REAL killer eh?"
"Better killer than you."
"Hah! I doubt that! See me an' the boys here have been raisin' hell where ever we can. Come across a few towns and let's just say we're not real welcome there anymore. It's a brand new world, and only the strong are gonna survive it."
"Yeah? Well it looks like one of your flock isn't so strong now."
"Yeah well you might be right about that stranger maybe someone should put him out of his misery. Can't very well ride with one leg, that'd be kind of silly."
The biker trying to help speaks up.
"Oh come on Jim man! Clyde here saved all of our asses about a month ago!"
"Yeah? Well what has he done for us lately? The stranger's right, we gotta put him down, it's the kind thing to do really. You gonna do it, Dan?"
"No I mean well "
"Pussy. Nevermind. Ramon you gonna do it?"
"Shit yeah! Here hold on, oh fuck." Ramon says pulling out his pistol and then dropping it on the ground. Jim just shakes his head.
"Ramon, its amazing you've even lasted this long with your clumsy ass. Fuck it, I'LL do it."
You calmly point the shotgun at the man caught in the trap and blast him before he even notices you. The little boy now really begins screaming, but the woman just becomes silent and falls into shock turning her head in your direction covered in the blood of her husband.
You don't feel sick like you did last time; you do feel an overwhelming sense of power though.
The woman grabs her son's hand and turns to run, but realizes two seconds later that she's only holding on to his hand and the rest of him is lying on the ground, one arm less, from your second blast.
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!" the woman screams.
"Because I can, and there's nobody around to stop me." You say and briskly walk over to the woman. After a pathetic struggle you knock her out and drag her into your new home.
After all, you're not sure when you'll get to see another woman again
A couple days after the incident with the family (and disposing of all three bodies) you begin keeping yourself in better shape. You start exercising regularly, and fixing up your home. You need to be prepared, in case more people ever show up. You MUST defend yourself and your home. You don't get many, but every now and then another poor soul stumbles across your death lair. You're merciless. Soon you begin to arrange the vehicles of your victims to form a semi "wall" around your home and place some grisly totems as "decoration".
A year passes
You don't get visitors anymore, though that's probably because of the unfriendly image you've projected with all the skulls you've stuck on the spikes outside. Part of you is glad that you aren't being disturbed anymore, but the other part misses the killing. You begin to wonder if you shouldn't start venturing out more, but you'd hate to leave your home.
One day you're awakened by the roar of motorcycles. You've got visitors again, you ready your weapons. As you head upstairs you hear that inevitable "SNAP!" sound followed by screaming. Yet another victim to your traps, though you hear the typical sounds of distress, you also hear some laughter, taunting even, which has got you more curious than anything.
You check through a little peephole you made and see a bunch of biker types, one is lying on the ground, his leg nearly severed by the hidden bear trap. While one is trying to free him, a couple of the others are just laughing and remarking about how it looks like it really hurts.
"AAAAAARGH! AGHHH!"
"Look are you assholes going to help or not?" one of them asks.
"Hey, I told you fuckers not to go traipsing into a place that has skulls stuck on stakes. Y'all should've known it wasn't exactly going to be a friendly place."
"We need fuckin' gas Jim, and this place has a lot of vehicles, and maybe some of them have gas. We had to go check!"
"Well yeah, but that didn't mean just walking around unaware of your surroundings shit that leg looks bad."
"GET IT OFF! AAAAHHHH!"
"That leg is bad. Even if you did get it off of him, he's probably going to lose it to infection. I wiped my own shit on it, not to mention it was developing a nice set of rust on it when I found it. I'd say his bike riding days are over." You say standing your doorway with your shotgun ready. The bikers look in your direction, one looks like he's going to pull his pistol, but the one called Jim stops him. He's obviously the leader.
"You might be right, stranger, but that still leaves you outnumbered one to three. You sure you wanna take those odds?" Jim says.
"I'll take 'em and I'll enjoy it. It's been a long time since I've killed a whole mess of people."
"Oh, so you're a REAL killer eh?"
"Better killer than you."
"Hah! I doubt that! See me an' the boys here have been raisin' hell where ever we can. Come across a few towns and let's just say we're not real welcome there anymore. It's a brand new world, and only the strong are gonna survive it."
"Yeah? Well it looks like one of your flock isn't so strong now."
"Yeah well you might be right about that stranger maybe someone should put him out of his misery. Can't very well ride with one leg, that'd be kind of silly."
The biker trying to help speaks up.
"Oh come on Jim man! Clyde here saved all of our asses about a month ago!"
"Yeah? Well what has he done for us lately? The stranger's right, we gotta put him down, it's the kind thing to do really. You gonna do it, Dan?"
"No I mean well "
"Pussy. Nevermind. Ramon you gonna do it?"
"Shit yeah! Here hold on, oh fuck." Ramon says pulling out his pistol and then dropping it on the ground. Jim just shakes his head.
"Ramon, its amazing you've even lasted this long with your clumsy ass. Fuck it, I'LL do it."