Best+of+the+Year+-+Mr+Larsen's+Selections

__ **MAGS, 2015 AD ** __ __**by Joe Bowman **__ A head wrapped in a white cloth popped up like a mouse from behind a sideways slab of concrete. The twilight was as yellow as bile, and the air smelt of chemicals and smoke. The head was allowed a moment unnoticed before a gas-masked man in a building opposite set his gun upon the Spartan sill of a shattered window. There was a muted //puk// and a metallic //ping// as the headband-wearing youth ducked for cover. All that stood between the hunter and his game was an empty set of green asphalt courts. His head wound was worsening again, and as violent red blood began to stain the dressing once more, he pulled an antique revolver out of his sock. ‘Thanks, Mr. Burden,’ he whispered to himself with some semblance of cheer, and clumsily began to load the dilapidated weapon. The masked man checked his gun for any inconsistencies in its preparation. Its brutal frame was sleek and shiny, and bore a deadly black barrel. He pulled a walkie-talkie out of his utility belt. ‘Operative Omega Scouting Mission complete. Squad, move in. It’s just a waiting game until it gets into their lungs. Phase One of Operation Alberton complete.’

__**From "The Sniper"**__


 * by Max Ashmore**

A slight rustle sounded underneath the rusted iron sheet. It stopped for a few seconds, and then experimentally tried again. This time, the scraping noise went on for several seconds before halting. Finally, with a loud creak, the sheet of corrugated iron was lifted, and a face pulled itself out of the shadows. From his perch high above, the lone sentinel started, and looked down on the stealthily moving figure. He pulled his long rusty rife from under his straggly blankets, and took an aim through the grimily lens. Down on the dark ground, the scavenger fastidiously pulled a window loose, placing the frame of glass in its crudely fashioned knapsack, before moving quickly towards the dark exit. The sentinel took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and fired. The creature spud as if it had taken a punch to the jaw, before desperately staggering towered the exit. He fired again, but the stress threw his aim off and the bullet tore through the air above the creatures shoulder. The thing reached the faux safety of a large sheet of plate iron, and hurled itself down beside it. However, it had chosen poorly, and the shooter still had a clear angle to it. He took a second to clear his head and fired, for the third and final time. This shot struck true. The first sound, exempting the dull cracks of the shots, filled the still air. A final keening scream, a high animal sound, echoed off the dissected steel skeletons, tore from the things mouth. In Its final motion, its eyes searched wildly for their killer, sweeping over the sentinel’s hiding place without a second thought. He climbed slowly down the warped frames. As he set foot on the cracked ground, his foot jarred painfully against the unforgiving ground, as he had been up in a harness for the last twelve hours. He slowly stalked over the corpse, all the while scowling at he fresh stabs of pain the each step brought. He reached the body; he turned it over, and looked deep into its face. He pulled himself away from the husk, bile rising in his throat. He forced it down, and trough the mist of his self-hatred, he seemed to see a hand, like his own and yet subtly different, rising. The old pistol it held seemed to fire silently, as the world drained its couleur, finally slipping into blackness.

__**The Civilisation**__


 * by Matthew Battley**

The school was in havoc, people running everywhere, classroom to classroom. Even the principal was in hysterics. The great grey sheet loomed ever closer to the school. All around them, the city was crumpling and dying, the whole life force had been swept away. And still the gases crept on, taking in everything in their stride.

The attack had begun without warning, one day the greatest trouble was the economy, the next people were fighting for their lives within a nuclear holocaust. What Australia had taken offence to was anyone’s guess, but they were here and that was what counted.

Back at the school, the anthill like activity continued, everyone knew they were doomed. But then, without warning, something incredible happened. With an unearthly “crack!” the ground in a one kilometre radius of the school split cleanly and with an almost zero gravity feeling Mount Albert Grammar slid down a newly created chasm. 10 seconds later they hit the bottom, not with a crunch, but a hiss and people once again began to stir. They woke just in time to hear another large crunch as the ground (now a long way above them) slid across to seal the gap they had come down. This fact unsettled most people to an even greater extent (if that was at all possible), as it was the general consensus that they were now sealed in an airtight cave. Coming to their senses people realised that they and the school had been saved from imminent destruction and a puzzled silence swept across the school. Then to add to their thoughts, the darkness encompassing them was interrupted, one by one large lights illuminated the area. The students could now see their surroundings. In a new-found interest, the schools inhabitants began to survey their new domain. It was not in fact a rocky walled cave as they had expected. In fact the walls were filled with technology, more extensive than any person there had seen before. The Students stared in awe.

“Nice isn’t it,” came a voice from behind them. The inhabitants of Mount Albert Grammar rotated in a millisecond flat. “Oh…don’t look so alarmed, it’s only me” groaned the same voice again. The Students eyes darted towards the sound. Before their eyes was a person so old that time itself seemed to distort around him. And yet, beyond the age there was something quite recognisable about him…

To be continued...


 * __Death in the Hole__

by Jack Gribben**

I was positioned in a stinking trench surrounded by mutilated corpses and the smell of decomposing diseased death. Rats one and a half feet long feasted on the organs of the dead. The cricket like chirping of rifles and machine guns could be heard in the subtle distance, my heart was beating at uncomfortably exceeding rates, I was in a hole in the dirt, worried as hell even though we were probably in one of the safest areas in the whole war zone.

The chirping stopped as i took a glance out of the shallow trench, the night was as still as an undisturbed pond in the middle of nowhere, where beasts were sleeping beneath the algae and muck. I felt anxious now that the firing had stopped, i didn’t know where the enemy was or what he was doing. Fear overtook my body as i tried to sleep, the pace changing and solid beating of my heart kept me wide awake, as demonic, horrid, approaching fear drained my capacity to even shut my eyes for 3 seconds.

Then, something gut churning and haunting drifted through the air. The conversation of two opposing soldiers speaking in tongue, hissing like snakes. The prompt loading of guns clicked in my brain and i fell into complete shock and panic. I termbled and shook with adrenaline controlling all my limbs. I briskly walked on legs of jelly avoiding stabbed and gun wounded corpses. I awoke my men and put on a tough cowardly face as i explained the situation. A couple of new men were convinced that i had simply been hearing things and that we were completely safe. One of them put their head up just to have a look.

BANG.

Brains exploded from the back of the head as the blood soaked offal remnants splattered on to a dirt wall behind the man. Making a pattern of sabotage and brutality. Panic rose as every single man screamed like little girls throwing tantrums. We threw around 15 lifeless men over the top of the trench, heavy machine guns instanly started ripping them apart as we used this distraction to make an escape. Away from the brutal, venomous, vile, cunning and disgusting beings. **__The Death of Warley (from Master and Commander)__** **by Levi Heeringa** I was clinging onto the mast for dear life. It was all I could do to stay on. The wind was like millions of hands grabbing at me, pulling me down towards the dark, unforgiving ocean. Suddenly I heard an awful cracking sound. One that every sailor dreads. The mast began to tilt downwards and was blown into the air as if it was a feather by the gale force winds. For a few seconds it was magical. It was as if I was seeing things in slow motion. I saw the ship with all the men turning and looking at me, shouting. the sails flapping furiously. Then, as quickly as it came, the moment was gone, shattered by the impact with the water. All of a sudden i was swimming for my life. Struggling against the waves. Upon impact i had drifted from the mast, which was still connected to the ship. I swam towards it with all my energy. I reached out for it. I was almost there. I looked up towards the ship, and to my horror i saw the lines being cut. suddenly the mast went limp. The boat started to fade into the distance. How could they? Betrayal. How could they leave me? Darkness. Such darkness.