NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: I aim for this to be one of the most violent threads in all of NS. A tough challenge, I'm sure, but let's see. This is based on Running with Scissors' Classic "Postal". *Curtain raises*

Oh, before I start. Would anyone like to be one of the horrified masses/ Cops? It's set in Dregruk, incidentally...

I'm reading Teeth of of the Tiger. The terrorist attacks there is pretty bloody, at crowded shopping malls, no less. For shock effect, have kids under 18 die in cop's hands. It's really sad... :( .

Herb had been a mailman for most of his life. His co-workers would describe him as being, "very quiet, usually kept to himself most of the time, but a really nice guy." That was before Herb was fired from the Post office. Turns out Herb had not been delivering the mail, instead he had been piling it up in a rented storage area. Although charges had not been pressed against Herb, (Thanks to his union,) Herb was dismissed as a postal employee after 24 years of service.

...This is what caused Herb to lose his sanity...

Herb calmly unloaded a dufflebag from the trunk of his new car that he had been saving his entire life to own and would now lose, having been given a third notice for payments not received by the finance company.

"They'll pay for what they did to me," thought Herb, checking inside of his bag and inspecting the tools he would be using for what used to be his work. "12 gauge shotgun, AK-47 assault rifle, machete, chainsaw, powerdrill, circular saw, pipebombs, blowtorch, all there." Herb drew his Desert Eagle .357 semi-automatic handgun just in time to greet Phil, who would be retiring this week.

Phil's eyes widened as Herb leveled the powerful handgun directly at his head and fired at point blank range, spraying the contents of Phil's head all over the main entrance to the post office.

OOC: I'll keep that in mind...

IC:

Giarc Eirual was an average lawyer, trying to make enough cash to have a respectable retirement. A beautiful wife and a successful career: What more could a man ask for?

But fate had other plans.

Giarc kept things to himself. He never spoke of his troubles, which weighed down heavily on his mind. On a crisp, Autumn day, he couldn't take it any more.

---

Giarc woke up to find his wife was gone. He rubbed his eyes and walked into the kitchen, finding a note lying there. Upon reading it, Giarc sat down. His wife had left him for his best friend. How cliched.

But nothing is a cliche when it's happening to you.

He walked over to his fridge to get out a beer. The handle on the door snapped off, trapping everything inside it. Giarc sighed, and started to get dressed. His favourite shirt tore when he tryed to put it on, so he had to settle for an old t-shirt and a red fox-hunting jacket. He decided to cheer himself up by watching an old comedy flick. The tape broke inside his VCR, wrecking both. Giarc sighed again, and thought away to himself.

Inside his cupboard was a pistol... maybe he should just end it all. But Giarc got up and headed to his car.

The final blow came when he snapped his car-key in the lock. He felt a volcano erupt in his mind, a whole new train of thought came pouring into place... He would make everyone pay. It was all their fault; not his. With their deaths, perhaps he could start a new life. But it was too late.

He'd gone postal.

OOC: And so, it begins...

Herb looked up and saw the aged Federal Security guard scrambling with the keys successfully lock the door to the Post office. Phil knew that his handgun would not penetrate the Lexan windows or the reinforced concrete that Post offices were constructed with, so he reholstered his handgun, and as he stepped past the trunk of his former coworkers body that now only had a stump at the neck, thought to himself, "You think you've locked me out, but in fact you've really trapped yourselves in. Herb reached inside his bag and withdrew the blowtorch. He advanced toward the door and lit the burner.

Herb salivated involuntarily, thinking of the carnage he would soon serve to the workers and patrons inside the building.

Giarc walked out of his house with his handgun in his hand. The local newspaper boy was walking up the driveway. "Mornin' Mr. Ei..." The boy stopped dead in his tracks. He shuddered as he felt something tear through his chest, and looked down to see blood pouring out of a hole. He collapsed, to see Giarc walk past him and fire at everyone unlucky enough to be in the street at the time. The most unnerving thing about Giarc was his absolute calmness.

One person ran to a phone, dialled for the police and managed to scream "HE'S GONE POSTAL!" Into the microphone before a bullet stopped her dead. Literally.

Giarc walked along the street, amongst panicky crowds. He fired at every single person he saw. Behind him, the streets were strewn the bodies. One man crawled along, his chest riddled with bullets. He gurgled for help. before Giarc rested his foot on his back and fired into his head. Brains splattered over the street.

OOC: Most Violent...perhaps...most gorey...nevar! :wink:

http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=103594

most gorey...nevar! :wink:

We'll beat you. This thread will make you throw up when it's finished! :twisted: