Random Short-term Stories (Fanfictions)

Superboy Noir

THWACK!THWACK.THWACK!!!


The sound of wood being wailed into by fierce blows echoes within a shady farmhouse out in the outskirts of Kansas, bits flying and scattering onto the floor - this went on until the young man wielding the axe completely cut his way through yet another layer obscuring the secrets that lie underneath the forsaken-home-turned-butcher-house. The last of several, in fact. His method was tedious and primitive for someone of his caliber, but he was determined to keep up his charade of being nothing more than a resourceful man, and not one who transcends the ilk of humans. Having a convincing handiwork that belies his true capabilities was of value, even if it seems like he's totally alone. By his lonesome he does indeed stand in the face of pitch darkness leading underground. Liquid of freshly drawn blood dripping from the jaded steel of the lumberjack tool in hand. Fresh blood staining his attire, as well - appearing as if someone had tossed a bucket of crimson at him. In a way, that was what happened...

[ 8 minutes ago. . . ]

[ "Toss 'em over there with the bad meat. Lettem get a good look at what's in stored for him when the lad wakes up." One of the dozen of masked men instructs as the group enters the abandoned home. Southerners, the mentioned lad - who was very much awake and feigning unconsciousness, deduces from their accent. Like a rag doll, he was tossed onto a cushy pile of decaying flesh. Dismembered, foul, and bloody flesh that not only filled his superb sense of smell with something unimaginably disgusting, but also dampens his clothes a bit with traces of blood. He fights displaying a reaction, especially when he hears a weak, low squeal nearby.

"Aaah, I can hardly wait to chop that pretty head off. It's always the soft lookin' ones who are the stupidest bastards of the land, ya know? God, I hope he f***in' begs." A different voice speaks up this time. Sounds of footsteps soon follow, along with something being picked up on the other side of the room.
"UGH... So worn and dull.. Gotta' sharpen this dang thing. Where's mah other gal?" The same voices speaks out again, earning chuckles from some of the others. The object can be heard touching down again before footsteps creep about, briefly so.
"AAAHH! That's where I put ya, huh? Oooh, what a beaut'! You're about to ruin some unlucky boy's night, my fine sharp lassy!" That same man enthuses as he wields the object. He hums an upbeat tune, making his way back to the young man they kidnapped from the big city they left. Soon, he comes to stand over the young man's side, grinning something fierce behind his mask as he lifts that object far above his own head.

"Oh boy... Here comes a mess!" One of the others comments, every one of them watching within amusement.

"HHHHAAAAAAH---NGH!!" The axe wielding degenerate roars out, slamming the weapon down with everything he had to give. SKRSSH! Flesh was struck and desperate squealing ensued. The creature on the city boy's opposite with dealt a gruesome blow, one that caused blood to gush and seep, splashing far across the room and onto the bonded male's tidy clothes. The maniac certainly getting a considerable amount of it on himself, as well.

"Gaaaaaaw-dang it, Mitch! Ya got some of it on me!" A third voice complains.

"HAHA! Woooo, boy! Still got it, baby!" The axe-wielder boasts, evidently pleased with himself. The boy on the floor, who was none other than the Boy Of Steel in disguise, was relieved he wasn't the target. Trying to play off an axe bouncing off his body would've been rather difficult. Luckily, something pressing was about to steal the men's attention.