I just made this to practice my action scenes as I have only started writing again recently, wrote it quite quickly. It centres around adrenaline taking control of someone in the midst of a combat situation, causing him to "Red Mist", or go berserk. Please review and let me know how I can improve. Thanks in advance.
Andy scrambled frantically towards the car directly in front of him, launching himself the last few feet in a desperate attempt to escape the hail of bullets whistling and cracking around his head. He held his weapon in his trembling hands, the black sheen of the metal muted under the viscous red blood which now covered it.
Raising himself slowly up the outside of the car he peered across the street over the bonnet. There were four or five men, all outfitted in the traditional green and brown camouflage of the Army. To Andy’s untrained eyes they looked like the epitome of discipline; they placed their shots professionally, conserving ammunition and suppressing Andy and his comrades with apparent ease.
Finally remembering his friends Andy scanned his surroundings desperately, trying to locate Josh and Dan. He saw both men taking cover behind a waist-high wall, firing hysterically towards the soldiers across the empty street. Following his friends’ lead Andy leaned his body up and over the bonnet of the car he was hiding behind, and began to pull the trigger of his rifle. Blinding light emanated from the muzzle of his rifle, leaving after-images floating in Andy’s vision, while the deafening cracks of bullets being fired threatened to deafen him.
Adrenaline began to course through Andy’s system, taking over control of his body, to the point that Andy felt as though he were a visitor in his own body, seeing the sights and hearing the sounds of the battle around him but not allowing any of them to register. There was only the moment that he was living, pure energy and excitement, everything else was just a distraction.
Soon though the adrenaline was beginning to fade, and a feeling of wrongness began to niggle at Andy. He scanned the area around himself and the feeling continued to grow. That’s it, he realised. Where have the lights and sounds gone? It was then he felt something in his mind click into place, and the training began to take over. The thumb of his right hand pressed on a catch on the rifle, and the empty magazine clanged against the pavement. His left hand was already reaching for a pocket on his jacket and within seconds Andy felt a reassuring click as the magazine locked into place. He cocked the rifle and began to fire immediately, the adrenaline rush comforting him again, removing the fear, guiding his body better than he ever could.
In the middle of the flashing lights and the whistling and cracking Andy hardly noticed the flecks of red. But soon the adrenaline began to fade again. Then Andy began to scream. Blood poured from his shoulder in rivulets down his chest and right arm. His rifle hit the floor with a metallic screech. As the last vestiges of adrenaline disappeared Andy took full control of his senses again.
He looked to his left and saw that his friends were both laying on the floor, in an endless sleep, balaclavas concealing their faces. Streams of blood ran from each of the figures, forming rivers as their blood combined and flowed along the pavement.
Andy screamed louder, the agony at the death of his friends fusing with the pain from his shoulder, forcing him to take leave of his senses. He glowered at the soldiers across the road, who appeared to have taken not a single casualty. Resigning himself, Andy bellowed incoherently at them, welcoming the end.
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