How did you last die

[EasterMoise]

It was a dark, dark day upon the Research Construct 1400000000000000. Wages were cut, due to the lack of money that had been flowing into the station, a traitor, had been murdering the crew. The crew, at the time, were on their toes; scared, helpless.

Charles J. Bryce, a recent arrival to Research Construct 1400000000000000, heard the cries, and screams almost immediately as he proceeded to extend his foot out from the arrival shuttle, before it departed from the station moments afterwards. His expression, as if he were without emotion, as he continued to listen to the said grueling cries, and yelps on radio. A Luis Smith had been reported upon the vessel, but Charles J. Bryce decided to pay no head to the reports of a rioter, rioting due to the fact that wages upon the station had been recently cut.

Charles J. Bryce shrugged his shoulders, as his eyes fixated upon the hallway as he turned on his heels towards the set of doors lining the entrance as to the hallway leading to security. A smile appeared upon his face, having heard of the new crew benefits implemented onto the station's underused boxing arena. Charles J. Bryce extended his right-hand to his ear, removing his earpiece, before loosening his grip around the said earpiece dropping it onto the floor, sighing as he raised his foot upwards slightly before lightly pressuring his foot upon the device, crushing it.

"Thing's ruinin' the mood," he yawned, as he made his way swiftly to the station gym. "...Best I didn't make the wrong decision" he sighed under his breath, shaking his head. Charles J. Bryce's hands clasped behind his back, his eyes scanning the hallway as he made his way forwards to the gym. Suddenly, his eyes cringed in a mix of disgust, and fright. A lone, bare corpse, laying in the hallway ahead of crew's quarters.

Shocked, within his sudden state of panic upon seeing the lone corpse, his jaw dropped. "W- What the... I- I," Charles mumbled lightly under his breath, as he continued on his way, attempting to disregard the horid sight, having been trained by Nanotrasen staff psychologically to "deal with such... unfortunate situations," as he quotes by one staff member of Nanotrasen' Abilities' Training, or (NAT).

Charles J. Bryce opened the door to the gym, his eyes scanning the vicinity within the quarters of the research vessel. Gym equipment, a boxing ring along with several other items were displayed ahead of him in a glorious, concentrated fashion. His hands extended behind his back above his waist, clasping into a bundle as his expression shot into an expression of pure, unadulterated joy. Charles J. Bryce stepped inwards into the gym, a light "CREAK!" could be heard, as he stepped along the hardwood tiling, his head tilting downwards, admiring the sound within his motions.

Suddenly, the sound of a mix of screaming, and grunting could be heard. Two individuals were using the equipment ahead of him, one lifting, and one using the bags, sweat dripping from their forehead, their jaws dropped out of pure fatigue. Charles J. Bryce stopped within his steps, his jaw opening, as though he were suprised as he examined the sight ahead of him. Suddenly, the individual lifting tilts his head downwards, staring at Charles J. Bryce motionless, grunting, as he suspends the weights above his head as he pumped his iron. Moments later, a glorious, majestic yelp is heard, as the individual examines Charle J. Bryce's facial features. "AAAA... N- NEW COOOMMMERRR! YEEAAAAHHHH, SCRUUUB" the individual shouted, as he lifted the weights above his head into place.

A fart was thunderous fart was heard, as Charle's head shot towards the direction as to the second indiviudal; confused. Suddenly, as if the second individual were an owl, his head turned on his neck backwards, facing Charles as he stood motionless at the door of the gym. "GAAAAAAAAIIIIIIINNNNNNSSS" the individual yelped, as he punched at the bag ahead of him, his head in a full 180 degree, as he stared at Charles.

"READ THE STIIICCCKKKKYYYYY SCRUB", the two yelled in a majestic, yet, grueling tone, their voices combined as though they were in-sync with eachother as they stared at the thin, frail individual. "YOU BEESST NOT BE LEAVVINNG MAAAAANN, GET TO PUMPIN' IRON, SCRUB, OR WE'LL THROW YOU DOWN DISPOSALS MAAAAAAAAAN YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH", the first, visually, the tallest one yelled at the individual.

ANYWAYS TL;DR GLORIOUS BATTLE TOO LONG

RIGHT, SO LIKE, LUIS SMITH WAS FUCKIN' LIKE RIOTING OR SOME SHIT RIGHT SO LIKE THE CREW WEN'T AFTER HIM, HAVING HEARD ABOUT THE SHIT IN THE AIRBRIDGE HALLWAY. OH GOD, THEY USED THEIR NEW-FOUND STRENGTH TO PUNCH THROUGH SHEETS OF GLASS UNTIL FINALLY MEETING WITH THEIR ENEMY AT THE END OF THE HALLWAY, CONSTRUCTION MORE SHIT TO THROW INTO THE AIRBRIDGE

LUIS SMITH

THEIR SWORN ENEMY

SO LIKE, THEY CRACK THEIR KNUCKLES, THEIR FACES DRY WITH PURE HATRED AS THEY STARE AT THE THIN INDIVIUDAL

"YOU'RE DEAD", THEY SCREAM AT THE INDIVIDUAL IN UNISON BEFORE LITERALLY PLOWING THROUGH THAT SHITTY SHIT OH GOD AND LUIS RAN I THINK I DON'T KNOW MANG BUT STILL

SO THEN, LIKE, THE THREE WERE CHASING THAT NEGUS DOWN THE HALL AND THEN SUDDENLY HE PULLED A WELDING TOOL AND A WELDING MASK AS THIER EYEBROWS RAISED OUT OF PURE CONFUSION

SO, THEY FIGHT AND OH, HOW IT WAS A GLORIOUS BATTLE. BY THE END, EVERYONE WAS IN CRITICAL, DYING OF THEIR SEVERE WOUNDS THEY HAD TAKEN

THE WELDING TOOL BROUGHT THE THREE DOWN TO NEAR-DEATH HEALTH, I SHIT YOU NOT

AND OH GOD, CHARLES PASSED OUT, AND THE TWO CONTINUED TO FIGHT BUT IDK I GOT STUFFED INTO DISPOSALS AND DIED

HERE'S A PIC



OH GOD, REST IN PEACE


by the way don't hit me if you see anything wrong w/ the story above I wrote it as fast as I could