Ever since those Americans allowed gays into the military, it has become oh so easy to infiltrate their intelligence units. You don't even have to pass their rigorous exams. Their hot, young soldiers long for "friendly" accompaniment. I merely showed up, befriended a handsome young lieutenant (newly graduated from some top-notch military school), and moved into an apartment with him.
He never once suspected that I was a foreign operative. He thought I was some guy from California. I opened his eyes to new and exciting sexual experiences. (The trainers in the KGB had taught me well.)
Little did he know I was stealing the intel briefings from his computer while he was in the shower. It was especially easy once I figured out that he used my name as his password.
Well, unfortunately, one day, he caught me in his files. It was quite unfortunate. He was handsome and quite enjoyable in the bedroom. However, I had a job to do.
He stood there, shocked that I had hacked into his computer. I merely gave him a sheepish grin and grabbed the knife from the counter. Before he could react, I rammed it into his sweet abs.
He backed up against the brick wall. His eyes showed that he was hurt, both physically and emotionally. Poor guy, I felt sorry for him. He writhed a little, but made no noise, just the heaving of his chest with every breath.
I watched him until his body limped and his puppy eyes glossed over. I knew I was going to miss him, but my duty to the
motherland was greater. Besides, there would be many other handsome
young soldiers looking for some companionship.
The two men faced each other, fists clenched and anger raging. They had been lifelong friends, but the newly introduced presence of a woman made their hormones broil.
The fought long and hard. Their bulging muscles throbbed, and flexed as they struggled against each other. The woman merely watched on. Their coveting of the woman's hand matched with their passionate jealously for the other fueled their rage.
Jake had gotten the upper-hand, beating Corey against the fence. Corey turned away, sparing his handsome young face from the onslaught of Jake's fists. After a couple of minutes, Jake grabbed the spear out of the woman's hands and rammed it through Corey's back.
The spear pierced all the way through the man. Corey's body arched backwards as the spear plunged through his bowels and out of his gut. Jake shoved more of the spear through for good measure, bringing Corey up on his toes as pain ripped through his gut.
Jake went to the woman, leaving his former friend bleeding profusely with the spear through his handsome young body.
Through his anger, Corey was able to regain his thought. If he couldn't be with the woman, he would be with Jake. He slowly turned to face Jake whose back was turned to him. Corey then began running at his handsome companion.
Jake heard the footsteps and turned to see Corey charging him, but was too slow to dodge the sharp tip of the spear. It drove deep into his abs. Jake let out a loud yell and Corey winced as the spear that was sticking out of his body penetrated into his friend's gut.
The two stood there, facing each other. Their bowels burning with shocks of pain. They stared into each other's eyes. Sensing the pain, hurt, desire and lust. Their bodies began failing and their knees buckled as the two fell to the ground. Corey tried to push himself up and off the spear, but it was too much.
Finally, the two succumbed and died, their bodies pressed against each other. Neither had won the woman, but they had won each others' companionship.
Young foolish American boy. Did he really think he would have any success against the KGB. The CIA did well in making him look the part. Unfortunately, they got the dialect wrong.
Not that it really mattered, I was on to him since he showed up. But, then again, it was my business (and dare I say, in my best interest) to know who the CIA had hired to assassinate me. After all, I had taken out the two others sent before this one.
It was rather unfortunate to see how sloppy he was at his job. He must have been last in his class, but nonetheless, he was the one they sent, the poor bastard.
My men captured him on one of his daily morning jogs. (way too predictable). They bought him to the abandoned warehouse. He put up quite a good fight. Totally covered in dirt, sweat and bruises, he sat on the chair waiting for me.
Totally arrogant and cocky, just like the rest of them. Threatening me with drones, claiming others knew where he was, all signs of true desperation. Yet, even through his attempts at deception, he remained professionally proud of himself.
Little did he know, we already took out the drone. We already set up additional tracing beacons sending out the same frequency at the one embedded in his thigh. Poor arrogant boy, was ignorant that the cards he held in his hand were gone.
But, I was kind enough to fill him in on his (and his agency's) shortcomings. He still remained cocky, just like all of those other young American punks. He even offered to switch sides and work for me. (oh, how amusing this was.)
Man, was he pissed when I turned him down. Afterall, I couldn't possibly let someone who performed so poorly work for me. His anger blew up when I told him this.
He went for one of my men's knife. Little did he know I set it up that way, as a knife is my preferred method of death. He swung it at the guards, who backed away. He looked arrogantly at me, expecting me to flinch. I gave him no such satisfaction, I stood my ground.
I admired his young, strong, muscular body.... such a waste. He made his move at me and I quickly disarmed him. Holding the tip of the blade against his navel and my other hand on his shoulder, I sat him back down on the stool.
He told me he would tell me everything he knew if I would spare his life. (Still cocky, too. I might add.) I told him there was nothing he knew that I didn't. The man charged by the CIA to train him was one of my men.
I held his shoulder firmly as I sank the blade deep into his gut. He winced slightly at the pain, but wouldn't give me the pleasure of expressing his feelings. He regained his composure and flipped me the bird. (Oh how amusing it was to see a man fall at the height of arrogance.)
He slid to the floor on his knees and struggled to pull out the blade from his bowels. As he did, more blood gushed out, until his young, strong muscular body fell in a heap on the floor.
I can't wait until the send the next one.......
He thought he was better than the master. He thought wrong. Everyday, the master asked if there were any challengers for his position. On this day, Chai made the mistake of standing up.
It was a short-lived challenge as the master merely flung his blade across the room, nailing the young student in the gut. There was a gasp as the young man stood there in shock at the swiftness of the master's response.
After a few seconds, the student pulled the blade from his abs and fell to his knees. He bowed his head in shame to his master and collapsed on the floor.
He was so vain. This young man had it all. A chiseled physique, the hottest new car, a handsome face, all the money he will ever need. The son of one of the wealthiest men in town. He had his own pool, his own workout room, even his own personal trainer. Like I said, this young man had it all.
He had completed high school a year ago. Instead of going to college, (he didn't need it since his parents were loaded.) he spent his nights partying at the club or cruising the strip. His parents were rarely home, so he had the mansion to himself.
Besides his cruising, partying, working out and going to the beach, he had one obsession, fantasy role playing games. That's right, especially D&D. He would get a large group together and play a module or two almost every day. He even paid professionals to come be the dungeon masters for the games.
He loved the adventures, the stories, and most of all, the kills. He even had a room decorated especially for the games. He was that obsessed.
One day as he was driving home from a late night clubbing, he met an old homeless lady sitting on the curb outside the club. She asked him for some change. Luckily, he had a small pocketful. He handed it to her with a wink.
She smilingly took it and placed a small talisman in his hand. "This," she said, "will grant you one wish. "
The young man placed it in his pocket and walked away. "What a crazy old coot," he thought.
Later that night, a few of his buddies finished off another D&D module. Only one of his buddies characters survived the game. His own character died early on with an imp's sword through his gut. He still hung around to listen to the storyline and hear how each of his buddies either died or beat the game.
After they all went home, the young rich guy took a shower. The hot steamy water washed away the sweat and grime of the day. When he got out, he wrapped a towel around him and picked up his clothes. The talisman fell out of the pocket onto the floor.
He picked it up and jokingly decided to give it a try. But, what to wish for? He had everything he ever needed or wanted. He held out the talisman, let out a chuckle and said, "I wish D&D was real for one night.
He was surprised when the lights flickered out. It scared him briefly, but knew it was just a coincidence that the lights went out. He grabbed one of the bathroom candles and lit it. He looked at himself in the mirror, shook his head and laughed. "That was some great timing."
"I agree," said a voice from the mirror. There, in the reflection, the young man saw a demon in the mirror. It was all too real. His wish had come true. But he knew the rules, demons couldn't come out of mirrors.
He pointed at the demon and laughed. "Haha, you can't get me from there." The demon stared at him grinning.
The young man felt something cold pressed against his abs. He looked down on the counter and there stood an imp with it's blade against the young man's stomach.
The demon in the mirror commanded the imp. "Do it."
The young man's eyes widened at the forcefulness of the command. Before he could react, the imp rammed the sword straight into his upper abs. He felt the blade slice easily through his body. He looked down at the sword handle sticking out of his gut.
He lost this game as well...
He was constantly drunk and bragging. Showing off his "skills" with the spear was a nightly occurance, This night, he was boasting about how strong his abs were. He made sure everyone in the bunkhouse felt his abs. A couple of guys even punched his hard gut.
He then began bragging how his abs were strong enough to repel a spear. Finally, someone called him on his bluff. His drunk ass put money on the table and stood up to the challenge. He had the guy try to ram the spear into his gut.
Sure enough, there was only an audible thud when the tip of the spear bounced off his abs. This was remarkable. Each of the guys took turns trying, not realizing that he had placed a rubber tip on the point of his spear. He was cockier and more boastful than ever.
Then, it was my turn. As he was boasting, he didn't see me remove the protective piece of rubber. He turned towards me and I rammed the spear full force into his belly-button. The sharp point easily tore through his gut and out his back.
The crowd let out a gasp. He staggered a little, but was too drunk to realize what had actually happened. He staggered a bit, telling the crowd he was fine until he finally fell over.
I collected the money on the table and left.
Lucas ran as fast as he could. The leader of the expedition had told them the natives in this area were not hostile towards the missionaries. But when the group arrived in the village, things turned bad quickly.
Lucas had watched as several of his friends were killed. The only thing he knew to do was run for it. He hid out in the forest, stripping himself down to his boxes as the clothing he had been wearing were bright colors.
The pouring rain made his escape difficult. Much to his surprise, the natives were good trackers and quickly found him. The man's adrenaline went to an all high and he bolted into a fast sprint, splashing in the mud as he ran.
A couple of arrows flew past him. He grabbed one as he ran past where it was sticking in the mud. He turned and flung it, hitting a native straight through the chest. He raised his middle finger and turned to run.
Much to his surprise another native had made it out of the forest in front of him fully prepared to throw his spear. Lucas attempted to stop, but just then, the native's spear was airborn and struck the young missionary right in the belly button, piercing him completely through.
He let out a loud scream as the spear tore through his innards. He legs immediately gave out and he fell, writhing in the mud. A group of the natives advanced on the dying man and began stabbing him multiple times with their spear tips until his body went limp.
But, the group leader was mostly correct. The natives weren't hostile. They were just hungry.
