by Alan Spencer
Hangman phoned in to his superior at Globo Corps. The superior didn't have a name. The people behind the curtain were shrouded in secrecy. Hangman told the voice on the other end of the line about the current escalating situation, and asked if they had any ideas for swift courses of action.
"Preserve the dumping facility. Kill every last enemy on the island, including all native life. Do so at any cost."
The caller hung up.
Hangman smiled underneath his red silk kerchief. Kill every last enemy on the island. It's what they should've done from the start instead of doing all of this hard work security bullshit. Why they kept the cannibals and dinosaurs alive so long was beyond him. The company might've believed the native life was worth a level of future monetary gain. Now that was up in smoke. I guess Globo Corps was cutting their losses.
Hangman wasn't sure who would survive the night.
He was prepared to see blood shed on both sides.
Whose blood would flow in vain, and whose in victory?
Hangman hit the intercom button and addressed the entire building. "Workers report to the armory. We've got a situation on our hands. Every dinosaur, cannibal, and prisoner must die tonight. Move fast. We've got little time. The enemy is knocking on our door."
The workers abandoned the security checkpoint room, and Hangman rushed the stairs. The armory was on the main floor; every worker on the island crowded the stairway. He enjoyed the expressions of dismay on their faces.
This was going to be one hell of a night.
Hangman opened the stairway door that lead to the main level. He crossed two hallways, pushing through hordes of workers who were forming a line outside the armory's door. Hangman parted the sea of bodies, and hit the code to unlock the keypad's door. When he opened it, Hangman gave a short speech before letting his workers have their chance to pick their weapons.
"We've got a prison breakout in progress. Dinosaurs are seconds from battering down our doors. Cannibals are right behind them ready to eat the flesh from our backs. I want every enemy slaughtered. No prisoners. We're cleaning the slate. Use any means necessary. Work together to vanquish this threat. No rules. Only kill them all. And I want you to enjoy it. I WANT YOU TO FUCKING GET OFF ON IT! Use their blood as lubrication to jerk off. I don't care. Show them no mercy. Show them the insanity inside you.
"Grab the weapons you deem most worthy to the cause, and make sure you're proficient in their use before picking it up and getting yourself killed. Use what you take. Our superiors have left us a huge selection of items. Survive the night, and I promise you high rewards. Our company is not shy about awarding those who prove worthy to the cause. You've sacrificed so much, why let this threat steal our achievements here on the island?
"Now go out there, and finish 'em off! Bathe in their blood. Dance in death. Rape their bodies. Savage their souls. Spill their blood in the name of victory. Bring so much fear into them, their blood boils at the very sight of you. They might outnumber us, but we've got the firepower to blow their heads out of their ass to goddamn infinity!"
Hangman threw open the armory's door. The crowd of workers stampeded inside. He watched flame throwers ripped from the steel shelves along side M-60's, M-16's, rocket launchers, M79 grenade launchers, grenades by the case-load, Winchester, Mossberg, and Remington shotguns, SPAS-15 machine guns, Gatling guns, modified elephant guns that fired mini heat-seeking rockets, boxes of dynamite, C-4 charges, riot gear, and in the very back, jet packs armed with rocket launchers, and machine guns. Thousands of weapons flew out that door in minutes. Hangman stayed with the group, barking orders, boosting morale, and bringing out the savages in all of them.
"Pussy by the pound to those who survive tonight," Hangman promised. "Top shelf pussy. Hot neon pink pussy. Pussy that folds like origami. The kind of pussy that steps out of your dreams and sits right on your cock. The type of pussy that's never dry. The caliber of pussy that makes you bark like a dog. No questions asked, you want it, you got it, and if we can't find it, it doesn't fucking exist. If you can't think of the kind of shit you're into, then talk to me, and I'll help you. I'll show you everything that has a hole you can fuck. Bottom line, you're getting off!
"Many of you have killed on a regular basis. Now I'm giving you bigger and better tools to provide the means of true slaughter. Don't let me down. If you're still standing by the end of the night, we shall party like GODS!"
Hangman and his battle-ready crew bolted out the front doors of the compound, and met the threat lurking in the near distance.
War was about to commence.
The Search Continues
Pierce had very little time to orchestrate his plan after Willy's body was cooked crispy. He stole the other dead guard's outfit, put it on, and was headed towards the front entrance when hundreds of guards stormed out the front doors. Pierce thought for a second they were after him. He was about run like hell in the opposite direction, when he heard things coming closer beyond the perimeter gates.
His spine stiffened at the sound of the singing cannibals unleashing their war cries. Worse yet, the sonic boom stomping of something very large and pissed off. A literal stampede of dinosaurs were charging for the base. He could see their shapes become clearer through the thick of the jungle. Elongated necks could see well over the treetops, while other threats remained in the shadows of the jungle. Any minute, the packs of dinosaurs and cannibals would storm the place.
Pierce kept changing his plan. He only had one mission, and that didn't involve going head-to-head with cannibals, dinosaurs, or mutated men. Susan and Lee Branch could be in that building somewhere. He owed it to them to search out the building, locate them, and form a plan from there to get off this island without anybody getting killed.
Pierce clung to the shadows as he approached the building's entrance. He heard orders being barked from a single man as the henchmen took position on the open grass ready to intercept the incoming threat. Pierce was happy to have his back to the incoming battle.
The foyer beyond the entrance featured the mounted human heads of environmentalists.
What has been going on here?
This is truly sick.
Pierce had to learn the layout of the building. Most of the hallways were darkened. At each corner, emergency lights bathed the way in yellowish beams. Each hallway appeared to be the same: closed doors leading to offices, laboratories, and secret rooms.
Pierce tried the elevator.
It didn't work.
Damn it.
Where do I go?
This rescue mission is fucked.
In two seconds, the rescue mission no longer mattered. He heard the scrape of razor claws against the linoleum. The scrapes were spread out and soft, the sound of a predator tracking its prey. Pierce could turn his back, find out what was stalking him, and run for his life, but if he did that, he would burn that single moment to escape. There was no doubt what was behind him. Something covered in scales, armed with sharp as steel teeth, and very, very eager to take a chunk out of his ass.
Pierce bolted for the emergency stairs door. The predator gave a hiss, and bolted after him. Lucky for Pierce, the raptor was much farther down the hallway than he previously imagined. That bought him just enough time to force open the door, throw himself across the threshold, and slam the door closed.
The barrier was useless.
The raptor punched it right off the hinges. Pierce and the door were thrown down half a flight of stairs, and he scrambled to collect himself. Adrenaline was on his side, and he was able to think fast enough to be a worthy opponent in the fight. Pierce grabbed the door with both arms, and used it as a shield.
Nails against chalkboard was all he could hear as the raptor unleashed piercing howl after piercing howl, and slashed at the steel. A literal shower of sparks sprayed everywhere. Through the tiny window in the door, Pierce could see gnashing teeth, and the glowing black eye of the hungry raptor. The force of the raptor's punch kept sending Pierce back several
steps. He was at the end of the stairway. He was losing the strength in his arms to hold up the door, and his legs were wobbly after absorbing several blows from the deadly enemy. He was at a loss to figure out how to escape this predicament.
Options were severely limited, but Pierce lucked out again. He admitted to himself he was one lucky bastard. Even the dumb had luck, and Pierce had hit the dumb lottery. The luck might've been dumb, Pierce reasoned, but what he would do with his fortune would be high fucking brow.
Three stair steps from his position, someone from the staff had been doing something to the wall that required a sledgehammer. He imagined someone installing a piece of emergency equipment, or a phone box, or God knew what. Pierce didn't care. There it stood, propped against a wall: a sledgehammer.
The raptor reared back its front legs to pound the door again. Pierce rammed the door against the raptor, jumped the three steps, claimed the sledgehammer, and charged back at the prehistoric foe swinging.
Pierce swung at air on the first swing. After the second swing making a disappointing swish sound, Pierce tripped backwards. He barely dodged a slashing set of claws. Rising back to his feet, panting hard, and covered in burning sweat, Pierce knew if he didn't swing that sledgehammer and make it count, he would be dino meat.
Pierce hit the ground on all fours. The raptor had spun around, swinging his tail to pulverize him. The raptor missed. Its tail struck the wall so hard, it smashed through, and became stuck.
"That's it, you green motherfucker! I'm bringing this down on your fucking head!"
Pierce channeled every ounce of determination and rage into one hammer's fall. Direct hit! The sledge landed with enough force to shatter a house's foundation. The raptor's eyes burst out of its sockets, followed by two generous spurts of high-pressured blood.
The raptor folded over on the ground, dead.
Standing there with a sledgehammer dripping red, Pierce collected his breath. He wasn't allowed to collect much of that breath, when a set of hands grabbed him from behind and growled, "He's one of them. Kill him!"
First Front
Hangman stayed back from the front line to call in reinforcements. It became incredibly clear men with guns wouldn't be enough to battle the dinosaurs coming their way. He grabbed the radio receiver from the driver's side of the jeep, and instructed all vehicle units to report to the front lines. Hangman had a few surprises for these dinosaurs and cannibals. He could feel the cords of sinew and bone shape a hideous smile underneath his silk scarf.
Hangman was prepared for bloodshed.
His own lust for death had been anointed tonight.
Hangman grabbed his megaphone, and instructed his team. "Wait for my word to fire."
The first set of gates were battered down by a mix of brontosaurus and stegosaurus beasts. All around the perimeter, the barriers were toppled down by hordes of angry dinosaurs. T-Rex’s finished off the concrete poles that wouldn't give to the smaller dinosaurs' attempts. The base was breached at every angle.
Hangman decided to change the main formation in front of the base. "Form a tight circle! Cover each other. I want those with jetpacks airborne. Those with grenade launchers, target the larger dinosaurs. Turn those triceratops inside out with machine gunfire. And don't forget about the cannibals! OPEN FIRE NOW!!! I WANT EVERY ONE OF THEM DEAD!"
Hangman got up out of the jeep's seat, helmed the M-60 gun turret in the back, and started blasting. His firing marked the beginning of thousands and thousands of rounds being unleashed.
Ox-man, owning six arms, had six M-16's blazing fury at a wild pack of raptors. Hangman smiled as the bullets chewed the green from their bodies, and turned them into steaming reptile pulp. Watching those six arms change magazines and reload so fast was a wicked show to watch. What wasn't so wicked was the triangular-backed plated stegosaurus that picked up Ox-man by the neck, and threw him up in the air. Ox-man was impaled on one of the triangular spikes on its back.
"Goddamn it! That's one of my best men!"
Hangman concentrated his machine gun fire on the stegosaurus with the dying Ox-man stuck on its back. The bullets barely scratched the heavy plated exterior. Hangman wanted to see the damn thing die. He ordered Quad and Grenade to aim their rocket launchers at the beast.
Quad and Grenade didn't disappoint. Firing their rocket launchers in unison, they each hit their mark. The stegosaurus erupted into a mega plume of sizzling guts and meat. The head just dissolved like the contents of a shaken can of soda.
Quad and Grenade pumped their fists in the air in victory. Both fists were chopped off by the stone axes of the cannibals. Four cannibals with mouths for genitals and faces looking like gnarled veil meat each gutted and disembodied Quad and Grenade in seconds.
Hangman blasted the cannibals with two hundreds rounds of ammunition. The cannibals hit the ground as bloody slop.
"FUCK YEAH! Taste their meat IN HELL!"
Two dozens jeeps with machine gun turrets and rocket launchers joined in the fight. Six jeeps aimed their rocket launchers at the towering T-Rex who was getting dangerously close to the base. The T-Rex's body was blasted into eight pieces. So much blood erupted from the beast, the crimson wave splashed the wheels of the Hangman's jeep before seeping into the ground.
Men on jet packs were airborne, facing the fifty pterodactyls who screeched their wicked intentions across the night sky. Bursts of orange light flickered from the rapid-fire machine guns. Three of the men were overtaken, the flying dinosaurs chewing the men in half. Hangman growled in frustration as he watched his men crash down to the ground in gnarly pieces.
The threats on the ground were a different a matter. Hangman had spent so many rounds trying to take out the cannibals that his gun went dry. A brachiosaurus was stomping right towards his position. Fifty feet high, one-hundred and twenty thousand pounds heavy, the threat was clear. Hangman was thinking fast in the jeep. He grabbed a ream of grenades, a loaded M-16, extras clips, tore a rag from his shirt, and lit it on fire with his pocket lighter. He shoved that burning cloth into the gas tank, drove the vehicle at sixty miles an hour, and at the last moment before taking on the behemoth, he leapt from the vehicle and rolled away.
BA-BOOM!
The brachiosaurus had both its front legs blown to pieces. It landed on its face. A sharp crick sound followed. Its neck was broken.
Dead dinosaur fuck, Hangman thought.
Hangman dodged a collection of poison darts from the raging cannibals. The wooden darts landed all around him, sticking up from the ground. He was a lucky bastard. Not a single one touched him. If one of those had pierced him, serious poison would enter his bloodstream. He would be vomiting up his guts and shitting blood until he was dead. Men on the island called it "the seizure shits". The cannibals would pay the price for even attempting to take his life.
Pulling the pin on every grenade on his belt, he launched nine at the cannibals. Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. Bodies exploded in mid-air. A hail of bones and a rain of blood splattered the area. Hangman couldn't count the number of fire-scorched pieces.
It wasn't enough.
More cannibals were coming for him.
Hangman emptied clip, after clip, after clip, after clip. Spewing hot M-16 lead, he watched skin tear, pop, and fold to his machine gun's power. Still more cannibals were approaching him. He was out of magazines. Hangman fell back. He pried sawed off shotguns, Uzis, and high-powered hand guns from teeth-mangled bodies and severed limbs. He fired wildly, trying to find a place to collect himself, and assess the battle zone.
Six pterodactyls picked up a jeep, carried it up high, and dropped it down with a thunderous explosion. Hangman dodged a spinning jeep bumper and a burning human spine simultaneously. A T-Rex was chewing up a jeep in its mouth when the gas tank exploded. T-Rex's head was set ablaze. The behemoth kept chomping down on metal and steel until its skin was downgraded to bone. Once its eyes melted in its head, the T-Rex tower finally toppled over dead.
; Binge, a watchtower worker, had a double sized mouth, and was devouring the cannibals, when three arrows pierced his throat. He doubled over in the throws of death, vomiting up his guts, and experiencing the seizure shits.
Seeker, a night security goon, shoved a double-barreled shotgun into the mouth of a bagaceratops. The dinosaur was the size of a medium dog. The whole body went up in a ball of blood. The crazy son-of-a-bitch didn't see the stegosaurus behind him swing its tail. Seeker was lashed by pure force, and the blow cut him in half. Seeker was only a pair of standing legs until a raptor took off with them.
Patch, Robin, Decker, and Scratch were gored on the horn of a triceratops. When the triceratops shook them off, the force was so powerful their bones shattered.
From the air, pieces of jet packs and mutilated remains kept crashing down. Hangman watched in morbid fascination at the legless jetpack man whose guts dangled like fat rope out his pulverized pelvis land in a ball of fire.
Hangman couldn't lie to himself, this was a disappointing show of force. He was naive to trust in men who didn't know real combat. These weren't soldiers; they were fallible men without real guts, balls, or spine.
Let them die in shame, Hangman kept thinking. Let them be shit out of a dinosaur's ass, and returned to the earth to be long forgotten.
Hangman sprinted behind the nearest jeep with these thoughts burdening him. He returned to the focus of battle and survival. A pair of raptors were munching down on Compass's neck to the point he was decapitated. Compass was another treasured member of his staff. There were no good men left.
Staying out of sight, Hangman crawled on the ground to hide underneath a mangled pile of half and quarter bodies. He quickly decided against that plan when he spotted the cannibal children noshing down on toes, playing tug-of-war with intestines, and sticking their fists into the wide-open maws of decapitated heads. He crawled elsewhere, trying to find a safe spot, and failing.