Max Payne vs Dragon (Part 1)
The streets of New York were bare and barren, unlike they ever were before. Wind and rain raged and blew through the nightís violent torment. Max Payne, cold and vicious, sauntered through the streets clutching at his leather jacket, sheltering himself from the everlasting storm, the Berettas in his gun brace ready to fire at a whimís notice. What vicious vendetta would he enact out that damned night, he wondered to himself. Another night of excessive drinking, another round of bullets fired into sweaty sacks of Italian skin in Chinatown. Like a poem, it rhymes.
Flying through the air like a hawk, flew a giant, black dragon, easily the size of a small building. Maxís jaw almost fell to the ground as the great beast landed a block away. It was as dark and as menacing as the night, the beast starring him down with its cold, psychotic eyes and boomed a deafening roar. Vicious Max struggled to find the right words to summarize the bizarre circumstances he had wandered into as he witnessed the gigantic beast flip two cars onto their side as the brute barrelled down the road.
Crash! Max stumbled and fell onto his backside as the dragon landed like a hurricane in front of him. His vision went blurry. Time slowed to a standstill as he squinted in front of him, witnessing the dragon lift upwards and roar. The world sped up in one moment as he saw flames out of the beastís destructive jaws.
Quickly, he took a leap of faith and jumped through the air, dodging the fire that was parting the rain just in the nick of time. The fire roared and almost parted the rain with its great heat; Maxís back heating up like a furnace after experiencing the earlier cold. As he flew through the air, he turned, drew his Berettas and fired in violent, rapid sensation, his teeth gritted at the fiery dragon. In a bizarre way, it was like he was back in his comfort zone when he was firing through mid-air, two fire-arms held firmly in his outstretched arms. He could only find happiness through the destruction of those in his path, the only purpose of his dark, pointless existence. The happiness was short lived, as he found the bulletís ricochet off the dragonís tough, ragged scales. Rain still pouring on his face, Max leapt up to his feet and reloaded frantically, the clips almost slipping out of his shaking hands. The tranquil fury that normally fuelled his soul had subsided into pure terror.
Maxís feet pounded the ground hard as his jog increased to a desperate sprint away from the impending terror. In an uncharacteristically pitiful display, he attempted firing more shots at the incoming beast. The creature shook them off like it was nothing. Max, feeling another wave of flames on his back, took another leap of faith and diving through the air, narrowly but neatly avoiding the inferno with seconds.
The dragonís furious rage wasnít just targeted at the scrambling man. Trees, cars, buses, roadworks; all were left trampled and crushed under its terrifying feet like miniatures. Fires were started in nearby buildings but no fire service was called during the horrendous storm.
Max didnít know how to get out of this impossible nightmare.
Also look out for my upcoming stories, Robocop vs Stealth Tank, John Marston vs Giant Octopus and, my favourite; Giant Metal Michael vs Aqua Stealth Franklin.
Edited by AceRay, 08 March 2013 - 07:29 AM.