I saw the fantastic thread that tom made regarding a writing competition about madness. I couldn't help but write something.

I've always wanted to try and do my own stories; and I guess this is a place to start. I have always been a massive fan of fantasy books and I hope that pays off in my writing.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

My piece:

Cold steel embraced hanks hand, his thumb hugging the trigger.

The gun was pointed directly in the centre of the bastards head. The once pristine sheriff's hat was tossed onto the ground beside him. Here it finally ended.

The sheriff's sweaty hand gripped a single red button, deadlocked.

"You don't want this hank, we both know that if I'm dead you are too."

He was probably right, what he didn't know is that hank didn't give a shit.

The bullet ripped itself from the barrel of the gun, forcing time to slowly come to a stop; memories of abuse by this man's hand fled from his mind, captivating the one glorious moment. The bullet pulled forward his lifeless head and pinned it against the wall, blood spurting up from his neck. Hanks pleasure was short-lived. A single thud of bone on wood was all the time hank had to react before the floor was catapulted from his feet.

A massive bloodied green fist grabbed him by the torso and threw him onto the floor. His gun skid out from under his hand just in time for it to be flipped from reach by a bolt of electricity, opening a toothless grin from the monster that had attacked, it's blood red eyes bore down unto him, bringing a wave of harsh terror through his brain.

Luckily, hank always had a backup plan.

Two carefully concealed miniature shotguns whipped out from his jacket; blasting quadruple explosive shells deep into the monstrous beings skin, it bellowed for seconds before another round was emptied mercilessly into its throat.

Unfortunately it was merely a distraction from the real demon of this hellhole.
As the corpse fell, a clown seemingly popped into existence. Blue honeycombs of hair made their way up the side of his head, and a static smile was printed onto its face. It skipped towards him.
But he knew this was no innocent.

A wooden shaft slid out from its hand, melding its blood and bone into the object that would cause suffering beyond comprehension.

"YOU DARE".

Animalistic rage and contempt blasted across its voice in waves.

The cold fear that wrapped hanks brain sharpened, smouldering into a burning hatred for this unwanted child of nature. He reached for the golden lettered katana from his back; light from another source beamed up from the scabbard, temporarily blinding all whom looked upon it.

Hank drew it slowly.

The enemies circled each other, meeting eye to eye; soul to soul. A snarl escaped hanks twisted lips.

Steel met wood as they crashed together, but hank was faster. Years of trade as a mercenary had taught him a single lesson.

Kill him fast.

His blade swept upwards past the clowns pathetic guard, ripping up across his face and silencing the cheerful illusion with a wave of blood. An unfathomably gloved hand rose up above the mutilated face, and dropped. Pain and grief fled from his body as the clowns body dropped to the floor.
At least it was smiling too.

But this was not the end, and it never would be. The entire terrain began to morph, already dark ground fading to a black sheen, clouds flooding the sky and lightning skittering on the edge of his vision. One single enmity was about to make its arrival.

A thunderclap boomed across the air, an unknown power encompassing hank.

He felt it rage through him like a torrent of electricity, his hands shook violently and blood coursed throughout his body; forcing veins to bulge along his neck and forehead. He rose silently into the air; his mind convulsing ceaselessly against the sides of his skull. As suddenly as the power began, it blinked out of existence. The almighty strength fell down under him, leaving his body week and feeble.

A rip in the fabric of existence opened. A man stepped forward from it, boot pressing down onto the clown's face, purple blood staining his obsidian black boots. A single meeting of eyes before flames of midnight roared up and down his body.

"You thought YOU could stop ME?"

Hank pushed his palms onto the earth. One last attempt at defiance. Splintered wood smashed into his face, crumpling bone and flesh alike.

Spit splattered across his face before a voice echoed through his shattered mind.
"That will never happen."

Existence defying pain coursed through his body, mind and body fading to darkness under its relentless assault; and hanks life shook itself into darkness.

Here it finally ended.