Chopper Cries の小説・ストーリー

I clenched the chip in my fist and shut my eyes, every nerve ending igniting with raw terror. Then— Impact. The chopper struck the sand with a bone-rattling crash. Metal groaned and twisted, glass shattered, and fire licked at the edges of my vision. We skidded across the dunes like a wounded beast, finally grinding to a halt with a guttural roar. For a moment, there was only the sound of flames crackling and the hiss of ruptured hydraulics. Then, pain. White-hot, slicing through my ribs, my shoulder, my side. I gasped, coughing on smoke, trying to move—trying to understand if I was still alive or just suspended between worlds.

Not even I could muster enough strength to reach that far. Maybe if I ran along the length of the helipad and then jumped, I could somehow reach it. Below, I could see the wolves scattering away as the machine gun fired on them. I backed myself up as far as I could. Alice was there, wrestling with a soldier. Had she … taken his head off? Bigger fish, Brandon. Bigger Fish. My muscles began aching as I sped at full speed and lunged upward. I closed my eyes as I flew into a trajectory straight at the chopper. I took a deep breath mid-air and then summoned the strength from the full moon above me, stretching my body to its extreme.

His eyes were glassy, his jaw tight. And then, I saw it. His eyes were wet. Was he crying? That couldn’t be right. Why would he cry? What right did he have to cry? Before I could process it, a voice screamed from somewhere nearby. “Someone’s on the roof! She’s going to jump!” Dolly and I whipped around. Up on the roof of the music hall, in her ruined gown, stood Chloe. “Damn it!” I broke into a run. Dolly grabbed my wrist. “Don’t! She’s bluffing; she’s just trying to scare people!”

The twin engines of the stealth chopper whined softly as it descended beyond the tree line, slicing through the early morning mist like a blade through gauze. Fiona sat strapped in, her fingers curled tightly around the straps across her chest, eyes trained on the satellite feed on the mounted screen in front of her.

The wind was howling, whipping the smoke into a blinding cyclone. I saw the chopper. A sleek, high end executive bird, its rotors already spinning. Elio was there, clutching a silver briefcase, screaming orders at a pilot I didn't recognize. “Elio!” I roared over the sound of the rotors. He spun around, the light of the fire reflecting in his wide, manic eyes. He looked at me like I was a ghost. “How?” he shrieked. “You should be at the bottom of the bay!”

She doesn't give up, she keeps calling "Mum" "Mum, please answer me" "Shut up" Charles say, passing his fingers through his hair. She doesn't listen to him, she keeps yelling "Mum, I'm begging you answer me" "I said shut the fuck up" he slaps her sharply across the face. Tears filled her blue eyes, as she look up from the floor. Staring straight into the cold eyes of her beloved He sighs heavily, kneeling in front of her and cupping her face.

He followed his movements with the corners of his eye and found him settling on a posh chair with his legs crossed. Marco felt a wave of jealousy wash over him when a set of sluttish ladies approached him and flirted shamelessly, their bold advances catching him off guard. “Not my circus, not my monkey,” He muttered through gnashed teeth as he slammed his whiskey on the table, the sounds echoing against the silence of his own thoughts. As he took more shots, he could feel the burn travel from his throat to his stomach, igniting the simmering frustration inside him. Marco's mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions. Despite his father’s deep-seated rejection and hatred of him for being gay, h

Mason pushed some bottons and the chopper's blade began to spin like a tornado. Soon we were off the pad and Mason navigated the chopper like a fucking pro. I didn't know he could fly a chopper. It dawned on me that there were so many other things I hadn't known yet about Mason and my mind was intrigued to know. “I had strict lessons on how to fly all kinds of planes so I can.” He replied once we were many feet in the air and among the clouds and twinkling stars.

“Please, “ he pleaded. .Muffled voices surrounded her.A hand slapped her face, capturing her attention, what was left of it. She thought she saw Marcu, looming over her, touching her face. “Hang on, brave little girl,” she thought she heard him say. “There’s no time,we’ve got to get her to the chopper,” she thought she could hear Marcu’s panicked voice. Barely conscious, she felt herself being lifted by strong arms.She must be dreaming, her hazed brain thought, for she felt herself flying. The blades of the chopper whoosed, landing hot in the middle of the road. Drago had taken a big chance, flying her down. He could only hope no one saw before he cloaked himself.

Rain lashes inside, soaking the concrete. I burst out into the storm. The wind hits me, roaring in my ears. The rain is coming down in sheets, reducing visibility to zero. But I don't need to see. I can smell them. Wet dog. Fear. And the sweet, milky scent of a newborn. "Chopper is waving off!" one of the mercenaries screams over the wind. He’s standing near the edge of the helipad, shielding his eyes against the spotlight of a helicopter hovering precariously in the turbulence.