Zak bolted up-right on his bed. His face, hair and body drenched in cold sweat. He looked down to see his hunting rifle resting on the bedside where he had laid it before falling asleep. His mind was in a flurry from the nightmare. Zak now realized he was breathing in rapid gasps. He held his face in his hands doing what he could to relax himself.
Zak reached for his pistol holstered at his side by a makeshift leather strap. Pulling it out he flipped the safety off and tapped the barrel of the gun on his temple with a steady rhythm. "Just do it Zak." He spoke to himself in a raspy and low tone. He let his arm drop to his side. Zak let out a soft sigh. He propped himself up to his feet. Zak's legs nearly gave out on him sending him crashing into a nearby table, scattering all of its contents on the floor. Among the newly created mess he sifted through the pile to find a bag full of mint leaves.
By the time Zak reached the stove he felt slightly better but still dampened by perspiration. The stove in the small 7 by 7 kitchen was fueled by a gas tank Zak managed to jury-rig. The stove gave off a few clicks before a flame fluttered within the eye. Zak set a tea pot filled with water on the flame. He made his way back to his room skimming his hand along the chipping flowered wallpaper. The house had obviously been occupied by an elderly person or couple before Zak had arrived. The furniture took on an 80's style and the two rooms are small and lined with tan walls and squeaky wooden floors. Zak scooped up his rifle and returned back to the kitchen to the stove. The teapot was now screaming.
(Sorry for the long post >.< let me know if you want me to shorten my posts a bit.)
Zak reached for his pistol holstered at his side by a makeshift leather strap. Pulling it out he flipped the safety off and tapped the barrel of the gun on his temple with a steady rhythm. "Just do it Zak." He spoke to himself in a raspy and low tone. He let his arm drop to his side. Zak let out a soft sigh. He propped himself up to his feet. Zak's legs nearly gave out on him sending him crashing into a nearby table, scattering all of its contents on the floor. Among the newly created mess he sifted through the pile to find a bag full of mint leaves.
By the time Zak reached the stove he felt slightly better but still dampened by perspiration. The stove in the small 7 by 7 kitchen was fueled by a gas tank Zak managed to jury-rig. The stove gave off a few clicks before a flame fluttered within the eye. Zak set a tea pot filled with water on the flame. He made his way back to his room skimming his hand along the chipping flowered wallpaper. The house had obviously been occupied by an elderly person or couple before Zak had arrived. The furniture took on an 80's style and the two rooms are small and lined with tan walls and squeaky wooden floors. Zak scooped up his rifle and returned back to the kitchen to the stove. The teapot was now screaming.
(Sorry for the long post >.< let me know if you want me to shorten my posts a bit.)