Super Crate Box is an action packed, hiscore themed arena shooter created by Dutch indie studio Vlambeer. Reminiscent of arcade classics, the aim of the game is simply to score high, whilst shooting up hordes of enemies with a wide range of weaponry. There is a twist on the old formula however- rather than scoring for killing enemies, you score for picking up new weapons.
This completely turns traditional arena shooter tactics on their head. Rather than finding a weapon you enjoy and playing with that, the game revolves around changing weapon as often as possible. This brilliant mechanic keeps the gameplay feeling fresh and dynamic throughout, as you are required to continuously adapt your strategy in order to succeed.
The game features three well balanced arenas, and a number of gameplay modes to unlock and enjoy. The weapon range is rather broad, ranging from revolvers to minguns, to disc launchers to katanas to laser rifles. Never does the game become dull, and it has plenty of that ‘One More Go’ quality so many games strive to achieve. Furthering the variety and dynamic sense of the gameplay are frequent unlockables, unlocked at certain volumes of crates collected, adding new weaponry to the roster as well as cool player outfits to enjoy.
In addition to excellent design of gameplay, the game features charming pixel art, stylishly simple and very fitting for the simple but deep nature of the game. Add to that a killer chiptune soundtrack by Phlogiston to get you pumped throughout and everything fits together rather perfectly.
I can’t really think of any negatives in regards to Super Crate Box. One thing I will say is that it’s damn hard, but in a good way. Never do you really feel cheated on death, the fast paced nature of the game and it’s frantic action make death more of a ‘doh’ than ‘Damn!’ scenario, and the learning curve is pretty solid- sculpted by the rate of unlockables and slowly increasing depth of options available.
I’d recommend Super Crate Box to basically anybody who likes fun, action games that don’t take things seriously. It’s a blast, playable in short bursts but capable of stealing away hours if you’re not careful.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to give it one more go…
“Hell sure seems beautiful from here,” thought Albert lazily as he gazed out over the infested ocean at a burning red neon sunset. Three days in a row it’d been so clear out there, a rare occurrence at any time, but Albert could see the red cloud gathering. It’d rain blood tomorrow, but he was used to the unusual weather that this area had been experiencing over the past few years. He’d been travelling and learning about the world in an effort to further his knowledge of the demons. For a few months though he’d been living by the sea, he liked the relative tranquillity compared to further inland. There was far less demon activity here, they had no use for the sea now, having long passed through it on their journey to Centrina, which was now the main continent on Earth. During his studies Albert had learned that the demons broke through into this world though eastern America, causing half the Continent to disintegrate into the sea, causing the Devil Chain islands. They then moved east to Europe, which due to the absence of America had united with several countries in Africa and Asia to make Centrina in an effort to defend themselves. It didn’t work very well, people weren’t prepared for the onslaught to come, the world was ruined over the past few years.
Albert didn’t care about that anymore though, he was primarily interested in furthering his studies of demons, he’d been studying them for six years now and wasn’t about to stop just because they’d invaded. It was all the better for him, they were truly a fascinating race. And such beautiful landscapes, demaforming was a mind-bending concept. Not that anyone back in the Demon Hunter army seemed to share the same passion as he did, he remembered being thrown out for reckless use of equipment during studies.
‘Ungrateful bastards,’ he muttered, sitting up. He’d done so much for them, he’d even designed their pulse weaponry. Thrown out of the army R+D for trying to capture a demon, all he was doing was trying to learn more so he could help them. People didn’t seem to appreciate his work, no one even understood pulse weaponry, some fools thought that they actually fired rounds that moved at the speed of light, sheer ignorance in his view. He cared no longer about helping them, he was still feeling bitter after all this time away. He’d no desire to return to human society. An ambitious scientist obviously wasn’t welcome anymore.
He stood up, turned away from the ocean to face a dying forest and started to wander back to his makeshift home, a hut he had erected recently. Living in the wild was a relaxing yet intriguing change from his previous life in the city, not that anything was the same as it used to be anymore. He’d taken a few pulse guns when he left and had no difficulty in using them to support his current lifestyle. After all, he’d invented them and knew full well that pulse guns had renewable energy sources, if you heated a cell over a number of days it’s ammo would replenish. It made him proud. Upon his return to his home, he sat at his folding table and rummaged through his notes. He’d recorded everything he’d seen on his travels around Centrina, the Deadmist Canyon, The Spiral, the Red Sands, everything he’d seen over the past eighteen months. It was remarkable what had happened to the world since the demon invasion. It seemed, he theorized, that the demon world was trying to merge with Earth. Cataclysma, he called the demon world, and the bizarre formations around Centrina all indicated that Cataclysma and Earth were becoming one. He longed to find a way to get to Cataclysma, such a place would be full of new discoveries just waiting to be made.
He jotted down a few notes : ”Beautiful sunset over the red ocean, the winds will bring another blood rain tomorrow though. Best stay in.” Having done that, he decided that it was time for some sleep, he closed the door to his hut and climbed into his sleeping bag, closing his eyes.
Albert woke in the morning to the sound of pouring rain. He got up and peered out through a tear in the side of the hut.
“I knew it,” he said, it was raining blood. Just as he’d suspected. He wandered over and sat down at his makeshift desk to look at his notes.
They were gone.
“The hell!?” exclaimed Albert. “What is this?” He peered underneath his table to see if they’d blown off in the night but there was nothing there. When he rose back up again he was greatly surprised to see a set of clearly demonic runes burning into the side of his hut.
“Argh! What is all this about?” he said to himself, grabbing his pulse gun from under his bag.
The runes had burned themselves right through now, so he could see through the gaps they had made. Suddenly, area within them disintegrated and Albert could see out though the hole to the dying forest outside. It seemed to have stopped raining but he could still hear it pounding down around him. He cautiously leaned out through the hole and saw that it was still raining apart from in the part leading away from the hole. Not one to miss an opportunity for discovery, Albert grabbed his bag which contained a few basic supplies and shoved his pulse gun in before climbing out through the hole in the side of his hut.
He could now see that he was inside some sort of invisible energy field, the rain above was evaporating before it hit him. It almost seemed as if it was telling him where to go. He started to wander along the dry trail, taking care not to step out into the red rain. He wouldn’t be hard for demons to find if he did. The path he was walking seemed to stretch and twist for ages, winding it’s way around the trees, sometimes he even wondered if he’d gone anywhere.
After what seemed like hours, Albert decided he’d had enough. No matter how interested he was, he wasn’t going to walk what seemed to be an endless path. For all he knew, it could be an illusion and he could be just wasting his time. He was just turning around when he realised that something was happening on the stretch of path he had just walked down. Turning right round, he saw that something was happening to the area where the rain wasn’t falling.
It was melting.
“Aww hell,” said Albert to himself, realising this, and noticing that the melting area was moving closer to him. Turning around and breaking into a run, he made an effort to escape it, whatever it was. Not daring to turn around, he frantically leapt across branches on the ground before realising he may want to just jump to the side. Immediately carrying out his latest idea, he dove to his right and rolled over into a tree. Seeing the ground where it wasn’t raining melting away, he was rather shaken to say the least. And now he was covered in blood. Disgusting.
Well, at least he was safe from whatever that could have been. His day sure was getting weird. Unfortunately, that wasn’t where it ended, as it immediately ceased raining blood and began hailing teeth. This couldn’t be real, nothing like this had ever happened before, he should know, having been all around the continent. Shaking his head, he decided he’d best head back to his hut.
Having walked now for about five hours, Albert was exhausted. He was finally back to his tent, as far as he cared now all he wanted to do was sleep. He’d had enough weirdness for the day and hadn’t even any interest in writing down his experiences. Stepping back into his hut, he didn’t even notice the absence of his study equipment before lying down and falling straight to sleep.
Almost immediately, at least a far as he could tell, he woke up again. Something was wrong, very wrong. He got up and looked around the room. His equipment was missing, all that was here was his bed. Even his gun had been taken out of his belt, rendering him defenceless. He stepped outside for a look around, nothing seemed too different. The land was totally dry, as if it hadn’t rained for weeks, something he knew to be false. Or at least, he thought he did, what if he’d simply dreamt it? Worrying about this proved to be a task that Albert wasn’t interested in, as he turned around to enter his hut again. He was an academic, he dealt with what he deemed real, not mental problems.
This showed itself to be quite a predicament though, as when he turned back, everything had returned to his hut. Something was definitely wrong here. He blinked, they were gone again. Too freaked out to simply ignore this, he turned and ran. He ran as fast as he could, no matter how much he wanted to rationalise the situation he couldn’t. He ran until his recent exhaustion caught up with him, stumbling and slamming into the ground. He didn’t know where he was or even how long he’d managed to run for. Forcing himself to get back up, he saw something very strange in front of him. It looked like a gate, but something wasn’t right, there were no walls, or anything beyond it, just a gate in the middle of nowhere.
It’s lack of features didn’t last long though, as just after he got to his feet it began to crackle with energy, that shown beyond it fading to black and a dense field of energy stretched between to two sides. It thickened, and started to gain colour until it almost looked as if there was something different entirely on the other side. Then something even stranger happened, something proceeded to stretch out of this strange thing.
Nothing could have prepared Dr. Albert Tang for what happened to him next. A tall humanoid figure stepped out of the void slightly blurred by the colourful mess behind it. When it had stepped closer he could see it in focus, it looked like a very tall man in a ragged red trench coat aside from the face which was clearly demonic in nature; dark grey skin, short red spikes instead of hair nail, like teeth. The eyes were the strangest though, they appeared to have been artificially modified and were like small telescopes, for want of a better word, which kept flexing in and out independent of each other. The thing began to talk.
‘Dr Tang,’ it began, in a rough voice. ‘We’ve been watching you for some time and know what happened to you. If you’d let us, we’ll take you where you can be appreciated and learn to your hearts content. We have a deal for you.’
Rather taken aback by this, not just the concept of highly intelligent demons but the fact they‘d been observing him, Albert thought for a moment. This was a demon, what he’d been learning to fight against for all these years. But his allies had forsaken him and he was alone, did such things matter anymore over the pursuit of greater knowledge? What could he accomplish by conversing with demons? He thought quietly about it for a few moments before replying.
‘Okay then, lets hear it.’
I awoke to the smell of blood. I also, strangely enough, awoke to the sight of blood. Not my blood. My friend’s. He had died saving me from that infernal creature. How I hate the demons. They just kill and slaughter the masses for no reason other than their own enjoyment. The creature’s body was on top of that of my friend Destrega. It had only one arm and no chest anymore but that thing still reeked of evil. Compared to that my wounds were minor, just a burn on my left arm. My weapons, Blitz Knuckles, were broken. As I stepped over Destrega’s body I asked myself why I felt no sadness, no regret at having lost a friend. I put it down to the aura of the place, seeping evil into everything that entered. I felt a chill run through me momentarily and decided to move on.
The surrounding area was made up of mostly burnt woodland and the demons base was set in the basin of a shallow crater. It was wrecked now as the mission I had been on was to destroy it. Apart from Destrega I had no idea what had happened to the rest of the team. They were nowhere to be seen and I feared the worst for them. The van was gone so either they escaped in it or were all killed before they had the chance. Either way I was alone.
Walking through the twisted forests surrounding the crater, I thought I noticed movements but it always turned out to be nothing. Once more I put it down to the horrible aura I was walking through. It was known that demons come from some sort of vile alternate dimension and that at gateways to this other dimension, some of the demonic energy would leak out and infuse itself into the surroundings, affecting perception and judgement in a very disturbing way. I couldn’t stand it, and broke into a run, desperate to get away from it.
I was getting more worried by the second, as the half glimpsed shapes seemed to be getting closer and my breathing got faster, I was starting to panic. Not even caring where I was going, I just ran and ran until I hit the earth with a thud. I turned around and saw that I had tripped on a root. Something seemed wrong though and turning back I saw a purple claw hurtling towards me. Acting on sheer reflex, I threw my self backwards and hit the floor again. I was able to get to my feet before I saw it coming towards my head again and I ducked instinctively before rolling to the side.
I could see it clearly now. It was a horrific sight to behold. Purple, around seven feet tall, with four long arms with large, ultra sharp bladed claws on each. It had blood on each claw and was wearing the flayed skins of its prey. What seems to pass for a face in demon terms was half buried into its shoulders, bearing its long thin teeth, its red eyes looking straight at me.
Stepping forward it brought two arms towards each other. I quickly jumped straight up over the crash of its impacting claws. Almost instantly I countered by shooting my right foot into its forehead, knocking it back a few feet. I then lunged forward for a follow up punch in the stomach but it was faster than I thought and dodged the blow leaving me momentarily off guard. It took its chance, grabbed my foot, and brought it upwards, slamming my face into the damp earth.
Cursing my carelessness, I moved to see what it was now doing. Like lightning, one of its claws flew forwards towards at my head. I was lucky in dodging it though and managed to then swing myself under the arm it was holding me with. Grabbing one of its four shoulders, I used my newfound advantage to bring it crashing down face first.
While it was trying to raise itself again, I took my chance to kick it in the stomach. Although this would have been rather dishonourable in most circumstances, I was more than sure it would have done the same to me. I therefore felt quite satisfied to hear a dull snapping sound at the moment of impact. I stepped back and saw a black liquid on my boot.
“How does it feel?” I shouted to it, quite aware it couldn’t understand. My anger at my loss was surfacing and I felt exhilarated by the damage I had inflicted. Again, I took a shot at it, and again I felt more satisfied. Once again, I went to kick it, but it had learned from experience and rolled over, sweeping my feet with a long arm. I landed flat on my back staring at the forest canopy. I staggered to my feet and saw how badly it was struggling to keep balance. Taking one more shot at it, I leapt forward and slammed my fist into its side. It fell down and I was about to deliver another kick to its head when it caved in and I was sprayed in blood.
I looked around me to find out what the hell had happened but there was no one to be seen. I carefully took another look and saw some movement in the trees.
“Who’s there?” I called.
“Wait a minute,” came as my reply.
Two camouflaged figures stepped forward from the bushes, one wielding a large rifle, and one with a dull green glowing axe. Both were sporting black combat suits with camo netting draped over them and biker masks. The one with the rifle clipped it to his belt and removed his mask. He was as tall as I was with long, platinum hair and a scar on his right cheek. He extended a hand and said “Nice work there.”
We walked through the forest for a while and I found out that they were part of the Thunderburst demon hunters as I was. They were on the way to where I had just come from to search for survivors. No one had returned to base yet. I felt saddened by this fact but at least the mission had been completed. That was not enough to compensate the loss of my whole team though and I had yet another reason to hate the demons.
Viktor, the hunter with the rifle, and Ax who had an axe, led me back to base through the forest. They told me how they too had lost loved ones to the demons and that they had only joined the army for vengeance. They left me at the base entrance and wished me good luck for the future. Looking down at the concrete bunker I was about to enter, feeling more like myself than before today, I thought something.
“I’d best get paid for this.”
I’m awake and my brain hurts. I look around me but it’s dark. I can hear water dripping and wherever I am it smells of damp and rot. I seem to be lying down but I feel dizzy and the darkness makes it hard to discern my orientation. As I attempt to move I feel unable, as if held by some invisible force- I certainly can’t feel any straps or restraints but in the back of my head it feels like somebody has been hitting me with a hammer for hours.
My skull starts to ache and tingling sensation starts all over my body. I feel like it’s becoming harder to breathe and my heart is pumping and my head is pounding and my mind is pulsing and something is happening to me.
As I walk through the park in the lazy summer sunlight that comes in the evening I can smell the recently mown grass and feel the soft ground beneath my bare feet. Never has a day been so glorious as this and as the brass band plays overlooking the picnic goers I feel like I could not be happier than I am now and then everything turns black.
I don’t know where I am and it feels like I’m falling. Everything hurts. This darkness terrifies me and I shake with fear and begin to cry, but no noise will comne out of my mouth and I cannot call for help.
A voice comes from the darkness telling me ‘everything’s okay’ and I kind of want to believe whoever it is because I don’t think I could take it if it wasn’t. In the endless black that seems to be around me all I can see is my own despair, nothing seems right and my throat feels as if it could burst from my need to scream out.
Then I’m underwater but it’s alright because I can still breathe and the blue ocean is mine for the taking. There seem to be no boundaries here, no walls or restraints or paralysis or control, just the endless wonders of the deep and the currents of the planet. I think I was upset a minute ago but perhaps my tears created this wonderful ocean, therefore perhaps my sadness has birthed something good and it wasn’t a bad feeling after all. I swim with all the effort I can muster and seem to be moving faster than anything else, the colours of the fish and plantlife blurring into a fantastic shimmering rainbow. I see a shark homing into bit me but I’m not afraid of it, I throw a punch with my powerful right arm and it explodes into a mass of stars and fairly lights and red ribbon which move independently of the water’s influence. I move up to the surface to look at the wonder of the sun but as my head reaches the surface something goes terribly wrong.
My body shakes and squirms, something is coming out of my stomach and I’m choking on it, the world is a nightmare. The world flips upside down and my vomit is pouring down onto the floor from out of my nose and mouth. I seem to be able to move without restraint now and as the room continues to barrel roll I struggle to my feet and look around, nothing but a faint amber glow in the distance. I walk forwards slowly, towards the light, shivering from both the ordeal I’ve been through and the bitter cold that now seems to stick to my apparently nude figure.
As I walk I feel the tugging in the back of my head, where I was in such pain forever ago and reach to find what could be causing it. A metallic attachment, some sort of cable, screws into my skull. As I pull further against it my brain feels like it’s going to be wrenched out of my head if I’m not careful. It’m desperate to escape and almost have a fit as I panic trying to think of a way to get out of wherever I might be. Shaking with anger, I turn and put the cable into my mouth, biting down on it in an attempt to perhaps sever it and myself from the attachment to this place.
As my teeth cut the cord my head fills with colour and sound and a million tiny dots the size of planets swirl in every direction as every sound known to man screeches through my eyes in one second and then the world all seems a bit more real than it was split seconds ago.
I run as fast as I can but I’m in bullet time and the amber light seems to be only getting further away or perhaps dimmer and as I can no longer control my need to escape I finally manage to scream and blood or some other useful substance sprays out of my mouth and I fall into oblivion.
I’m in a world where everybody is screaming with either ecstasy or terror and the light is brighter than the sun and my eyes feel like they’re burning away and I cannot close them to keep the light from flowing into my brain and gently toasting it. The truth, as some might call it, is slipping away and feels unimportant as I go blind from the situation and all I care about is nothing in particular and though the back of my head no longer hurts I have a feeling that something far more sinister is happening to me. I can move my body but it won’t listen to my abstract commands and I don’t want to live for one more second but perhaps everything will be okay if I just
stop
thinking
now
.
Behind the mask, just as he was in front of the mask, he was smiling. Today had been a good day. All of his tasks had been fulfilled and nothing had been left out. Alex Venom was pleased.
But his name wasn’t Alex Venom anymore. As far as he cared he no longer even had a name, just an image of himself and continuous lists of instructions. The orders never stopped coming. Ever.
As he stepped into his home in the decimated city whose name he could not remember, he placed his tools down. He stepped back outside to grab his latest victim by the hair and drag her in. A trail of blood was left outside his door, though it was hard to distinguish from the dried blood already covering the concrete.
He then put his gloved hand over her face and clutched it, before lifting her onto the table, by her head, with seemingly no effort. He took a moment to neaten the layout of the girl’s body, setting her into the most convenient position to work with. Preparation was always important with work like this. He knew that well.
The man, who was not Alex Venom, peered over her stiff corpse, looking into her wide eyes. He could see a reflection of his own face, or at least the mask that covered it. It was yellow, painted to show huge teeth and only had triangular holes for the eyes. It was strapped to his head with a pair of short belts. There was also noticeably a hole in the forehead of the mask, where he had been shot some time earlier. Superficial damage, nothing important.
His appearance was important to him, though he had no comprehension of why. The mask he wore had been what had led to his new name, assigned by the authorities, as few they were.
Murderface.
It was an accurate enough description, he was a murderer and that was the only face he seemed to have. There was far more to him than just a mask though.
Murderface stood straight again, having finished peering into her grey, dead eyes. It was a sunny day, and he walked over to the window and opened the curtains. Usually he disliked the sunlight but he needed all the illumination he could get to do his work.
The sun made clear his figure and its characteristics. He was a tall man, probably over six feet, with long matted hair that seemed to have a homicidal thirst all of its own. He wore a bloody vest, with a few holes, made by bullets passing through. On his lower torso he wore tough work trousers and black boots, which appeared to be of military origin. Every inch of him seemed to have some blood on it, none of which was his own.
He turned from the window and paced over to the table. This was where he conducted all his work, a metal breakfast-bar style table, caked with blood and bodily fluids. The girl, who looked around 18, was lying dead on it. Ready for him to begin.
He turned to face the opposing wall and surveyed his tool rack. He thought for a few moments and came to a decision. Today, he would use the hacksaw, hand drill and hammer and nails. No need for power tools, manual equipment was much more rewarding. He calmly removed each tool from the wall and set them down on a small trolley, which he then wheeled over to the table.
First things first, he made sure that his equipment was up to scratch. He took the hacksaw in his right hand and put the blade across his left wrist, then began to saw. It was not a pretty sight, though the same could be said for his entire living quarters. He got about half an inch in, then pulled it out, coated in his blood. It wasn’t just on the saw, it was pouring all over the floor, though it would soon stop. It always did.
With the saw ready, he picked up the hammer and a nail, and steadied the nail on top of the girl’s hand. With one movement he smashed the nail through her previously perfect hand and into the table. He then proceeded to do the same with her other hand, fixing it to the surface. He put the hammer down and picked up the hand drill.
He went over the instructions in his head one more time. This was what he needed to do. Murderface had never understood why he had to do all of these things, he simply had to. Even when he was Alex Venom, he had no choice in the matter; he simply enjoyed them less back then. He could not ignore the instructions.
He positioned himself so that he was at the head of the table, and therefore the head of the girl. The instructions were quite clear on this bit. He took the hand drill and positioned the drill bit in the centre of her forehead, pressing down slightly to steady it against her pale skin. He gripped the handle with his right hand and turned, allowing the drill to penetrate her flesh, break through her skull and enter the brain, where it swiftly turned the grey matter it contacted into grey mush.
When the drill had penetrated as far as it possibly could, he pulled it back out, dripping disgusting red mush all over her face, lumps of it covering her eyes. A little mess wouldn’t detract from the instructions, so he allowed himself to be a little careless.
Nine times he had performed this particular set of instructions, using nine different people. The people themselves didn’t matter, simply what was done to them. He had wondered why before, but he stopped caring after the third. He found that following his orders was actually very enjoyable and that he rather liked murdering people and performing bizarre rituals with their recently deceased bodies. Not caring about why made it a lot easier to get on with and have fun.
He put the drill down beside the hammer and reached out and grabbed the hacksaw. This was supposed to be the final part of the ritual. He always felt a little disappointed towards the end, but was forever eager to go and kill more people to satisfy his needs, and the needs of the instructions. He surveyed the girl’s body. If there had been any doubt as to her mortality, it was certainly confirmed now. Drilling into somebody’s head isn’t something that people survive. Well, he might survive it, but he couldn’t understand why.
He shuffled to the bottom end of the table and glanced at the young girl’s feet. If he’d have had any feelings on the matter any more, he would have seen that they were about average size and well formed, like the rest of her. Though he never consciously noticed it, he only ever seemed to murder pretty girls. The kind of girls he’d liked in the past. Sexy girls. He was seemingly oblivious to this pattern though, and placed the hacksaw blade on her ankle.
Taking a few breaths to steady himself, as he always enjoyed this part, he began to move the blade back and forth. Back and forth, releasing blood, penetrating the skin, working its way in and through. It made him feel good, and he was always a little dizzy when finished, as if in a state of euphoria. He felt the blade contact bone and pushed down harder and worked the saw faster, forcing through the bone and back into flesh. After about a solid minute of sawing, the foot was off, and blood was leaking all over the table.
Now that this one was done, he moved himself around to the other side of the table and began the action again, the blade sticking slightly. This only served to lengthen his pleasure in the work, and he continued tearing through her flesh with the same level of energy as before. The blade burst through her ankle in just over a minute and a half, actually snapping with the force he put into it. Blood spattered all over his hand and arm, and seeped out onto the work surface.
Her feet were now fully removed, and now he was to move on to her arms. He didn’t enjoy the arms so much, they were thinner and too easy to cut off, but at least they provided a moments satisfaction. He always questioned why he had to nail the hands down when he was just going to take them off, this always made it more awkward because he had to remove the nails when he had finished. There was surely some reasoning to it though, or else it wouldn’t be in the instructions. His orders wouldn’t tell him to do something for no reason now, would they?
Murderface decided that he wasn’t going to work it out, just like he hadn’t every other time. He also realised that his hacksaw was broken, and he needed something else to cut her hands off with. He hadn’t planned on using any power tools today, but he would just have to now.
He walked over to the door of his house, beside which there stood a small desk. The desk was just the right size to seat a pair of chainsaws, and that is exactly what it did. He picked up one of them; it had ‘FUCK OFF’ scrawled on the side in some poor bastard’s blood. He walked back over to his table and revved up the saw, feeling the vibration of it shaking his arm. This was his favourite tool; it had teeth.
He raised the chainsaw over his head and slowly brought it down into her arm, tearing into her hip slightly. This tool was very messy, and he was showered in blood for the short time the blades were in her flesh. It also tended to rip little chunks out and throw them all around the room, though he had long since stopped caring about the state of his home. The entire place was covered in blood, dirt and rotting flesh, a little more wouldn’t hurt.
Rather than move around the table, Murderface decided this time to simply reach over and saw through from the overhead. He stood up and lifted the saw, before lowering it at an appropriate angle to saw through her arm and cut a large gash out of the table. The table wasn’t relevant though, he could get those anywhere. Girls like this weren’t so common.
The ritual essentially over, he dropped his saw on the other side of the table and let it rev itself out; fuel wasn’t hard to come across either. He took a step back to examine his work and was very pleased. He smiled again, as he’d been doing a lot today. The beauty had been completely removed from her hands and feet, and her brain had been pretty much blended. Exactly as the instructions demanded.
There was one last thing left to do though, and he picked her up, slinging her limp corpse over his shoulder, revealing to the world the large gash in her upper back that had caused her death. She had quickly gone into shock after receiving the wound and died in minutes. Murderface held no interest in drawing out their deaths, he wasn’t a sadist. He simply didn’t care how long it took as long as they died. He required only their bodies.
He carried her out of the door and took her to the house next to his. This was where he stored all of the bodies, and he kept the windows open and the blinds shut to keep the sun out and the air in. These bodies needed to last. Through some luck this was one of the few areas that still held electrical power; he had an array of fans running non-stop to keep them cool.
Kicking the door open, he shuffled into the building with her. There were nine others like her here, not all girls though, each missing their hands and feet and with a hole in the head. Some were lying on the floor, a couple slumped on chairs, one of them was even hooked to the wall. He’d had no instructions on how to place them, just to keep them as fresh as possible. He dropped her on a sofa and walked back out of the building, his work for the day completed. He’d been given in the past another set of instructions, when he reached twenty-four he would have to combine them together somehow, though he would work that out when the time came. For now he would occupy himself simply by finding them.
He returned to his home and slumped into a damp sofa. He was tired, he’d had to chase her around earlier to kill her and then drag her home. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift into a dreamless sleep. Tomorrow he would wake and repeat the actions of this day again, as he had been doing for the past three months on these instructions. Every day was the same; scavenge, hunt, kill, dismember; and he would continue to be a slave to the instructions until they stopped coming.
If they ever did stop.
Hey look it’s the first short story I ever wrote, when I was about 14. Check it out!
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We were fast approaching the demon’s base in the outer zone and were performing the final check of our guns. The van we were in was a tight fit for the seven of us. We were group D13 of the Thunderburst Demon Hunter army. We were some of the best and last of the army. Most of us were wiped out at the start of the war in 2012 simply because we weren’t ready yet. Now, in 2014, the earth’s human population had been cut to a third. We were a group of seven, cramped in the back of this old van. Firstly there was Lance, our guns expert and a great sniper. He supplied all our pulse guns and ammo. Normal guns don’t work on demons as they can either phase through bullets or just dodge them. Pulse ammo travels at the speed of light so they can’t be dodged and phasing won’t work.
Next was Destrega, demolitions. He was a really big guy and possibly the reason we were so cramped in this van. Not the sharpest knife in the draw, but he certainly knew how to blow things up.
Then there was Blitz, our hand to hand combat expert. He was a martial arts master, one of the few people in the world who could fight a demon in hand to hand. He used a weapon called “Blitz Knuckles” which he created himself. These meant that that every time he threw a punch, it would create a massive blast in front of him to blast the demons.
On the other side of the van were Shred and Soulus. Shred was a ninja, master of blades and stealth. He had incredible skills such as extreme jumps and amazing running speed. I was sure that I had seen him phase and teleport before but he generally kept quiet and wouldn’t tell anybody.
Sat next to me was Soulus, the group’s telepath. He was blind but you wouldn’t know it by looking at him. He was able to go around like a normal person but we didn’t have a clue how. Telepaths were vital to teams because demons generate a strange energy that makes other communications impossible. This meant that Soulus was the only one who could contact our base from here.
Last in the back was me, Arc, elemental expert with ten years experience. Almost enough to be a master. I was also the youngest of the group, at 26. Our leader Kail was sitting in the front with our driver. We didn’t know of his abilities but knew he was strong enough to survive alone. This was because he was always first in after giving us our objectives and we didn’t see him until the mission was completed.
As we got closer to our target, we could see the shimmering purple aura. It always worried us when we drove through it. It felt and looked like pure evil and it always sent a cold chill down my spine. We had to be careful driving through it because it wasn’t safe to be in the denser areas for reasons best not thought about.
As we got through the main aura we could see the base. It was an old power plant which the demon’s obviously thought was a good place to stay. It was barely recognisable now that those freaks had been there though. Chimneys twisted and spiralled around each other and the walls were distorted as if looked at through a kaleidoscope. It was like some kind of bad dream but you couldn’t wake up.
As the van came to a halt Kail gave us our objectives. Lance and I were to wait outside until contacted by Soulus to move in. Kail and Soulus were going to search for the demonic artefacts which we were here for. Blitz and Destrega were going to search for demons around the area while Shred went in to scout for hostiles.
We split and Lance and I waited at the van for ten minutes. It all seemed pretty calm and that the mission was going well when we were contacted by Soulus. He had been ambushed and needed help urgently. Lance and I grabbed our guns and charged straight into the plant. After franticly running around the twisting corridors we found Kail attempting to fight off two demons at once. They were huge, at least twice as tall as Destrega and that’s pretty big. About twelve feet tall probably. They were totally disgusting and looked even worse than normal. They had grey skin and pulsing black holes for eyes. Their teeth were jagged and bloodstained, and they had huge blade like spines emerging from their backs. They had claws and feet which were dramatically oversized with massive talon like things for fingers and toes. Their faces, if they could be called faces, were wearing an expression of sheer hatred and evil. They weren’t going to be beaten easily.
“Arc, Lance, hurry up and shoot one of them. I can handle one on my own,” shouted Kail as he blocked a swing from the demon he was fighting. We took notice and opened fire on the one that wasn’t fighting. My pulse pistols and Lance’s pulse rifle created a huge wave of energy that warped the air and made it hard to see. When we had to reload, the room returned to normal and the demon was nowhere to be seen.
“Where the hell is it?” muttered Lance as he reached into his bag to get some more ammo. I looked around and noticed that Kail was still fighting the other demon. I also noticed that Kail was actually wielding a huge Hellblade, a powerful demon weapon. He seemed to be struggling to control the weapon as he blocked smash after powerful smash from the demon. The blade was becoming covered in the demon’s blood and was starting to glow.
“Uh, Arc. Where’s Soulus,” whispered Lance and I realised that he was nowhere to be seen. He should have been with Kail so where was he. As I stepped over to Lance to get some more ammo, I heard a muffled noise above me. I looked up and saw the top half of Soulus impaled on the spiked ceiling, his blood soaked corpse shaking.
“Oh, crap,” I thought as I realised that we now had no telepath and had no way to contact the rest of our team. There was no time to worry though as the second demon burst through the wall to my right. I went to shoot it but realised I had no ammo. Lance was blasting it with all he had as it approached him but to no effect. He was panicking and failing to hit it. It grabbed him, its huge claw reaching right around his stomach. He knew that there was no way to attack it now and he was doomed. Then it swung around with its other claw and Lance knew no more.
I was furious. It had killed two of my team and it wasn’t going to get another. “Eat icicles you freak!” I screamed and fired a barrage of frozen blades from my hands. They hit it right in the chest but I knew that wasn’t enough to kill it. I had no way to finish it and had no ideas on how to win. It was just recovering and I was sure I was done for when something strange happened. There was a splatter of blood and the demon slid in half with a look of total confusion on its pathetic excuse for a face. It was Shred, and just in time too. “Come on!” he shouted. “We have to go now”.
“But what about Kail?” I shouted.
“He probably won’t make it. That Hellblade is a vampire type and will probably drain all his energy soon”
“We have to help him though”
“It’s already too late for him. We have to get ourselves out before it’s too late for us as well.”
I was silent. I just couldn’t understand how we could have lost Kail, Lance and Soulus all at once. It was unbelievable. We were moving amazingly fast and Shred was pulling me by my arm. I wondered what happened to Blitz and Destrega but decided not to think about it.
There was a huge explosion and the whole area shook. It must have been Destrega. It wasn’t a good thing though and the already distorted corridors were beginning to fall apart. Shred started to run even faster and the whole place was a blur. I could see the end of the corridor. We were getting closer and were almost out when the door started to collapse. It was just about to be blocked off when everything froze. The dust in the air, the falling rocks, everything just stopped. There was no time to think about it though and Shred dragged me out the exit before everything started moving again and the place was sealed up. When I finally had time to catch my breath I saw the bodies of Blitz and Destrega lying on the floor not far from me. They were soaked in blood and there was a dead demon next to Destrega. I couldn’t believe it. The group had been all but annihilated in this one mission.
I didn’t want to think about it. Shred and I silently got in our banged up old van and left. It was a miracle that our driver was alright but was the only good thing that had happened today. We drove off into the dark aura and prayed for a safe journey home.
It lay in wait in the shadows surrounding the concrete maze of structures it called its home. As the day went on it would stay still, silent, an observer in this world. As the light cast different shapes off of the grey towers and mangled ruins that loomed overhead it moved to fit them. It was invisible to the few eyes that were ever to glance upon that place. This creature was a perfect hunter, patient and unseen, far more efficient than any man and much more of a danger to one. Its black skin would occasionally shimmer in the light but only if it allowed it to. This was the perfect assassin, the Stalker.
The Stalker was a stranger in this world, not a native even to this plane of existence. It was far from its home yet of far too high and determined a purpose to give thought to such things. It was ironic then that due to its distance from its original realm it had no chance of carrying out its intentions, to assassinate an important man from the human military. For years the Stalker had been trapped in this place, its home of concrete, metal and tarmac being it’s only place of residence since it was sent to this world. Echoes of its purpose still shot around, unheeded inside its calculating but slowly decaying mind. Its skies were of orange and black alternately and its diet was one of unsuspecting lone victims unfortunate enough to walk through its current home. Today was a day in which one would walk by. A good day.
A Stalker was the kind of creature that would savour the act of lurking behind its prey before moving in for the kill. This was in its nature and the rarer a victim, the more enjoyable the experience. Feeding was secondary to the kill itself, its natural instinct to murder those of the human condition being an over-riding force. Seeing the latest victim, a young man in brown on the top and blue on the bottom, the Stalker bared its teeth, the thought of the kill filling its thought processes. The man walked past without so much as a glance into the Stalker’s hiding place, just as it should be.
For the first time in weeks the Stalker moved out of the dense shadow and allowed the sunlight to hit its finely engineered body. The much needed illumination revealed it to be around 6 feet tall, slender with completely black skin. It resembled a human in basic shape, except with certain points exaggerated into more pointed versions. Its face was a twisted imitation of a human’s, with a thin, wide mouth, large red eyes and a slightly elongated head with no hair anywhere. It was armed with claws, which were deadly enough for those to be all it was armed with. Despite its clear affinity for naturally blending in with the background, the creature also possessed another ability not currently on display, the ability to move through walls. Nothing was able to stop a Stalker from reaching its intended target.
Living up to its name, the Stalker silently followed the man though the meandering paths around the ruins. If the man so much as suspected something, the Stalker would meld down into the shadows and wait it out for him to lose interest. As soon as he started walking again the hunt would be resumed, the Stalker observing every little thing he did, looking for the perfect moment to kill. It was only a matter of time.
The human continued to traipse though the rubble and dirt that comprised the city’s road, unaware of his silent follower. As a wind picked up he hunched over so as to keep the dust from his eyes, not realising that he couldn’t see what mattered anyway. The man coughed as he walked and didn’t appear to be the healthiest prey that had ever walked through this place, that wasn’t of importance to the Stalker though. It moved left and it moved right as the shadows dictated, spending minimal time in the burning orange sunlight.
Its quarry eventually slowed down, perhaps through exhaustion and sat for a moment on a concrete pillar that had long been felled. The Stalker slinked back into a shadow as the human turned to take a seat, gazing upon its next meals face with eagerness. The human looked worn and tired, as if it had been walking for days to find salvation but to no avail, something the creature wouldn’t understand as independent as it was. The human was nothing but prey to the Stalker, or most types of demon. Knowing this and only this at the current point, the Stalker finally rose up and in one defiant movement against its enemy of light, leaped from the shadow and set a claw straight though the humans lungs. Bathed in the eerie orange light of the sun, the human breathed its last and coughed thick blood across itself before its life was extinguished, so quickly and forcefully as to be almost abstractly peaceful. The Stalker let the body of the human slip to the floor and waited a moment to savour the feeling of execution before setting in to feed.
It would survive for another month at least.
The second ever bit of Human 2.0, which is set some way through the second major story arc, in in which the villain from the original comes face to face with the villain from the new arc.
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Elliot stood at the edge of the Complex roof, as all in front of him burned, the screams of pain music to his ears, the bright flames dancing as the bodies they covered flailed in agony. He smiled, darkly.
”I read about you in Savage Medical’s files Ellen,” he said without looking back. “Read about what you planned to do two years ago. About why you were doing it. About your daughter.”
”Get fucked Elliot, I know what you’re trying to do,” retorted Ellen, jarred by Elliot’s comment.
”You see, she wasn’t killed in your failed operation. She survived and was brought here, we both spent a while in this dirty laboratory, being experimented on like rats. We got to know each other a little. That was, before I killed her,” said Elliot as he turned to face her.
”You’re lying Elliot, I know she died that day. I saw it with my own eyes,” she replied, a shaky tone to her voice.
”I’m not lying Ellen. She survived, bleeding out, as you vanished without a trace. She was lucky really, to be picked up by people who know what potential she had. Of course, being able to teleport anywhere you can see doesn’t really help when you’ve had your eyes torn out. It was an interesting experience for me. I hope she felt the same.”
”Shut your fucking mouth Elliot!”
Ellen charged towards him as his eyes began to glow a bloody red. Her body dissolved from view but her footsteps continued to betray her location, and as Elliot swung his arm out her invisibility was broken and she was thrown to the floor.
”Hah, you useless woman. You’re daughter had more fight in her that that, but I suppose you’re getting on a bit now.” Elliot taunted, as Ellen’s rage grew.
She ran at him again, and he charged too, the moment they collided she slipped through his body like her ethereal codename, turning to strike him in the back of the head. But he had already spun on his heels and brought an inhumanly strong headbutt into her fist, which made a terrible cracking sound.
Ellen clutched her crumpled hand and stepped back, in agony, and could see how much Elliot was loving seeing her in pain. His power was fully functioning now, she realised she had been a fool to allow herself to get so angry, fueling his abilities.
”You’re lying, my daughter wasn’t killed by you,” she gasped, generally aimed at Elliot.
”You’re right,” he responded. “She managed to get away from me, but she’s alive. And now you’re never going to see her again.”
Suddenly Elliot unleashed an almighty straight punch, thrusting straight through Ellen’s chest and out the back of her body. He let the blood and tissue trickle down his arm for a few moments, then he took a step back and let her body simply collapse on the floor.
A story relating to the Human 2.0 universe, the only bit of it I really released.
————
The room is darkened, lit only by light streaming in through a slit in the black curtain. The solitary ray of light is made prominent by the smoke swirling within it, creating intricate intoxicating patterns. Just barely within the ray of light is the business end of a high powered rifle, perfectly stationary.
The room is also quiet. A tiny puff of a cigarette, the barely audible buzzing of a trapped moth; slow, measured breathing. The only clear sound comes when the scope on the rifle is adjusted, and then removed, cast to the floor.
Outside of the dark and quiet room, through the slit in the curtain, a quiet street on a sunny day. Battered cars bake in the burning sun of the day, parched plantlife pales in the light, a group of men in suits, four of them, slowly stroll down the street.
Instantly spotting the group of men, the rifle seemingly adjusts itself to smoothly track them, not a wasted movement to it. Even without the scope the barrel manages to draw a direct line of death to the back of the neck of one of the suited men. A deep breath fills the near silent room with sound, and the trigger is gently squeezed.
The silence is shattered, along with the suited man’s brainstem as the bullet penetrates his body and the street paving is painted red as the man’s throat explodes.
The previously unseen assassin steps forward to the window, downing his rifle, in order to examine his work. He sees the remaining suited men look around them in terror, their faces portaits of fear. They flee, but the assassin remains focused on the dead man now laying on the ground in front of him. He sees the man lying face up, his grisly gaping throat still pouring blood onto the floor.
The assassin looks closer, from his tiny viewpoint on the world he is still able to make out every detail of the man’s face, confirming exactly who he is, and that he has the correct target. Although the smoke in the room has dulled his smell, he can smell the blood pouring onto the pavement and hear it trickling into the drain. He can also hear the man’s heartbeat, which is slowly growing weaker, counting down to it’s eventual expiration.
The assassin turns away from the window, as he turns he reaches out and pulls down the curtain as he moves, the light pouring in and illuminating him. Mostly his body is concealed in a navy blue leather trenchcoat which reaches down to his heavy duty black boots. He takes a deep breath and turns once more towards the window, avoiding looking directly at it as the light shines in like white fire.
He picks up some items from a small side table beside the window: sunglasses, bandana, ear plugs. He then proceeds to make use of the items, before kneeling to dismantle the rifle.
His rifle in pieces, he gently removes a floorboard and secretes the rifle parts within, then seals the floor once again.
A vibrating sound and a feeling like thunder against his leg. The assassin pulls a mobile phone from his pocket and quietly answers it:
“Yes?”
“Smith. I assume you’ve dealt with the target,” says the voice on the other end of the line.
“He’s dead and positively ID’d. Messy. Time for me to leave.”
“Good work Smith. We shall leave your payment in the usual place.”
“Thankyou,” replies the assassin, ending the call.
He replaces the phone and brushes his hair away from his eyes. Taking a deep breath and detecting from the the air that there is nobody in the building but himself, he leaves. When he exits the building he walks away from the body he left, and hears the sirens some miles away as they approach the scene of the crime. He determines has plenty of time to vacate the area before they arrive, and casually walks home.
A short comical horror themed film based on the novel I am legend. I wrote this years ago because I was bored.
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Neville Roberts is the last man alive. The rest of the world have been turned into zombies by a parasitic infection, and roam the streets around his home. Neville, though his love of the supposedly anti parasitic drink absinthe, has remained immuned to the parasite. In the day, Neville must venture out and try to secure supplies and destroy zombie hives. At night, he hides in his home and hopes his defences (a number of signs telling the zombies to leave him alone) hold out.
One day, whilst roaming the city looking for supplies, he meets another man who thought he was the last one alive, Dan German, who has been through something similar to him. They decide to go and destroy the parasite hive nearby. Just as they go in to fight the zombies, a MISSING REEL slide is shown, and then it cuts the just Neville on his own with the severed arm of Dan, using it to beat zombies to death. The Hive is destroyed, and Neville runs home but it is full of zombies getting drunk on his absinthe. He curses them all, and the camera cuts away as you see him attacking them with the arm.
1
EXT-NEVILLE’S HOME-DAY
Neville’s weakly fortified flat stands in the middle of the silent street, as the words I AM A LEGEND fade in and out in the centre of the view. A single zombie shuffles along slowly in front of the house.
2
CUT TO
INT-NEVILLE’S HOME-DAY
NEVILLE, dressed in jeans and a patterend T Shirt, sat on the floor in his largely empty flat, with a line of shot glasses on the floor in front of him, all but two empty. From this view the absinthe bottle looks as large as he does. He downs the last two of them before taking a deep breath.
Neville
There’s my breakfast, time to go to work.
NEVILLE stands, a little shaky, and makes his way to the big wooden door. He fumbles with his keys for a few moments before managing to unlock and pass through the door. He is clearly drunk.
3
CUT TO
EXT-NEVILLES HOME-DAY
NEVILLE emerges from his home slowly, and the cold morning air hits him, rendering him instantly sober. He stands mindless momentarily before remembering his plans, and walks out of his tiny yard. DISSOLVE TO NEVILLE walking along the road by his home, he suddenly becomes alert and a CLOSE UP SHOT shows his eyes darting-he’s spotted zombies.
NEVILLE
Curse you, you ugly zombies!
NEVILLE without warning draws a submachine gun from seemingly nowhere and proceeds to attack THREE ZOMBIES who are in the street. He shoots one immediately in front of him- it drops dead. He then charges across the street towards one- firing the whole time. He finishes it off by punching it in the face, and then throws a grenade at the third one. It stops and looks at the device, before the view CUTS TO NEVILLE being showered in blood. Undeterred, the ever bold NEVILLE continues his walk.
4
CUT TO
EXT-TESCO- DAY
Long view of the huge tesco supermarket, dominating over an empty car park. NEVILLE can be seen wandering towards it.
5
CUT TO
INT-TESCO-DAY
NEVILLE looks around the tinned goods isle of TESCO, and picks up a couple of CANS OF BEANS.
NEVILLE
That’s dinner sorted then, time to go home.
NEVILLE turns as the view moves with him, and spots a zombie looking at him. He jumps, then runs away.
5
DISSOLVE TO
INT-NEVILLES HOME-NIGHT
NEVILLE sits in the dark, his home lit by only candles, as he eats his beans and reads a faded MAGAZINE.
NEVILLE
Om nom nom nom
NEVILLE finishes eating the delicious beans, then lies down on the floor to sleep.
6
FADE TO
INTERIOR-NEVILES HOME-DAY
NEVILLE slowly awakes to a new morning and takes a shot of absinthe from an almost empty bottle. Neville turns and looks at himself in a mirror.
NEVILLE
Looks like I’m going to need some more of this. How else can I stay immune to the parasite? And it’s good for getting me drunk too, eh Lawrence.
CAMERA SUDDENLY ZOOMS IN on a doll named LAWRENCE. It sits still and does nothing for a few moments before the camera moves back to NEVILLE.
NEVILLE
Bah, what would you know anyway Lawrence?
NEVILLE, annoyed, turns and leaves the room, and his home to go get more absinthe.
7
CUT TO
EXT - TOWN CENTRE - DAY
NEVILLE is calmly walking through town looking for a bar from which to procure more absinthe. Whilst walking he freezes in place, having spotted another living person walking the street, and runs to hide, his gun at the ready.
We see the area through NEVILLE’S viewpoint, as he looks round the corner from his hiding place, seeing the person again. NEVILLE immediately moves back and then looks again, the person being much closer now. This happens another time and then the person is right in front of him!
SURVIVOR
Hello
NEVILLE
Who the hell are you!?
DAN
I’m Dan, looks like I’m not the only one out here then. I’ve been hiding around the town ever since the incident, glad to see I’m not alone after all.
NEVILLE
I’m Neville. I’ve been killing zombies for a while. Shall we team up?
DAN
I know where the Hive is, if we burn it they might die.
NEVILLE
Sounds like a plan, lets move!
8
CUT TO
EXT-HIVE-DAY
NEVILLE and DAN have their backs pressed firmly against the wall of the HIVE, a large derlict building, listening to the MOANS OF ZOMBIES coming from within.
DAN
The main parasite should be in there. If we kill that, they should all die off.
NEVILLE
How do you know?
DAN
Haven’t you ever wondered how they stay alive if every one else is dead and they don’t eat each other?
NEVILLE
…magic?
DAN
There’s a queen parasite, and it feeds them and keeps them alive while there’s no living people around.
NEVILLE
Cool, lets burn it!
DAN
Okay, guns ready- GO!
9
CUT TO
CARD with the text SCENE MISSING- THANKYOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE
10
CUT TO
EXT-STREET-DAY
NEVILLE can be seen running along with a severed arm in his hand, DAN is nowhere to be seen. Whilst running along the street NEVILLE swings the arm at and knocks down passing zombies, but does not stop to fight them.
NEVILLE (THOUGHTS)
The hive is destroyed, at last I might be rid of them. I can’t believe they killed Dan though, now all I have left is this arm.
FADE TO
INT-NEVILLES HOUSE-NIGHT
NEVILLE makes it home at nightfall, and enters his hideout. He is however, taken aback as he sees it is filled with zombies who are swaying about the place and almost seem to be dancing. He looks at his table, and the camera zooms in on an empty absinthe bottle-the zombies have drunk his absinthe and are having a party!
NEVILLE
Damn you to hell zombies, you’re so smelly!
Neville begins to attack the zombies with DAN’s severed arm, and the picture suddenly ends as NEVILLE swings the arm at the camera.
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