This Means War

Tyler, staggering down the beach in his blood soaked tank top, fell to his busted knees planting his face in the cold damp sand.

“Tyler! We aren’t done here.”

Tyler rolled to his back and whipped the sand from his face. David approached him, giving him an expression of pure hatred.

“So, we goin’ to finish this, or have you had enough yet?”

David felt a sharp pain shoot up his leg as Tyler extracted a long, sharp crimson painted shell.

“You better hope you can grow wings and fly away, ‘cause when I catch up to your ass, you’re dead.” David taunted.

Ashley approached David in laughter. “Damn, David. You can get pissed off all you want to, but is this fight really worth shrooms? You shouldn't be doing drugs anyway.”

David finally got to his feet and limped in the direction of Tyler, clenched fist, yelling at the top of his lungs. Sick of the pointless fighting, Tyler turned and delivered a breath taking strike to the chest, knocking David to the ground. David’s head bounced against the sand as Tyler delivered blow after blow to his poor tattered face.

“Tyler, supper’s ready!”

Tyler sat his controller down along with his headset and stood from his chair.

“On the way mom!”