The Feeling Underneath was my first time writing a Horror/Thriller novel, so the action scenes were new to me, but with each chapter, my skill grew sharper and I was able to write scenes like this:
Excerpt from Chapter i.e Bloody War
The Armed men opened fire as Kole rushed back behind the corner. Bullets clanged against his stony armor. Caesar also ran but several bullets ran through him. The worst one hit him in the back of the head.
Agonizing screams parted his lips, and blood poured from the wounds like red wine. He slipped on his own blood and fell to the ground, lying still like a human-sized doll.
Kara heard him and her blood ran cold. "No! No, Caesar," she whaled. "This is all my fault!" She wanted to run to him but Kole had his arms around her waist, holding her back. "Get off me! Let me go. You took me but you just left him there. You dog!"
"Calm down! I left him because I knew he'd be fine. But if you go out there you'll die."
"Fine? How is he fine when he's on the floor, covered in bullet wounds? He's dead, and it's all my fault!"
Kara wept hysterically as she tried to claw her way out of Kole's grasp, but it was no use. He was too strong.
"So you've never seen it before?"
"It? S-Seen what?"
"Malice at work."
Just then, breath came out of Caesar's mouth. His back moved up and down as he began to breathe again, and his arms trembled. Like a zombie brought back to life, he slowly pushed himself up and stood on wobbly legs with his head down. The sight frightened the Armed men; their eyes were wide as lightbulbs as they watched him. They were sure he was dead. This wouldn't be possible unless. . .
One of the men swore loudly. "This is subject Two-Sixty-Eight. Don't shoot him! Go non-lethal and get out your tranquilizers."
Kara's breath was caught in her throat when she saw Caesar resurrect. Tears glistened in her widened eyes. How can this be? They shot him. He was. . . dead. Kara knew that he could heal himself. She'd seen it so many times, but not to this extreme. How strong was Caesar, exactly?
Pellets came out of his body and clanged against the ground as Malice spoke. "I've had it up to my neck with people harming my brother."
Groaning, he set a hand against his forehead, trying to alleviate the pounding headache; but then a bullet burrowed its way out of his frontal lobe and fell at his feet.
"It's getting old."
"Turn around!" one commanded, aiming a tranquilizer gun at him.
"Get on your knees and put your hands in the air!"
"Hurry up! Do it before we shoot again."
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way. It's up to you!"
Malice ignored the shouting and vicious threats. Instead, he looked down and noticed his torn-up and bloodied shirt. It was then when Caesar's pain hit him. It hurt so bad. He hated that he wasn't conscious when it happened.
If I was awake, I could've protected him from that.
Malice bared his teeth and clamped his fingers into the shirt. Deep wrinkles formed, and blood oozed from the fabric and trickled down his arm. Rage coursed through his veins, causing the blood at his feet to vibrate.
With crazed eyes, he glared at them. "You're all going to pay! I'll make you bleed the amount of blood Caesar had shed these past two months," he bellowed. "This place isn't even large enough to contain it all!"
The Armed men didn't waste a second. They rushed behind those with shields then aimed at him and shot round after round of tranquilizers........