Random story I'm writing

[mynameisbuzz]

Ok I haven't posted any writing on NG, but I guess it's never too late to start. This is just another random piece of crap I'm writing. On this one, I'm kinda trying to not use a ton of description and present scenes with only a few paragraphs. All comments and criticisms are welcome and appreciated :) I may also need some ideas of how to continue this haha. Oh and to all you Disturbed fans, look for the little down with the sickness reference ;):

Screams filled the night. The cries of the dying rang out against the black sky and the smells of blood, waste and fear were overpowering. Gunshots echoed in the darkness, and fresh corpses littered the ground. The innocent were dying tonight. Their pleas for mercy meant nothing, the darkness' hunger must be sated. Judas began to hear the whispers. They were soft at first, but they were rising, he could hear them now. It always happened. He could feel it taking over. Oh god, he thought, what has become of me?

He heard his captain yell something. He would kill soon. Standing outside the building in the acid rain, he could smell his victims' fear. Another yell, more urgent this time. The time was close. He drooled in anticipation; his weakened mind had been taken over. Nothing else mattered anymore, he felt the hate flow up in him and consume his mind. The infection was rising. All of a sudden the air around him exploded. Bright flashes surrounded him as a wall of noise arose, and there were fresh screams and blood filling his senses. All hope for him was gone now.

Judas screamed a shrill, hateful scream and exploded through a weak door near the side of the building. Kill, KILL, the voice repeated in his mind as he felt his muscles tighten in transformation. That feeling, when his thirst for violence became overpowering, he felt his soul was free. Sprinting down the halls in a mad frenzy, he searched for where they were, his hunger was uncontrollable now. At the end of the hall he abruptly stopped. The abrasive old lights flickered above his head. He had found them. He prepared himself in glorious anticipation. Bursting into the room, he found them ready to be killed, huddling in a dank, wet corner of the room. They were shrieking now, he could tell what they were thinking. He heard one woman scream "Jesus God, what is it? WHAT IS IT?!?!"

Judas approached his first victim, only a small child. He looked into the small boy's fear-filled eyes and felt an odd sensation come over him. He felt weak. What has become of me? What has become of me???, but another voice in his head drowned the weak little voice of reason, Don't try to deny what you feel. Imagine how good it would be, all you need to do is kill, it doesn't matter. Judas' mind exploded in hate and he grabbed the boy's neck and squeezed, he could feel the tiny throat being crushed under his massive hands. He tore and ripped at the child's flesh, more screams, louder this time. He went into a frenzy, screaming and killing. Soon everyone had died. Their bodies littered the floor, ribcages torn open, eyes still wide in fear. The smell of blood, the beautiful smell, filled the air, and the innards of his victims were splattered against the walls. He looked down at his mutated, blood-soaked hands, and he felt his hate begin to brew again. Judas stood absolutely still, calm. Oh god, what has become of me?
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Once the slaughter had finished, the pale, dying sun had already begun to come over the horizon. The ground was completely covered in corpses, and fires had engulfed much of the small settlement. Judas had now regained control over his mind. His head spun, he felt like vomiting all of the flesh he had consumed in one night out onto the corpse-covered ground. He was used to it by now, though after every attack he felt a pain, and a guilt that made him know he was damned forever. He had been killing innocents for days that had all melted together, and he wondered if he would ever lose his insanity. He knew he was being used, but why couldn't he fight back?

The voice could always tempt him. It knew how to weaken him. There was no turning back, he knew that much, the infection was upon him. He wished only that he had never agreed to this, that he had fought back when he could've. The businessmen, the recruiters, all like the voice, all knew what would weaken him. His mind went back to the time when he was free, when he didn't need to kill, when it could stop happening. How much longer would this have to go on? Judas grimly raised his head and joined in the rest of the dark army's death march.
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The invasion lasted twenty more days before it came to an abrupt stop. Now Judas found himself in the only place he found himself when he wasn't killing; a cell. He felt like the animal he was, caged, locked up, the world was protected from him. He didn't know how long he would be stuck, but he would normally spend days upon days sitting there. Just sitting there, no voice would tempt him. Inside of his cell, there was nothing to kill, nothing to hate.

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It had been a long time now since anything had happened. Judas still just sat in the middle of his cell, he had been for at least three weeks. He hadn't been fed for those three weeks either, and he was getting restless.

He got up from the dirt ground and looked through his tiny cell window. He saw what he always saw. Across from him, a cage, if he looked to the side, another cage, if he looked to the other side, another cage. The only comfort he had was the he knew he wasn't the only one. He would see all these other people in hell when the time came, and that made him feel just a little bit more comforted.

Judas began to walk back to the place he sat when he suddenly he heard the door unlock. That meant one of two things: he was being moved or he needed to go out and kill again. But when the door opened, he saw something he never expected to see. The infection rose again, and he could hear the voices
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Flying in the gigantic gunship, Judas wondered what would become of him now. To him it was just another enemy, just another victim to be slaughtered. But everyone else, the captains, the businessmen, the priests, the huge daemons who always came along with them; everyone seemed to be on edge, everyone acted like this was different. Sitting tightly in between two incredibly large mutants, he wondered why he didn't just kill himself. Why didn't he just stop it all.

He could at any point decide that this was too much and make the right decision and take his own life. He could practically hear the voices of his victims crying out for retribution for his sins. This made him think hard. The idea had never really come to his head of killing himself before. Why hadn't it? He knew that it was the better path, he knew he deserved it, but why didn't he just do it? And then an even scarier idea came to his head. What if he liked it? What if he liked the bloodshed and the death? That scared him more than anything.

Interrupting his thoughts, the ship suddenly shook violently. The time was coming. Everyone was starting to prepare for the battle ahead. Judas sat for another moment before getting up and getting ready for the voice. But this time, he let the infection totally overcome him. He wondered what would happen now. He felt a new, darker power flow through his veins. Now, the voice laughed, you are ready. The ship now suddenly dropped and they soon had landed onto the wasteland of ground. The gigantic door slowly opened and legions upon legions of the dark army's servants spilled out. The time has come.
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As soon as Judas ran into the daylight he knew why this was different. They weren't killing innocent women and children, this was a battle, and they were fighting an army. Explosions went off all around him, he could hear curses and orders being yelled all around him, and he was practically standing in a hail of gunfire. Already fully transformed, he sprinted into the fray, the voice urging him on to kill. Kill, kill, kill, the voice hissed over and over in his head. Roaring, he brought his fist down upon a terrified human. His skull cracked open and his brain was now

[mynameisbuzz]

splattered over Judas' hand. Yes, more, MORE, the voice commanded. It was all a blur now. All he could see was red, and the infection had gone deeper into him than it ever had.

Before long the very ground was a pool of blood, both his own and his enemies. The voice was now only cackling, regaling in the bloodshed. Judas was still ripping and tearing at every living thing he could get his hands on, gorging himself upon the flesh of his foes

[mynameisbuzz]

Oh well jesus, guess i couldnt paste italics