Post by Deleted on Oct 20, 2018 0:31:41 GMT -5
The Figure The muzzle of the pistol felt ice cold against her neck, but it was nothing compared to the frigidity of the look in his desperate eyes. She couldn’t move - she was locked in place and his words were mere echoes - echoes she imagined were the last thing she would ever hear. She couldn’t swallow, her throat was so dry and she couldn’t scream, even if she tried. She had imagined this in the past, but it was always at the hands of scum-the dregs of the city he made her move to. She saw them on the streets - she saw the way they looked at her. Even with all of her knowledge of fighting, she thought there was a chance that they could get to her. She never went out at night. Even if the city was a tourist trap during the day time, at night, she never wanted to be out alone. She had imagined this in the past alright, but she never imagined it would be her husband brandishing the weapon. “You just couldn’t keep your slut fucking legs closed!” he winced, spitting as he spoke, “Couldn’t keep your cock sucking mouth shut!” She wanted to plead, but still, nothing would come out. Not even a whimper. “You and I? We’re going to do this together, ok?” He pushed her against the wall and took her hand and pulled it towards the grip of the pistol. “Grab it! Fucking grab it!” Reluctantly, she did. “Feels good doesn’t it? Feels powerful, right?!” He cocked the hammer back - she could hear the cylinder spin as the bullet which would end her life lined up with the pipe. “Don’t you fucking worry either, I’ll be right-fucking-behind you. You dumb cunt…” His voice trailed off as there was a rustling--something told her to make a move, but all she could focus on was the fact that she had just pissed herself. His eyes wandered, but finally trained back onto his target - they looked each other eye to eye. “I loved you, you know that, right?” Suddenly the lights flickered and went out - as did the lights outside the window right behind him. He pulled the gun free from her hand and backed up. “What the fuck?” She watched in a twisted mix of shock and horror as the plaster of the wall next to him burst open - dusting him white as a black figure pushed its way out of the wall. She couldn’t believe her eyes as the figure wrestled with him for a moment followed by the loud pop of the pistol. She watched as her husband’s figure fell to its knees and slumped over. All she could do was cry and cry hard. She didn’t know what was going on as the figure turned to face her all she could see were two pulsating blue eyes. She heard herself saying, “Oh my god.” repeatedly, but couldn’t feel her lips move. The figure approached her slowly. Slowly, in the darkness it reached out for her - she felt cold for a moment, but as it rested against her, she felt it grow warm. It wretched and slowly unintelligible words became understandable and the voice - the voice was her own. “Annika…” it groaned. “What...what are you?” “I am…” It wretched again as she began to feel woozy. “I am…you…” She felt herself slipping away. She was overtaken by horror as a dull light revealed that she was looking into her own eyes. She held her hand up and watched as it slowly began to somehow dematerialize. She tried to muster a scream, but by the time it reached her throat, she ceased to exist. The figure growled, “You wouldn’t have amounted to much.” The Grunt and the Enemy Khe Sanh, 1968 Both sides would claim victory, but neither would really win. Yet another battle for nothing. In the narrow theater that was the Battle of Khe Sanh, one hundred and fifty five Marines would lose their lives holding a piece of land which ultimately would be abandoned and fall right back into the hands of the ‘enemy’. That ‘enemy’ would pay a much greater toll to take back what was rightfully theirs all along. It’s a shame really - as controversial as it is to say, the United States pitted the Marines against the wrong side. They died defending the greed of a police state - far from their homes. I was a grunt - a nobody. The plane shook as we flew in - I wasn’t sure if we would even make it to the ground in one piece. The bark of exploding anti-aircraft shells seemed to be all around us and I did everything I could to stop from locking up. I looked around and every other Marine on the plane had the same look in their eyes as I’m sure I did. We sat on pins and needles. As soon as the plane hit the airstrip we were all herded out of the door - the plane didn’t even stop moving. I saw nothing but the olive drab fabric of the man in front of me. I pushed, feeling like I was about to be swept away by the tide of something much larger than myself. I turned just in time to be pulled clear by a much larger man - I landed in a crater as a deafening explosion rang out - from there all I could hear was ringing in my ears and the distant muffled shouts of the men around me. For some, this chaos had become the status quo - for the ones like me - it was a living nightmare. I was covered by dirt and felt as if I had already been buried in my grave early as a pair of strong hands reached through the dirt and debris and pulled me out - that’s when I first got to look him in the eyes. Corporal Laurence Othello. “Get on your feet Marine and do something useful, like not dying!” I was there to do something useful and had a lucky streak as I was already face to face with my target. You see, to be completely transparent, Laurence Othello wasn’t supposed to walk away from Khe Sanh. One version of history had Laurence Othello posthumously awarded the SIlver Star for heroism during the siege. Don’t believe what the Lycaeum tells you - I was doing the right thing - selfish or not. I would stick to Laurence like glue and by the time we found a fox hole with four wounded and scared Marines, he handed me an M-16 and told me, “This is yours now. Aim it at anything that moves and do your job.” The weapon shook in my hands and whether or not I was ready to use it was soon thrown to the wind as the enemy overran our position. This was the moment. The four injured Marines were huddled around our feet as the enemy stormed us. “Give ‘em hell!” It began as a firefight, but as they overwhelmed our position, it became close hand to hand combat. I gave it everything I had - I fought until my muscles burned. I turned to see the enemy approaching Othello from behind, bayonet out. I reached for him and he quickly turned around and the bayonet intended for Othello was driven into my stomach. My eyes were locked with his-a boy. Couldn’t have been older than sixteen. His eyes were glassy and showed the same fear as my own. He screamed and turned the bayonet in my stomach. Othello dispatched the last man and turned to see the boy killing me. Laurence killed that boy right in front of me. As I fell to my knees, I had to convince myself that the boy was a man, or something. I couldn’t make sense of it. I fell to my side and was eye to eye with him. He was calling for his mother and sister. I took his hand and held it in my own and he didn’t pull away. We died there together. The ‘Grunt’ and the ‘Enemy’. We died so that Laurence would live - to fulfill his duty. The greater good. Personal Journal Vicis, Gia - 13-2-25 October 15th, 2018 Subject 65-1-23 has me perplexed. Her movements don’t make any sense and to what end she’s moving toward doesn’t seem to be clear. She’s spending all of her time with Tony Sharpe and Pandora Royce. I haven’t tracked any irregular movements. So far, all I’ve really gotten out of this deal is a pre-cataclysm tour of old Europe. It’s a lot brighter - less cramped. These people couldn’t seem to realize how well they had it. They couldn’t live together in peace. The rise of the White Supremacy movement was all around me, but not enough people could see it happening. Too concerned with their expensive coffees and their archaic ‘smart phones’ which made them look anything but ‘smart’. Pity. Side note - I read about an interesting event in Amsterdam - four city blocks had lost power. From the research I did on the subject, it seemed to be an EMP device. I had no idea they had that kind of technology-I thought all of the technology was devoted towards displacing the public from reality as much as possible.. I went to the show that Pandora and Elina competed at and I’ll admit, it was entertaining. I think the most entertaining part of the whole affair was sitting in and amongst the ‘fans’. They weren’t the bloodthirsty crowd I expected. They were mostly children. I ate ‘popcorn’ and enjoyed myself. Enjoyed, of course, all with a lump in my throat. They were an odd society, but they just wanted to be happy. |