Back
The air was cold and crisp, your eyes darting about the quiet base.
The cold wind blew, ruffling your hair and sending goosebumps scattering across your skin.
But you don�t notice.
Years of harsh training have left you like you are.
The gentle, caring boy I�ve heard stories about is just a memory now.
He died the first time.
Now, all that remains, is the hard outer shell.
Prussian blue eyes that hold a stare of Death as you wait quietly.
What is the point behind this mission?
Do you even know why you fight?
The tears you shed are not for those you�ve killed, or even the childhood you�ve had to leave unused, but for what you�ve become.
You kill, but you don�t like to.
It�s destroy or be destroyed. You are the stronger one in this meaningless battle.
The people who you could consider �friends� see the potential you could have if you learned to relax.
Your muscles tense as movement occurs below you.
Do you react? The twitching of your thumb�is it the urge to �press the button� or are you worried about who you will kill.
The little girl�s dog barks�what was her name? Mary. Let the sound ring in your ears. �I�m not lost, I�m taking Mary for a walk.�
Was it a miscalculation?
More people begin to move about. Some one spots your eye.
A crazy fool, how did he ever come to pilot such a machine? What�s to be done about him?
The button under your thumb begins to move slightly. You can feel the pressure build, you want to hear the explosion that says it�s all over.
�Well, I suppose a talented guy like you could read my lips.� His voiceless words haunt you still. You can hear his voice.
�Why did I even bother to rescue this guy?�
Why did he?
You relax your hand and realize you have to change this mission.
But will you be too late?
Are you crying? You can feel the hot run over your cheeks and sting the small cuts that scatter your face. Are they for him?
Will you admit to being Human yet?
Will you force yourself to realize that even though you�ve been trained, �the mission comes first,� you can still have an effect to the number of lives lost?
There he is. The bruise is visible on his face.
Did you put it there? Why are you blaming yourself for his mistakes?
You may be independent fighters, but you all are connected. He didn�t know you, but still he rescued you. Can you return the favor? Even if it means you really do have emotions?
He�s scared, you can see it in his eyes, dilated as they may be, he is visibly afraid.
The wind pulls at him harshly, as if it will pull him apart, he is truly fragile in his current state.
The choice is yours to make and yours alone.
Who�s going to stop you?
The pain and suffering comes back. There�s Mary, broken and battered, burnt and bruised.
The small dog couldn�t have been much more then a few months old.
�I�ll give you this flower.�
The one you held then. Deep orange petals, curving yellow center, it was simple and kind. Why did you have to kill her? Will this be repeated again?
He�s not that girl. He got himself into this mess. She had no choice. You have no choice.
�Mission altered.� You barely breathe the words, your monotone voice, sounded a bit relieved you realize as you stand on shaky feet.
They�ve stopped. In the middle of the base, the wind sending visible shivers down his spine. You can tell they�ve tried to get information from him.
Did he break? You�ll kill him later if he did.
He too, now seems more like that puppy, only there is still time. You can save him�can�t you?
He�s barely standing on his feet, head down, pleading for Death, you wonder? Or is he hoping he�ll die. Like you.
You all have that in common. It�s a start.
A start for what?
At this rate, peace will never be final.
Never will the day reach you where you don�t have to kill anymore. How much longer will it take!?
You�ve altered your mission once more. A third time; to save his worthless life as he did you.
A step in the wrong direction, you wonder, does your conscience come into play? Do you even have one anymore?
Or did that die, too, with your lost childhood?
Drawing closer, you pause, is it training?
His tears fall to the ground now, the same as yours do. Why does he cry? Does it matter?
Is it why you cry?
One word always crosses your mind:
Death.
That�s why he cries. Does he truly want his life to end, like you, or does he want to live?
You all look for a suicide mission; yours has come and gone. His has yet to come; will he die without his attempt?
You can hear him now. Low sobs and prays in his native tongue; you can decipher it though. It�s not a normal prayer.
He prays to gods he doesn�t believe in, letting his fears come out. Hair wet, eyes glossy, he looks up to see you.
A sudden stop in his mumbling causes the others to turn.
Now it�s over. Raising your arm, you fire. Four quick shots. One to each of the men holding your comrade.
As he falls to his knees, pleading with you, his eyes show all his fear.
Light brown hair, clinging wildly to his sweat drenched features.
You nod your acknowledgement and fire, letting him end his wasted life, his thanks dying on the wind in his last breath.
One to you.
You don�t have to fight anymore. This new place is warm and green.
A dog barks, is it Mary?
A voice cries out. �There you are.�
Turning you see him. The child you killed just moments before, but is he a child? He, too, has given up his childhood to train just as you have.
�Is this heaven?� Still you�re quiet.
He shakes his head slowly. �I think so.�
There she is. That small girl with her dog, running and playing.
You collapse. Fall to your knees and forward onto your elbows, let the tears come.
�Don�t cry,� the girl�s voice is soft, like you remember. The dog barks joyfully, trying to lick you face. �Come play with me and Mary.� She runs off laughing.
�Do you see why now?� he asks, helping you to your feet. �This is why I could never be as strong as you.�
�What do you mean?� his face is no longer bruised. He seems fine now, his thin smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
�You kill anything that crosses your path. Meaning to or not and you don�t think twice. I could never do that. I couldn�t force myself.�
Staring in bewilderment, your face drops. He, who claims to be a Death God, merciful?! This place gets stranger and stranger with every spoken word.
�Are you coming?�
Mary runs up to you and you pick her up.
Walking away from him, you know he�ll be okay, what you did really was the right thing.