Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Bang Bang

"THAT bead of metal goes into my head. And if it doesn't, THAT other one will.", he fantasised. It was going to be a beautiful shoot-out.

The looks on their sergeants' and officers' faces will be priceless. The hunter becomes the hunted. The meek shall inherit the fucking Earth. It'd be so sweet, what a loaded rifle could do.

There's only so much taunts one can shrug off before he snaps. Just yesterday, the Captors singled him out for not putting in effort for his battle drills. The Captors sure know how to break a man. Humiliate him in front of the platoon, attribute the failure of the platoon to his actions, make the platoon hate him and love the Captors.

Don't they realise, they're part of the same fucking plan? Captors, Captives, they're all conscripts. It's part of the big master plan to turn them against each other, to inflict maximal pain.

Fuck it. He's going to send a message. He's going to get his revenge on the Captors who had taken such great pleasure playing their futile roles.

He played out every single step in his mind. That very mind that was going to receive one cold bullet down the middle later.

It was going to be a completely typical training shoot at the firing range. On the command, they'd fire their first shots.

Then he'd do a 180 degree and shoot the first 14 Captors he sees. Anyone, everyone. It doesn't matter, all the Captors are guilty by proxy. Does individual innocence matter any more if the Captors can inflict such great pain as a group?

It was pretty simple. Bang. Bang. Bang. He'd have to count really carefully and calmly though. He needed to leave 2 for himself.

And it was rifle in mouth, aimed slightly upwards into the skull.

Then, bang. Nothing was going to matter any more.

The looks of horror on the faces of the Captives and remaining Captors would be golden. The repercussions were going to be a blast to see. The Conscriptors will go weak in their knees. If only he could be both alive and dead at the same time to witness it. The problem with death is that one can't get any closure to his own death.

"Detail 6, prepare to fall in."

And he meekly took his rifle with him and left his fantasies behind in the training shed.

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