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Even Heroes Can Cry

She swung for him, the time for talking had passed. He sidestepped in an instant, he knew her too well. She gasped as his foot connected with her knee while his arms snagged hers, and in a horrible moment of free fall, she fell face first onto the cold cement floor. A sickening crunch and a twang of pain signified the breaking of her nose as she struck the floor. Her eyes welled up with tears, but she did not stop. Every fibre of her being screamed the same message at her, as blood spurted from her nose and hammered in her ears, stop and you are dead! She twisted and rose, another kick connected with the side of her leg, she yelped as she crumpled to the floor.

Looking up, her vision was consumed by the barrel of a gun pressed to her forehead.

“You lose” He whispered, his sickly sweet voice made her shudder.

He pulled the trigger. She awoke with a jump. Sweat drenched both herself and the bed creating a nauseating stale aroma in her small room. She glanced around, there was no one there. Given that, she allowed herself just one moment of weakness, and cried. She was so afraid. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. She was only sixteen. She wasn’t ready to die. Why had this fallen to her? 

Teddy Bears Are Important

The boy collapsed into a heap beneath the comfort of his thick duvet, exhaustion finally claiming him. Darkness swept across the land as time flew by. Dreams illuminated the mind of the boy, creating a land of wonder as he slumbered in his small bed.

It was then, that the monsters made their move. They had waited silently all night until he was at his most vulnerable. Now they were ready. So they clawed themselves from the shadows of his room. They were all talons and teeth, darkness embodied. There was only one thing they wanted, to steal the boy away and claim him as there own. So they quietly moved towards him, his defenses lost to sleep. Or so they thought.

Just before they reached him, seconds before they tore soul from sinew, his bedtime guardian leapt to his aid. Clambering across the sea of blankets the small stuffed bear raised his little wooden sword in challenge. The patches adorning his golden fur marked his previous victories.

“You will not take him” the plucky little bear vowed as he had everynight before.

The shadows made their charge but it made no difference, the bear cut them all down. The bear protected the one he loved as he had in the past and as he would for ever more.

Sink or Swim

Sergeant Carlone surveyed the kids….the soldiers. It was difficult to think of them as that. Some of them were so little, how could he ever be tough on them. His face began to soften to mirror his train of thoughts, but then he stopped himself. He had his orders, he was to be ruthless towards them, they were to hate them. If he wasn’t tough on them now, without a doubt they would be dead when it came to the real deal. Train them to survive anything, that had been his final instruction.

Seven sleepy pairs of eyes stared at him, but he sat in silence, and they, had long since learned to only speak when spoken too. Finally when the morning sun had just begun to breach the horizon, Sergeant Carlone stood up and wordlessly strolled across the helicopter towards the door. Revealing incredible strength for someone so slight, he hefted the door open, allowing the seven sleepy pairs of eyes to take into account where they were. Outside as far as the eye could see was a seemingly endless expanse of water glowing orange in the dawn sun. If they were shocked or afraid, they didn’t show it. Good, the Sergeant thought to himself, at least they act like soldiers.

“ASSEMBLE!” The Sergeant said, gesturing towards the open door. He hated having to shout, but the rhythmic beating of the propellor outside made it a necessity. He allowed them to feel the wind whip at their backs before continuing, he thought he sensed a slight ebb in their resolve. They weren’t as mentally strong as they pretended. 

“You’re task today is simple.” He said in a completely dead pan voice. “Their is sanctuary out in that ocean, of a sort. You must simply find it.”

“But, I can’t swim!” A blonde haired girl at the end chirped. The sergeant recognized her as Cecile, the girl who had been kidnapped from France. She was usually tough as nails in these exercises, it was ironic to see her now, so fragile. A very different girl to the one that had scaled a mountain.

“Well then I hope someone else in this group cares about you.” The Sergeant said. She was about to respond but before she could, The Sergeant raised his foot and brutally kicked her in the chest. The wind was knocked out of her lungs and tears of pain formed in her eyes as she stumbled backwards, then fell out of the helicopter to be claimed by the sea below. The others stared at him coldly, but made no move to stop him. They knew the punishment of such actions.

“You should move fast if you want to save her.” The Sergeant scoffed, he disliked being the bad guy, but it was necessary. Wordlessly, six teenagers, six soldiers, stepped free from the helicopter. The air tore at them as gravity claimed them and they plummeted to the sea below. 

Once the sergeant saw the splashes that signified they had collided with the ocean he turned his attention to the pilot.

“Keep an eye on Cecile,” he said, “Make sure there is a team ready to get to her if they don’t”

“Yes sir.”

Blood Soaked Revenge

A click, and then the handcuffs locked into place binding his arms around a pillar. She held the key in front of his face, he barely saw it in the dim light of the sewer. This place assaulted every single one of his sense. His eyes were robbed of light by the encroaching gloom. His nose was bombarded by the awful smell of decaying bodies and human waste, he could even taste the foulness. His ears suffered the repetitive dripping that would cost lesser men their sanity. But the worst was his skin, the jagged edges of the handcuffs ate away at his flesh causing crimson bubbles to spring free in their wake. A lesser man would have been broken by these things, but an assassin of his calibre, could not be claimed by such attempts.

Instead of following the dangling key with his eyes, he stared straight past it to where he imagined her face hid in the gloom. A silence broken only by the constant dripping, seemed to develop between them.

“Stop looking at me, it’s creepy.” She said after some time.

“Is this the part where you shoot me?” He asked without looking away, without even blinking.

“We’re not going to shoot you, that’s too easy. We’re leaving you here to starve or get eaten. Both equally painful. Both more mercy than you deserve.” A male voice furthur away answered.

The assassin never looked away from what must have been the girls face as he began to speak, “I’d advise you to shoot me right now.”

“Look he’s already begging for-“

“Because if you don’t, I can assure you I will get out and I will make you pay for this defiance. I will slice you’re body for every second I have been down here. You’re families wont recognize your blood drenched bodies by the time I’m finished. You’ll be buried in unmarked graves.”

“Yeah sure…” The girls defiance was lost on the assassin. He had already succumbed to fantasies of hunting her down. Dreams of trapping her. Visions of her terrified face, fear mixed with regret for not killing him when she had had the chance. But it wasn’t until he saw in his mind’s eye the crimson arc of her blood as his blade sank into her flesh again and again, that he began to laugh. A laugh that would haunt the nightmares of those that had heard it, forever more.

Inspired By The Last Lines of the ME3 Launch Trailer

We stopped at the door, my hand just resting on it’s metallic majesty. She looked at me, she was trembling. But her eyes, there was a fire there the likes of which I’d never seen. Barely more than a whisper she said, “This is it, isn’t it…”

I refused to speak in case my voice would shake and destroy what ever confidence she had left. She needed me to be brave. So I just nodded instead, and then without a word I forced open the door, and we faced our destiny together.

Dawn

There’s a moment of pause, the whole night has been building to this. The darkness begins to swell in a vain effort to remain in control of the sky. The moon almost appears to flee, rapidly followed by it’s loyal stars. Then, suddenly and silently, light cracks up from the horizon. Black fades to blue, pink and orange as the sun lazily pushes itself up from it’s slumber. The world begins to awaken. High in the sky, great cumulus clouds appear to be burning in an unnatural fire as the smoldering colours of twilight take hold of the sky. A new day has begun.

Have Fun

A blade pierced through her stomach, effortlessly, as if the muscle that defended her was nothing more than paper, and then continued straight through her abdomen to the wall behind her.

“Good shot,” She chocked out to her assailant. Despite how fatal her situation was, in some sick and twisted part of her mind, she couldn’t help but admire her death wound. A straight cut through her body, no jagged edges at all and one hundred per cent, fatal.

Her tall balding assailant withdrew the sword that had pinned her in place and she fell to the ground as if her legs no longer existed. She hit the cement with a thud, but behind her she felt something, could it be? Was it her gun? She knew she should be screaming, it was true, the pain was intense, but why scream when you were knocking on death’s door. You cannot flee from your demise forever and screaming doesn’t make it any easier.

The tall man regarded her for a moment. Blood trickled out of her thin wound onto her once white blouse, no doubt it was flowing into her stomach as well. Her insides were bound to be a mess. She wouldn’t survive, his job was done. The assailant flicked his blade as he sheathed it, covering her face in droplets of her own blood.

“Have fun dying, witch bitch!” He spat.

He had barely taken three steps from her when a solitary shot rang out across the street. The single bullet tore straight through the man’s torso, obliterating his heart.

“Don’t let me have all the fun.” She said as darkness consumed the life she had once called her own.

Words

Though she’d never admit it, Karla secretly loved sparring Tom. Both of them were so poor with words but in the heat of the moment, their bodies uttered secrets their lips couldn’t even imagine forming.

His stance was shuffled back, his legs slightly closer together than usual, arms held high covering his head but ready to alter themselves and defend the rest of his massive bulk at a moments notice. He was preparing for an attack, he felt guilt, he felt apologetic?

Her stance was lower, much lower, legs wide and steady. She had fallen once and been hurt, it wouldn’t happen again. She was ready to attack, she had every reason. She wanted to hurt him.

You Made Me This Way

Sammy took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be easy. Why did he have to do it? He was shit when it came to consoling, sure he could empathize but there was only so much empathy did to sooth another’s soul. He did a sort of half jump on the spot, it was an old trick he used to use to calm himself before a surfing competition. But it did nothing for the butterflies in his stomach now. Dammit why was he nervous? Sighing ever so slightly Sammy pushed open the door. 

The gloom inside the small dorm room almost seemed to assault Sammy. He wanted to bolt, to flee from the insecurities he sensed within it. But then his vision adjusted to the gloom allowing him to see Dan’s small frame huddled on the edge of his bed, his back to Sammy.

“Go away.” He said quietly.

Sammy ignored him, walked across the room and sat beside the smaller boy. Dan’s eyes were red and puffy from tears. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, he hadn’t wanted anyone to know he’d been crying.

“Are you ok?” Sammy asked. He silently cursed himself. What a stupid question to ask, of course he wasn’t ok. But the question hung in the air all the same.

“I don’t get it, they call me fag, and it hurts. They call you it and you laugh.” Dan finally said.

“It still hurts me, I just don’t let it show. Laugh and the world laughs with you, weep and you weep alone.” Sammy replied. He placed his arm around Dan and squeezed his shoulder in support.

“I just, it’s not fair… I hate it here. What sort of place allows teachers to call it’s students names like that.”

“This place isn’t normal” Sammy agreed.

An awkward silence followed. Sammy refused to look at the younger boy. He didn’t want to see the mess of tears; tears that represented how he felt but that he could not express himself. He couldn’t allow himself to feel their relief. He would never show that weakness.

“Hey Sammy?”

“Yeah?” Sammy said, turning. His eyes locked with Dan’s. He saw something in his eyes, or he thought he did. A certain longing. He leaned in, and he kissed the other boy softly on the lips. Dan’s face was at peace, but only for a moment. This peace quickly melted away to something akin to fury. Dan forcefully shoved Sammy off of him.

“This is you’re fault!” He spat.

“W-what?” Sammy stammered, he wasn’t really used to people getting angry when he kissed them.

“It’s your fault I’m like this, you made me this way.”

“No I didn’t”

“I never wanted this, I didn’t choose this. I hate liking boys, everyone mocks me all the time. You did this to me.”

“Dan, calm down”

“YOU MADE ME THIS WAY!” Dan shrieked. He was staring at Sammy with such disgust now. He looked like he was about to say something else, but then thinking better of it he closed his mouth, turned on his heel and left the gloom behind.

Someone has to die…

There was a brief moment of silence. Former friends had been made enemies by fate. She stared right into his eyes as he did hers. No other sound could be heard on the oil rig, not that there was anyone left alive to make one. They had swept through the oil rig with ease. Their super human abilities allowing them to tear every opposition in their path apart limb from limb. Both of them were tyrants of power, but now they had come to this conclusion. What was it that happened when an unstoppable force met an immovable object. Something had to give way, someone had to die.

“Are you going to kill me?” She asked. The words almost seemed to splutter from her mouth. She was afraid, why the hell was she afraid. No one was stronger than her. Not even him. They were equals.

“I don’t have a choice…” He responded.

“Bullshit, everyone has a choice in life.” That’s when it hit her, they weren’t equals, not fully, because while she had no desire to kill him. Only one look into his eyes told her, Back down, give me any chance at all and you are dead.

“If it makes you feel any better, I am sorry.” 

Before she could reply he raised his twin pistols and opened fire on her. Faster than the bullets that craved her life, she threw herself aside while lobbing a single grenade in his direction. There was an explosion and then nothing, she tore threw the smoke and fire, her only weapon left, a broad sword, glinting in the moonlight. He met her challenge without fear.

When an unstoppable force meets an immovable object something has to give. Someone has to die!