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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Relationship · #1369975
boys transition from weapon to loved due to encounter with mute girl
                                          Prolouge

Shouts of anguish and victorious yells rent the night air, a orchestra of rifle cracks dominating all sound. A old man runs through the din, bullets ripping apart the ruins aroudn him. Eyes wide and chest heaving he gasps for air, legs pistoning madly in a desperate sprint for life. A explosion to his left throws him through the air, the earth spinning and tumbling madly around him. Landing with a crash into what once could have been a living room, he reopens his eyes, scanning his surroundings. His gaze resting on a body in the hall, he frantically scrambles to his feet. Tears spilling from his eyes and into his unkempt sage colored beard, he cradles a well known face to his chest. A rifle's report alerts him to the cause of the sudden pain in his lower back. As his vision blurs, he lovingly closes the unseeing eyes of his late wife for the final time. Drifting off into the darkness his soul joins the many torn from their bodies by the uniformed demons marching through the ruined streets. A little girl clenches her eyes shut and holds her hands over her ears, having witnessed the final moments of her parents lives.
                                          Chapter 1
                                        ***Target Practice***
 
  Darkness has fallen like a thick blanket of shadows, broken by the few working streetlamps. I stand in the street, alone, the deluge from above soaking me thouroughly. Gun in hand, i beign to walk towards the abandoned warehouse which houses our targets. My other squadmates in position, i begin to play my part. My finger squeezes the trigger, once, twice, three times. The silenced rounds tear apart the front door, and tear into two of the targets standing there. One falls dead, the other falls screaming. As i enter the gloomy hall, a puff from my silenced rifle ends the second's misery. Inside the dim hall i watch as several targets run past, fear in their eyes, into the main storage area. The doorway pulsates with the falshes of my squad's silenced muzzles. As i proceed up the dark staircase, the only sound is the screams below. Rounding the corner, i find myself face to face with another target. Before the man can react, i whip the stock of my gun into his stomach. Gasping for air, he begins to collaspse, and i unsheath my combat knife.  As his body hits the ground, I enter the first of the rooms, continueing the hunt. A part-way shattered mirror witnesses the murder, showing not a man, but a demon. Blood spattered on my chest, spots of it on my face, and eyes cold and empty, devoid of remorse, devoid of life. A door opens, people scream, several thumps are heard, the door closes. This cycle repeats, and repeats, and repeats, until my hand grasps the final doorknob. Turnign the knob, i find it to be locked. Retreating a few steps, i aim my rifle towards the knob. Splinters fly through the air as i slam the door open, the lock's pieces strewn across the floor. Sweeping from left to right, i discover the occupants of this final room. A mother and her child huddle in the corner, defiance in the mother's eyes, fear in the childs.
"Don't come any closer you K.O.P. basta-"
My muzzle flashes. Mothers, children, the idetntity of my prey do not matter. These people are nothing but targets, exept these targets scream. Slinging the gun over my shoulder, i exit the room, leave the horror behind. In the mirror, my eyes still show no remorse, no emotion. I am a weapon, not a human being, a product of society. As i begin down the hallway, one of my squadmates does a check on the bodies, identifying each one, making sure every target has been eliminated. I watch him as he enters the last room, watching his eyes, watching as he puts his hand to his mouth.
"Oh my god...."
Turning to me,
"they weren't even on the list man! why did you-"
My cold stare shuts him down Turning to leave, i catch the motion of his head shaking, and wish i could twist it just a little further. Death is my business, and i am a proffesional in my trade.

  Streetlamps flash by, blocking out the star's light above. The crew is silent, all staring to the front. I lean back, eyes closed, attempting to sleep. I feel the forward motion of the van halt, and opening my eyes, i see the crew all staring at me now.
"Get out, you are too dangerous for us, we don't want you."
"Yeah, HQ will be told about your absolutley tragic death."
A few of them chuckled, i just stared.
Watching the van pull away, i stood in the synthetic light of another streetlamp. I clench my fist, but not in anger. The detonator in my hand clicks, and from around the corner i can see the fireball's glow. Turning on my heel, i begin to walk alone.



floating.
i lay in the darkness, engulfed.
thoughts shift through my mind, shades of my subconscious.

"what is it i am?"
"you are death"
"what is it i feel?"
"nothing"
"what is it i want?"
"you do not know."

I open my eyes to another gray dawn, and standing up, i prepare to move on. Looking around the old room that housed me the night before once more, i head out the door, and into the street. The rain has stopped, a cool breeze replacing it. The air feels good flowing over me, a pleasant contrast to the chills the deluge brought. Now i have no home, not that i had much of one to start. My home was first with my parents, but the military saved me from there, giving me an escape. The military turned out to be another prison, but this prison gave me purpose. A purpose to shoot when told, to hit all the targets. Only these targets scream. Now all of that is behind me, i find myself once again with no purpose, no real home. With this in mind, i begin to wander once again. As i walk pangs of hunger strike me again and again, my last meal being a sandwhich three days ago. Even though my stomach calls out urgently, my top priority remains a change of clothes. Wearing my military uniform among the trunco without a gun is not the best of situations. The shopkeeps so far have turned me away, looks of disgust plastered on their features, green eyebrows scrunched together with hate. Now that i am at their mercy, i should feel remorse for what i have done to them, rather than a stirring hate. As i am turned out of yet another rundown shop, i notice a group of three men lounging at the street corner, all eyes on me. I begin to walk, hoping they follow, and lady luck blesses me once again. The three men follow me down a deserted street, open malevolence clear in their eyes now.
"hey you!"
I stop.
"Yeah, you, we have some business with you"
As i turn, i spot the speaker. He is the man in front, most likely the leader of the little gang. He stands in a relaxed slouch, obviously sure of himself, while the one to his direct left is a little more than tense. While the uppity one gives me a death stare, the third member of the group looks on nervously, the least threatening of all.
"Come on man, let's just kill the bastard! He's clearly a-"
The tense one is cut off by the leader,
"Not yet, i want some fun with this one."
With a grin on his face, the leader mosies on towards me as the rest of the group follows.
"Hey buddy, what brings you here?"

"obviously not your looks, or..."
wrinkling my nose,
"your hygeine."

the smirk dissapears from his face, replaced by a scowl.

"alright friend, we'll deal with you like we did your comrade, slow and painful."
waiting for my response, he reaches into his jacket.

"if you think i care about that, think again. i just killed the rest of my squad."
Open surprise turns to hate, the leader's body stiffens, his hand still inside the jacket.
"well aren't you just a one of a kind son of a-"
OOF!
I withdraw my fist from his stomach, and with the other grab for his jacket. Wrenching my arm backwards, i pull the object he had been reaching for from his grasp. He holds on tighter than i expected, and with a roar, he pulls the exposed handgun back from me, and aims it at my chest.

"go ahead kill me, i am done witht this life anyway!"
in the moment, i found what i wanted.
a release.
"come on you big oaf! just do it!"

As he begins to comply, a shape darts out in front. Green hair fills my sight, level with my eyes even though i am on one knee.
"get out of the way you punk! he is one of them!"
The girl in front of me does not budge, without words she clearly makes her stance obvious.
"FINE! have it you way you mute maggot!"
As they leave, she turns to me, gray eyes locking into mine. I stare back, my serious composition broken by my postition on the floor, and the horrid sounds my starved stomach makes.





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