A/N: I had a word limit on this. It's supposed to be a short essay for school, dramatically reflecting a real, recent, horrifying event. (I totally know how to make stuff a lot less scarier than it really is!)
It was quiet. Tension danced in the air, raising the hairs on the necks of those who hid, huddled in the corners. They knew it was coming. They knew there was no escape. But they hoped. For escape. For anything.
Then it came, ripping through the air, loud and merciless. Screams followed, remaining unheard in the screech of the flying missile. Debris rained down, burying them in dust and rubble.
A single explosion followed, and then another. Silence.
The cries of wounded survivors break the silence, but there's no one to hear them.
Why?
Across the barren rubble-sprinkled fields, the tanks sat. And behind their metal walls, the predators wait for the fires to die to steal the remnants of possessions that belonged to the ones they've murdered.
