Young Writers Society

Riley and Alis quickly broke into a fight over to my left. Whereas I had taken cover as Marcello released rounds of fire onto my position. I swore as I dived behind another wall, the debris of brick shooting up about me. Two other Spec Ops had taken aim my way as the other four engaged in hand-to-hand combat near Riles.

I took aim down the sight of my M16 and fired multiple bursts into one of the Spec Ops men. He dropped his handgun and staggered back as the high-velocity led pierced through his torso, momentarily he let out a cry of pain. I turned my attention to the other Spec Ops, saving Marcello for last. I fired more bursts but only managed to cut him down at his knees. He cried in pain but carried on shooting my way. I cursed and went around for another shot taking him out with a threesome of bullets between his eyes.

Marcello had gained ground on my position. I thought it would be too easy, aiming at him with my M16, my sweaty index finger on the trigger, ever-so careful. I fired but the gun just clicked. Out of ammo, this was a good time to swear. I threw the gun away from me and took out the shotgun, but by the time I'd pumped it Marcello was already near enough for hand-to-hand combat. He kicked the gun away from my hands and I flung to the side with it. He stood over me as I tried to regain my bearings. He pulled out a knife and as he went to stab me my reflexes shoved my arm in the way of the attack. The cold metal of the blade pierce straight through my left forarm and I let out a yurn of pain.

"Haha, the Reg Carter," He smirked, "Not so tough now, are you? After all this time."

"Arghhh, F-F@*% you!" I roared, kicking him away and punching him right across the jaw, the bruising pain in my knuckles and arms was ignored and I carried on punching him, without mercy. He took most of them well but his face became disfigured. He kicked me off of him angrily.

I went for the shotgun, eagerly, but Marcello was quick on my heels. He kicked me hard in the back of my leg and I collapsed over myself two-fold. I cried out again and Marcello looked at me, "Stop cryin' you girls blouse. Your sister didn't even complain this much."

That was all it took. One talk of my sister. The anger bubbled up inside me and I shouted at him evily, "You dare!" I grabbed his trousers and ripped him back to the floor. His neck came in contact with some brick debris and he cried out as it broke into his flesh and his blood spilled out across the pavement. I went for the shotgun once more but this time had it. He was bent over, his hand pressed with pressure against his neck. I kicked him onto the ground so he was facing me and watched him suffer momentarily before grinning. The pain of the deep cut of the knife didn't hurt anymore, the surroundings were silent. It was just his agony. The asthetically pleasing sight of him bleeding to death.

"Now you really will be a ghost," I snarled, lifting the shotgun and securing it against my shoulder. It boomed as I pulled the trigger and bullets scattered from the barrel. The high speed shells ripped apart Marcello's flesh and all that remains is a bloody mess.

Suddenly I'm back in the real world, I walk over to Riley in the others and overhear the end of the conversation. I'm bleeding and in pain but it doesn't matter. I'd finally killed that person who'd ruined my life. I spat and looked at Alis' injured body.

"Let 'er die." I walk inside to attend my wounds.