Part 5?
Reading Room?
I am walking through the dark alley. Once I get to the office building, I open my briefcase and pull out my laptop and some explosives. I program the detonator, put my laptop away, and slip inside. I go from floor to floor, placing the explosives in their strategically planned spots. The air is thick, and it almost hurts me to breathe. It gets so difficult to breathe that I start to get dizzy. I find the back exit again and escape the building. Once I am outside, I breathe in the cool, fragrant air. I turn to fire an order at Schuderich, but for the first time that night I realize I am alone. I continue on to the waiting car, and drive to a different building. I stroll up to the front doors and punch in the entry code. Taking the usual route, I get up to the roof and find the waiting helicopter. When I get in, I start having trouble breathing again. I give the pilot the directions and he follows them. In five minutes, I find myself hovering above the office building. My briefcase is beside me and I pick it up. I'm almost hyperventilating now. I pull out the detonator, and as I push the button, the body of the helicopter seems to melt. Suddenly I find myself in the office hallway, fire billowing not ten feet away from me on all sides. I feel the intense heat. Suddenly the screams start. Tortured, pain-stricken moans of agony. I clasp my hands over my ears, but despite this, the screams seem to get louder. And less distant. That's when I look up and see the source of the agonizing screams. They're heading toward me. Walking through the inferno as if it were nothing but air. I fumble for the gun in my pocket. My hands are shaking so violently that I can barely hold it. I steady myself and aim the gun at them. Standing there in the hall, facing the result of my actions, I just can't find the courage to pull the trigger. I feel something wrap around my legs and I look down to see burnt, charred, blistered hands. And arms. Connected to a person. A deafening gunshot rings out and- -I wake up, my legs tangled in the sheets. Panting, I reach for my glasses on the bedside table. I put them on and look at the clock. The soft red glow of the digital readout tells me that it's only one AM. Only one hour later. One hour that felt like a lifetime to me. I can only imagine how hellish the rest of the night will be. I feel something trickle down my forehead. Sweat, I think. I wipe my forehead with a clammy hand. The gentle glow of the moon seeps through the half-open blinds. When I pull my hand away, I notice that I have a dark stain on my fingertips. I look at it curiously and recognize the crimson stain of blood. I'm bleeding? Why? Curious to investigate, I swing my long legs out of the bed and plant my feet on the floor. Strangely enough, I'm still fully dressed. I stumble across the room to the light switch. The antique full-length mirror in the corner of my bedroom reveals the answer. I have a multitude of bleeding cuts on my face and scalp. In horror, I look down. My white shirt has red blotches all over it, and the blood is seeping through my torn blazer. There are warm stains on my pantlegs. The blood soaks onto the dark cloth. It drips from me onto the clean white carpet. I look back at my bed to see bloodstains on the sheets. And then I see them beside me. The people I killed in the explosion. And they're all holding long, blood-covered knives in their charred hands. The expressions of agony have been permanently molded onto their destroyed faces, grotesque reminders of my actions. I watch in horror as my blood drips onto the white floor, turning it a deep blood-red. All I can do is scream as my blood pours out of me, drips off the glistening knives, staining my bedroom floor.
Comments, criticism, flames? They all belong to Sumire
Part 5?
Reading Room?