Thursday, September 23, 2010

Death unto the innocent

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My vaporizer off of my face, sitting at the opening of the helicopter gazing out into the clear open sky, I am barley responsive to what was being said. Then an omniscient glow is seen beaming from city hall, just as my pilot had informed me, there was a riot. Such irony that such a beautiful light was being produced by something so destructive and violent. Rising to my feet I re-attach my vaporizer to my face. Hovering above the crowd in my helicopter warning them to vacate the premises and go home or deadly force will be used. There is a moment of silence… then a loud “FUCK YOU DEMON!!” is blurted out followed by a grenade launcher opening fire upon my helicopter.
My patience has been expired. The moment of fun has passed. “I want a drink and a square” are my thoughts while jumping from my helicopter and diving into the crowd like a drunken rock star into a mosh pit. Five lives are lost on impact from my blades aggravation and furry, the rest of the insolent vermin back away. Blood running from my blade like a faucet. My cold stare gazing at them ready to devour more, then swat arrives. Pussies with tear gas… Backing a way from the mob & then pushing swat team members out of my way. Going into their truck and grabbing the Gatling gun, “Everyone remain calm and return to your homes”, the S.W.A.T team leader pleads. I am done being civil with these insects. Lead rains from the multiple barrels of the weapon, flesh tearing and ripping, airing these insolent vagabonds out and shredding them to pieces. My weapon of choice as loud as my helicopter was. My shells trickling on the pavement. Screams of women and men alike begging for mercy that they will never receive and calling to a GOD they’d never seen and who had never saved them before... Why would He do it now? The sound of a sweet Massacre unrivaled by any composer, Ludwig is probably spinning is his grave. Then it ends. my ammo depleted, a few broken bodies remain, others have fled. Dropping the gun and turning to the S.W.A.T team leader and saying to him, “Now you can use your tear gas”. 

Monday, September 6, 2010

life is no Miricle.

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I can smell the perspiration on the brow of my trembling prey as I advance towards a counter where the receptionist would be stationed to sign in patients to see a doctor. There is no doctor here to treat the victims I am about to leave. How can the prey expect to over come its predator? There is no victory to be had. Death will have its perfect way... as it always does. One of the infected humans is crouched down at my feet behind the counter, I put the barrel of my AK47 to his head, he gasps and I pull my trigger. “Boom” his life, his dreams, his hopes, prayers and goals, gone that quickly – it’s magical in a way.  It’s right at this moment of my epiphany that I hear the desolate screams of a woman, with agony she screeches, “That was my BROTHER!” her hand trembling with anxiety and fear as she lifts her pistol, I raise my rifle calmly, and with cynicism I reply, “Make it mean something to me”. A wise man once said, “In order for one to appreciate Life one must first appreciate their own life”. I find flaws in that axiom.
-Adah Noir