28 May, 2012

Flash Fiction: Final Moments

The guns swamp triumphs over the mediaeval alien. He stood in silence without a flinch to his name. His body heat escaping through the wounds left by the lead, some of which ricocheted off the armor.

Few men injured, they continued to fire at the knight with the same results. He began to charge at them, limping with every step. The soldiers, with guns reloaded, readied their aim at the assailant.

“Hold your fire,” The commander said.

The soldiers remained still. The knight continued to charge forward.

“Heathens, be gone,” He gasped, taking one big swing with his blade.

The swing was not a sharp and precise crescent from the role-playing games or fencing bouts the soldiers were more familiar with.  The frontlines were able to doge the attack unscathed.

The knight stumbled forward onto his knees, gasping for quick breaths. The commander began to walk toward him with the soldiers creating a corridor. Rain ran over his worn torn face. He looked down at the knight who was bleeding from the bullet wounds.

He pointed his gun towards the warrior then withdrew it. With him dead, the commander turn to his platoon, “Good work, men!”

It took a wave of salutes for the ‘game over’ message to appear onscreen. Continue? The player was not going to take anymore BS missions and stormed off from the arcade.

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