I Stumble

December 2, 2011
By dybdal BRONZE, Ashburn, Virginia
dybdal BRONZE, Ashburn, Virginia
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I stumble, barely catching myself on the railing in front of me. Just seconds had passed from the time when I had learned of Jake’s death, my oldest friend gone in the blink of an eye. All those raids, all those battles, all for naught. I must proceed with the plan, I cannot fail, and all of Valhalla depends on me, all those people living in fear. The government may have kept out technology. But soon, with my lead, the rebels will take hold of the government building and free all those who want us to advance past the times we live in now.

First we must do what those before us could never do; we must kill the prime minister. Evil as it may seem to those who were born and taught not to doubt anything the prime minister says, even if it may cause you harm. I was born into a house much likes theirs, worship of the prime minister was ordered and followed. All those who did not worship him were given lashings, as many as it took for them to bow. Their reach stretched across the known world, all those who aspired to continue the teachings or inventing of new technology that could possibly further the worlds knowledge were taken. They were accused of treachery, when really they were being slaughtered to put a halt to Valhalla’s technology.

Most were content at first, but soon small pockets of resistance formed, each larger than the other. Last night the largest group, 200 men, invaded the storehouse where the scientists were held. Leading the raid was my closest friend, Jake. We’d fought together since we were kids, but that’s all changed now. This is the final battle, the onetime where we may be able to free ourselves from their control. But with this turn I fear the time must take place sooner or there might be more unrest among the troops and we will soon have deserters. The chances of our success are very unlikely, my troops have little training and only some have even a little experience. They are veterans, trained for years, and they are many. But we will not stop fighting; we will not be the final end to the resistance.

It’s the time, now is the time. I rush across the rooftop, my troops are preparing beneath me. As I give the final call they all stop, my voice echoes across the city from which we have our base. It is time; the time to reclaim all that has been taken from us. We march, one by one; I’m in the lead on my horse the brave face I put on does not reflect the feelings that I am actually feeling

I trained myself not to feel the pain of losing a friend, in this business that happens all too often. I am the last of the original 3, I am the last Kakashi. The leaders of the resistance all had come to fear us. But with fear comes enemies, fighting amongst ourselves we were weak. Kitty was the first to go, followed by Aaron, the Reaper as he liked to be called. At first I didn’t understand why I was the last one left alive, maybe it was because I was the weakest of the three. I’ll never know, because now I have to do what we all set out to do.

Our march slows, I increase the pace. We had camped close; knowing that if the initial small scale sneaky invasions didn’t work then it would have to come to this. I was hoping I would be able to lean on someone this battle, in order to hide my nervousness and mask the fear.

Before us, on a plain field open to sight, we wait. Waiting for night to fall and the dawn to awake, the perfect time to attack. The horn blower sends the signal, we charge across the plain into the walls of the government. We are met by machines made by those who inhabit the building, explosions sound men scream; the sounds of the battle deafen my ears. I lead the elite group into the building; our job is simple, kill the prime minister.

The entire building is white, no blackness penetrates the light, creating an almost aura around the halls. Officials run at the sight of us, never before have we been this close, I allow myself a small glimmer of hope. Maybe, for once, our operation will work, we will finally be free. This small thought pushes me forward pushing myself; I am quickly separated from the group. I go up the stairs faster and faster, pausing only to notice the lack of opposition. The guards must all be concentrated on the fighting outside, I tell myself this over and over again but the more I think it the less sure I am.

I can hear the skirmishing outside now, that tells me I am close to the roof, close to my prey. One flight separates me and him, my oldest enemy, we had only met once before and I was nowhere near as prepared as I am now. I reach the door, it creaks open. I enter, quietly and slowly so as to not raise suspicions.

The prime minister stands there on the edge surveying the battlefield watching the death and slaughter occur with a smug smile on his face. He turns, his pale white face and cold eyes burn holes into my face. His expression is one of amusement.

“Well well well”, he says in a cold uncaring voice,” there you are bartimeaus; I was worried you wouldn’t find me. I have a surprise for you.”

I slowly walk over to the edge, cautiously, and look down onto the field.

There is no more fighting, we have been broken. The call has been made, the day has been lost. I shrink, my whole world collapses and I can’t breathe. All of the dead will die in vain, I cannot do this alone. We are doomed. Just as this final thought enters my head I turn to the door. The door is shook off its hinges; my team emerges with dead guards and all.

The day is ours; I turn to finish off the prime minister. But something stops me dead; he is smiling at me with a smug look. I look to my team and see nothing but shameful and hostile looks. I realize the magnitude that I have been betrayed, I cannot face the entirety of all that currently oppose me. I back onto the edge, barely catching myself before I fall into the waiting fields.

“There’s nowhere to run, your world is dead to you, this is your final demise,” said the prime minister.

The author's comments:
This is a work of fantasy fiction.

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