Okay, here is my story, I hope you enjoy it! ^_^. It's to large to put in one post, so I will be splitting it into two.
Hearing the rustle of footsteps behind me, I reloaded my rifle, trying to do as quietly and swiftly as possible. I whipped around but, seeing who was there, dropped my aim--- Drevin stood right there, his hands in the air, and even though he was attempting to remain calm, I could tell he grew alarmed at the scare of being shot at.
"Wouldn't shoot your own battle buddy would you?" he asked once he realized it was just me, casually placing his arms back at his sides, but I glared at him, not answering. "You seem jumpy tonight," he continued cautiously, noticing that I wasn’t in the best of moods.
"You wouldn't believe what I have seen tonight...” I finally answered, choosing my words carefully. I sat the butt of the rifle on the ground, the leaves beneath it being crushed with a muffle crackle, and I leaned on it gently. The gun was so long that it easily reached up the length of my waist. Of course, it didn’t help that I was of a fairly short stature, but it was nonetheless quite lengthy.
“What do you mean? What happened?” Drevin questioned, curiosity creeping in his voice. The leaves of the surrounding trees rustled faintly, the night breeze soothing them to sing. I cocked my head to the side, not softening my expression.
“It has to do with you, actually,” I replied slowly, letting my words and tone sink in, and when Drevin took on an expression of confusion, I gripped my rifle more tightly. He didn’t have anything to add to that, so I continued on, “We found out about an informant, Drevin. That is to say, one informing about us to the Reds, not the other way around.”
“But what does that have to do with me?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“The exact identity of the snitch hasn’t been determined, though there are a few suspects. We know this person would have to frequently take leave to exit the camp, and that he or she would be in the First Brigade, Twenty-Second Infantry. Our section.”
“Where is this going...?”
“You know where this is going, Drevin. Don’t act stupid,” I snapped, my discourse short and clipped like usual, eyes flashing. “We know it’s you.”
“Wha-what?” he stammered. “I would never betray us! I swear, I haven’t spilled anything, not a word. What about the other offenders you mentioned?”
“There are just two others, though you are the prime suspect. Orders were to shoot all of them without trial in case there were more than one. Tonight.”
“But Dakota-- you know I wouldn’t do anything like that! You know me! Come on, we’re battle buddies! Can’t you put in a word in for me...can’t you try to tell them that I’m innocent? They’d believe you, I’m sure of it.”
“Question is, I’m not sure what I can believe. Ever since the world had split off into various states began to fight amongst each other, it has nearly impossible to trust anyone out of our respectable Color. But now, I can’t even have that comfort? I have to worry about whether or not I can believe what my own comrades tell me? I thought I knew you, yes, but I’m not so positive about that anymore. What do you do, anyway, all those times you’re gone, hm?”
“I...” he trailed off for a moment, before flashing back to the present. “I am not a spy! I tell you, I would never trick the Greens!”
“See-- you can’t even tell me where you’ve been going! Maybe if you told us, your life would be spared, but you can’t even come up with a lie. Not time, at least, now that we’ve finally caught you. Just now, you were returning from where, exactly?” I raised my hand in the air, the one not holding my rifle, in the air with incredulous skepticism. How could he so bold as this-- didn’t he know when he was beat?
“Dakota...I haven’t been doing what you think I’ve been doing.” His tone now was calm and flat, as if he was trying to subdue my anger.
“Do I need to ask you again? Then what exactly have you been doing‽” I locked my jaw and strengthened the grip on my gun. At this point, it didn’t matter to me how long we had been friends-- I would shoot him, if it had to come to that.
“I can’t tell you. I wish I could, but I just can’t. Please, trust me on this one. It’s for the betterment of everybody.” Finally, he seemed to realize how grave my outrage was, and he licked his lips, growing nervous.
“Oh really, then why can’t you tell the reason for that? Does it has to do with Green material that I haven’t been cleared to know yet?” I asked, rolling my eyes. I had practically top clearance, so I highly doubted that was the case.
“Ah...no. That’s not why. It’s...it’s nothing. Please, trust me on this one.”
“I can’t, Drevin, you know that. The orders have already been ruled out. You are to be shot on sight, and I’m already bending the mandate by talking to you here.” I lifted my rifle again, and I already knew that everything was all set to fire it.
“I am going to shoot you, now,” I told him calmly, not waiting for him to continue to argue, with the same light air a mother would have used to tell her child that she was going out to pick up some groceries.
Miles qui non sentire est miles qui exsuperare, or A soldier who does not feel is a soldier who succeeds. That was our army’s motto, and was what I had always stood by. To forget about it now, just because of a friends --- a former friend, that is --- would be counterproductive. To not shoot Drevin now just because we had laughed together, ate together, fought together...I couldn’t do that, especially me. There has always been a prejudice against women in the upper military levels, and to let him go now only tear down everything I had worked myself up for.
“I have to.”
I narrowed my eyes and ran my tongue across the front of my teeth. My hands were steady---they never shook, not even when my body was practically bursting with adrenaline, not even when I was scared out of my wits. Miles qui non sentire... I recited in my head, focusing the crosshairs on Drevin, who lifted his hands on top of his head and turned his back away from me. It was as if he accepted his fate now, as if whatever he had done to betray us was worth it...
It’s for the betterment of everyone, he had mentioned. What was that even supposed to mean? I shook my head, both physically and mentally, ridding myself of thoughts that were distracting me. That’s just what they, the Reds, would want, for me to hesitate. Well, I’m not going to give them that satisfaction.
My chin began to jut out---a subconscious habit of mine when I concentrate---and I closed one eye, the other focusing on my target. Yes, my target. He was the enemy now, and didn’t even deserve a name anymore.
“Well, you always were a good soldier.”
I smirked at his last words, not bothering to answer as I had already wasted enough time. I didn’t need him tell me that; I already knew I was a ‘good’ soldier-- I was an excellent one, actually, as I didn’t feel emotions. I wouldn’t allow myself to feel any emotions. My finger rested on the trigger, now warm despite the frigid weather and its metal material, and before my hesitation would transform into a change of mind, I pulled it, and didn’t even flinch as rifle sounded, its echo reverberating off the trees and throughout the glen.
His body hung there for a moment, as if it couldn’t believe what I had just done, and then crumpled to the ground without the elegance it had once been filled with while alive. Not lingering on what I had just done, I turned around and headed back towards camp.
The cleanup crew could bury the corpse later.
Three days had passed by before the woman arrived.
The drama about the informant had been swiftly dealt with, and I, along with the other soldier who terminated the two other suspects, received medals for our “bravery” and “honor,” and we were even bumped up to the rank of Private FIrst Class. I accepted it with indifference, though, just as I did with everything else. The medallion was merely more cold metal to finger, and the speech our commander presented in our praise was full with hollow words and meant nothing to me. My eyes were glazed over, refusing to exude any emotions, the whole time, and they continued to stay that way. That is, until the woman came.
She was beautiful, as some would have described her, and exotic with her large hoop earrings and vividly colored skirts that seemed to flow with her each time she took a step. It was difficult to distinguish which Color she come from—it was possible that she was one of the few who didn't associate themselves with any of then, though those people were rare. I never possessed the luxury of owning such items, but I continued on with my business without much more than a brief pause to make sure she wasn’t dangerous. The other male soldiers, however, did not have either the decor or control to cease their shameless ogles. Most women would have relished these stares, or at the very least flushed with embarrassment, but she was different. Instead, she continued walking in her determined pace.
“Do you know someone of authority I can speak to?” Her voice revealed some sort of foreign accent and was halting, as if she wasn’t quite sure what about the mechanics of English, and it took me a moment to realize she was talking to me. I glanced up hastily when I realized there was no one else nearby she could have spoken to, and paused, not quite sure what she was asking. She must have realized that I, being one of the only women on duty, would at least have given her respect.
“I need to talk to someone of authority. It is about Drevin Nikoli. There is a mistake-- a mistake,” she repeated herself when she sensed my confusion, and although she tried to keep her voice calm, I noticed desperation seeping into her tone.
Drevin. Drevin Nikoli. Who is she, anyway, and what does she have to do with him?
“There has been no mistake. He was convicted of treason,” I answered, clenching my jaw and trying to keep from snapping at her.
“No! You must understand. Drevin, he did not do any treason. He is innocent,” she pleaded. The word “treason” seemed to be foreign to her, and it came out like “treez-sahn.”
"No, he not. Everything pointed toward him, and we cannot take any chances," I told her, narrowing my eyes. Why was she insisting that Drevin wasn't a criminal? It's not like anything could have been done about him.
"What about the trial? I must be there for him, to defend him, I– I have proof!"
"There will be no trial. Drevin Nikoli is dead," I told her bluntly, and I could feel my voice begin to falter. No, I most certainly am not going to seem weak in front of this woman. Miles qui non sentire est miles qui exsuperare."He is dead," I repeated, swallowing, then before she could say anything else,
"I killed him."
The woman's jaw dropped, for once at lost for any words. I turned my cheek the other way, feeling myself grow warm. Why was my body acting this way? Drevin meant nothing to me. Absolutely nothing to me. We were just friends, until...until he turned on us. Obviously that woman's "proof" would have been faulty; there's no other explanation for it.
"Is there a problem, ma'am?" a deep voice asked, and my head jerked up, surprised. It was Sergeant Harmar, probably checking up to see why a strange woman had just entered camp. He was probably the least formal out of all the senior authority here, and one of the youngest as well, and most people didn’t take him completely seriously unless we were actually in battle.
“No, everything is all right, sir,” I answered, stiffening my body to a salute. “This lady was just about to leave.”
“You...you killed him? No trial?” the woman asked with horror, switching her gaze between me and Sergeant.
“Miss, three days ago, three privates were convicted of treason against the Green Color and were immediately terminated,” Sergeant answered her, obviously realizing that she had something to do with Drevin or one of the other two that were killed. “These days, we don’t have time for trials, there are just too many other issues to deal with. We can’t take any chances. I’m sorry for your loss, miss, but you must understand what it is like.”
“But Drevin wasn’t even doing anything close to treason, I promise! What proof do you have against him?”
“Former Private Nikoli was conducting suspicious activities with a refusal to explain them,” I answered her formally. “He was given many chances to tell us what he had been doing, but refused to take up on any of them.”
“But...I loved him. He loved me-- we loved each other,” she finally told us, her voice considerably quieter. Her eyes began to water, and she paused, wiping away a tear.
You were...in love? Having an affair...?
I widened my eyes, swallowing again. Drevin, he couldn’t have...he couldn’t have been having an affair with this woman, couldn’t he? There’s got to be a better reason why he didn’t want to explain what he was doing. Other soldiers hired p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.e.s all the time; it wasn’t exactly a huge secret. So why had he been trying to hide it himself? She had to be lying...
“That’s impossible,” I replied, filling my voice with as much coldness as I could, “Drevin would not have died just so he wouldn’t have to admit to engaging with a village w.h.o.r.e.” I knew I was being harsh, and perhaps I should have left my emotions out of this, like I always did, but this, this had just gone too far.
The woman flinched, but didn’t back away. “We were going to marry,” she revealed softly, almost more to herself than to us. “He gave me a ring, I have it on right now...” She lifted her hand, flashing her gold ring.
“We don’t care about your silly rings, miss. Former Private Nikoli is dead, atraitor, and an a.s.s.h.o.l.e,” I shot back hotly, and as soon as the words burst out of my mouth, I knew I shouldn’t have said them. But did I regret it? No, it was certainly worth it. Sergeant Harmar blinked in surprise; no one had ever seen me this angry before, not even when the other male soldiers used to mock me for being a woman-- I had made sure of that.
“Private Silva, perhaps you should go back to your dormitory to calm down,” Sergeant ordered, albeit a bit tentatively, and I stalked off, heading towards my bunk. “Miss, there is nothing that can be done for Private Nikoli. I do think it would be best for you to return where you came from at once,” he added when he thought I was out of earshot. “Drevin is a bit of a touchy subject-- we all thought he was dating Private Silva here.”
I paused in my step, fluttering my eyes and taking a deep breath. Sometimes having a lax sergeant was pleasant, especially when it meant people were able to get away with more than a normal sergeant would have allowed, but in other instances his leaking inexperience would be absolutely irritating. Like now.
“Drevin. Nikoli. Was not. My ‘boyfriend,’” I told them, trying to keep myself from creating an outburst-- that was the last thing I needed . “He was a traitor,” I repeated, not caring that my voice was beginning to crack, “and I am glad to have been the one to have killed him.” And with that, I turned around without so much as giving that woman another glance, storming back to quarters.
Miles qui non sentire est miles qui exsuperare. Miles qui non sentire est miles qui exsuperare. Miles qui non sentire est miles qui exsuperare. I am not going to cry. Not in front of everyone else, not in front of anyone, and not in front of even myself. Drevin Nikoli was a renegade and a disgrace to the Greens. That is all. He was not my boyfriend. This is the military. We do not have romantic relations amongst each other, I insisted, not caring that I was beginning to repeat myself. I just had to keep telling myself this-- to drown out Sergeant’s sympathy, to forget the woman’s tears, and most importantly, to be rid of my memories of how Drevin used to be.
He means nothing to me, and he certainly never did. We were just friends, and that was merely it. “Battle buddies,” as he put it. I would never have betrayed my Color for something as frivolous as him. I don’t care what Sergeant Harmar assumes, what that woman thinks, or even what everyone else believes.
A soldier who does not feel is a soldier who succeeds.
Miles qui non sentire est miles qui exsuperare.
I am a good soldier, after all.
An excellent one.
Sorry ,I took so long to reply!(I was camping for the last two weeks and the next two weeks I am going camping again.)
That was actually really good! I loved the dialouge and the . . .mysteryiousness. The writing flowed right from the prompt and never changed a drastic pace in storyline. There was something familiar about the name 'Drevin Nikoli' hmm From C.O.D Modern Warfare perhaps?
To kk2013: Flesh fell away in large chunks as we estinguished the flames that had engulfed him. The man in front of me screamed in pain as one qustion ran through my mind . . .
"'Mind babies' That is what we call them. They are clones filled wither another person's memories ," The annoying tour guide told us as he showed us the strange cloning equipment. . .
That prompt was for epicllyawesome
Is it ok if I give something . . . .different? This isn't really a normal prompt ,but it should help with your writers block.Why do you write?Answer this question in essay form and it should strenghten your writing ,make you want to write more without writers block!If it doesn, work or you don't that type of prompt just reply back to me.
Hey, just letting you know that I haven't forgotten about this. I've been on vacation without computer access, but I'll get to work on my story now that I'm back.
Oh my gosh, I have the exact same problem as you and its stopped me from writing 2 books. Do you have any ideas on what to do about it?
Oh, just to clearify, I meant the problem of going back to edit rather then continuing on the story, so it takes too long.
hey, this looks like loads of fun, can I join?
Weaknesses: Unable to think of suitable endings, straying from the topic, putting too much detail in one sentence
Strengths: My characters feel as realistic as possible, I love describing a scene
I just replied, you can't see my name, my computer had a glitch. I forgot to mention in my weaknesses that I also suffer self-doubt. Do you have any tips to try and overcome that?
Weakness: I never have the confidence to finish a story over 1000 words. Strength: I like to write romantic thrillers that end in a cliff hanger.
Here is your prompt Daesha:Years and millions of dollars were spent on the trivial pursuit of my son. I had to make a choice now . . .
I think this is a wonderful idea. Do you think you could give me a prompt, too?
Weaknesses: I overplan everything I write--to the point where I feel constricted by them. Whenever I feel stumped, I drop the story completely.Strengths: I love to come up with plot twists and unexpected endings. I can be fairly descriptive with appearances and such.
Thanks, Matt! :D and haha, really? I've never played COD or heard of a similar bame before...
your welcome !!:] do you want another prompt? And yes Drevin Nikoli (Ironic ,Huh) is the good guy informant in the first Call of Duty that they rescue.
The man in front of me was dead. I could see it in his eyes and the pigment of his skin. Blood had covere his body and he smelled rotten. Though I didn't quiet underastand why he was walking -No - not walking- He was shambling getting closer and closer to me . . .
that was for silently rising
She wouldn't be able to hide it for much longer. Her stomach was expanding more and more each day and if they found out . . .