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Meandering thoughts of a Bay Area college student… be prepared for some bipolar vocabulary

Les femmes fatales

You’re going to die, soldier. Face it. You’re never going to leave this hell hole.

Outnumbered and outgunned, we propped up several of the desks on their sides as the class screamed, lying on the floor. Commotion, commotion. Some prick threw a smoke canister into the large classroom. This mission was all political, and we were going to pay with our lives. I shot a burst of two rounds into a Korean soldier. He fell clutching his thigh, wincing.

“Don’t kill anyone! Stick to the mission!” yelled Marcus as he shot another leg. “You retard!” he yelled at another enemy soldier. He fired a second burst straight into an arm.

“Bite me!” I shouted back. I know! I know, dammit. I ducked back down to reload and Vincent took my spot. He placed a well aimed burst into a foot.

This mission was all politics, orchestrated in conjunction with Washington, the E.U., … and the leader of N. Korea himself. Ironic. This was all for show… but not for us. Politics and sanity flew out the window. We couldn’t kill any North Korean soldiers, students, or anyone else that got in our way.

The gunfire picked up again and in panic, a girl got up and ran for the door… screaming at the top of her lungs. Eddie got up and yelled. He cursed.”Crazy-assed bitch! Get down woman! GET DOW–” crack! The Delta fell in slow motion, arching back, as dramatic as ever. Eddie laid there, face up… speechless as he stroked his bloody throat in disbelief. Scarlet started to flow out of his neck and soak into his school uniform. Eddie, as motionless as ever, stared at the ceiling.

“Cover me!” yelled Joshua. He started crawling to Eddie’s body. That was when he bit it. A bullet into an arm. Another into his ear. He swore and yelled out in pain. A final round ripped into his shoulder and pierced his heart.

“We’re getting the hell out of here! Suppressive FIRE!” boomed Vincent. That’s the cue for everyone to fire all they had into the doorway to force the opposition to remain behind cover. I fired several rounds into the large panoramic window behind me. Marcus dove through the cracked window. It shattered as his body flew through. The second he declared outside to be safe, Vincent followed, shooting as he went while I continued suppressive fire. Once outside, he shot into the doorway as I made my move. Reminded me of a game of leap frog. I reloaded and made to follow when a student suddenly tried to rugby-tackle me to the floor. I kicked him away and made my clumsy escape.

We ran. We. Seriously. Ran. It rained lead. Specks of dirt and gravel accompanied our footsteps. And then BAM! We found ourselves at a parking lot. North Korea isn’t known for its cars, and many of its roads are empty save for an occasional bus. In the parking lot was a lone black limo with its engines on idle. We made a mad dash towards it. Breathless, I got the door open and Marcus got inside. Big mistake.

Inside the limo were the craziest people I would ever meet.


The people vital to this story Rashika (far left), Cassandra (far right), Marcus (second to the right)

The girl in pink pulled out a revolver and pointed it directly at Marcus.

“Drive,” she said in an icy voice, and the limo accelerated. The femmes fatales held us at gunpoint. For the first time in my life, I was resigned.

Our cello cases were still in the classroom.



Filed under: General, old, unfinished stories

One Response

  1. map0wt0fu says:

    HAHAHAHAHAHA, I like the ending, and how I’m already in the limo 😀

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