Genkora
Frog blast the vent core!
- Reaction score
- 92
Terrance looked up at the bombers flying. He smiled to himself, thinking about all the chaos that was about to unravel somewhere far from here, he loved it, cherished it, ever since he was in the militia. The feeling of a bullet piercing your flesh, the adrenaline pumping, and the only thought on the verge of death is to keep going, to destroy, to annihilate the enemy. The feeling of skulls crunching under his boot, he remembers it all and smiles. The stray grenade, whizzing pass his head, the scream and cries of the enemy, the trickle of blood as he fills the enemy with metal.
There was nothing better. Until the day they removed him from the militia, these are dangerous times, they said. We can’t have someone like you among our ranks, you might lose something. My mind, he thought. They meant my mind. He smiled to himself, and looked back up at the bombers. He remembered he had once been shot, right below his ribs. The pain, the feeling, he had never felt more alive than on the verge of death! It was chaos; that was what he desired.
The first subject was a promising one. Janus thought. He would do anything, so long as I promised him the pain of near death. So long as I assured him he would be allowed to blow holes through enemy after enemy. Humans are very strange in that sense, that they can be so different from one another. Subjects like him are rare, anything I want, and all I have to do is hand them a gun. The crazier they come, the harder they die. It is my belief that sanity and pain are inversely proportionate. The saner you are, the less pain it takes to kill you. Yes, those corporate pigs who used me didn’t take much to kill. Just a single shot. Now my first subject, you could have ripped his heart out and removed his legs, he would still be trying to kill you. They certainly are rare.
So here I lay dying, blood spilling out, the pain seems so vague, so surreal, like I don’t even feel it. I think I could still destroy a few more lives before I go.
There was nothing better. Until the day they removed him from the militia, these are dangerous times, they said. We can’t have someone like you among our ranks, you might lose something. My mind, he thought. They meant my mind. He smiled to himself, and looked back up at the bombers. He remembered he had once been shot, right below his ribs. The pain, the feeling, he had never felt more alive than on the verge of death! It was chaos; that was what he desired.
The first subject was a promising one. Janus thought. He would do anything, so long as I promised him the pain of near death. So long as I assured him he would be allowed to blow holes through enemy after enemy. Humans are very strange in that sense, that they can be so different from one another. Subjects like him are rare, anything I want, and all I have to do is hand them a gun. The crazier they come, the harder they die. It is my belief that sanity and pain are inversely proportionate. The saner you are, the less pain it takes to kill you. Yes, those corporate pigs who used me didn’t take much to kill. Just a single shot. Now my first subject, you could have ripped his heart out and removed his legs, he would still be trying to kill you. They certainly are rare.
So here I lay dying, blood spilling out, the pain seems so vague, so surreal, like I don’t even feel it. I think I could still destroy a few more lives before I go.
Well, this is a sort of narrative summery from a part of a novel I have been writing. Sometimes I write parts out of order and rework them in later just to keep things from getting boring. If anyone remembers, I posted something a kind of long time ago from the same novel, the one about artificial life. Janus is an A.I. by the way.
