Chernaya Dusha

I opened my eyes to see the burning wreckage of my home. I scrambled into a sitting position and looked around. I saw Veronica lying in the middle of the ring of flame, The Man standing over her, his black armor shining in the orange light, trying to get her up. I shot up to my feet and shot his arm plate. He recoiled and looked at me. I ran at him with a new kind of rage and slammed him into the ground, smacking him in the side of the head with the handle of my revolver. He threw me off of him and scrambled to his feet.

He pulled off his helmet and looked at me. It was like I time traveled. It was David, alive and out to get me. He stared at me, waiting for me to say something. I pointed my revolver at him, and he pulled a pump shotgun off of his back, pointing it at me.

“How are you alive?!” I screamed, cocking the pistol. I wanted to kill him so badly. “I shot you in the fucking head!”

“You don’t know, do you?” he said, smirking. “I’m a super soldier, How do you think I survived to be this old in the first place? Remember when I sho-”

I fired at his chest, sending him back a bit. He recovered quickly and fired back, hitting me in my right arm, sending sparks in the air and breaking a couple of the metal plates off. I fell to the ground, dropping my revolver, and David walked over to me. When he was directly over me, I grabbed his shotgun and kicked him to the ground. I aimed the shotgun and fired it into his leg, making it erupt in iron flavored blood. He screamed and leaned down to stop the bleeding, and I smacked him in the side of the head with the stock of the rifle. As he fell, I kicked him off the side of the cathedral and followed him down the hill, getting ready to deal a deadly blow, but he rolled to the side, and I fell into a bush.

When I pulled myself out of the bush, I saw him with a pistol, pointing it at me. I charged at him, pulling a knife off of my belt and throwing it at him. It hit his stomach, making him double over, and when I reached him, I punched him in the face, hitting him down to the dirt. He mustered enough strength to kick me away and scramble against a nearby rock. He pulled his pistol off of his the ground and pointed it at me. He grunted a small laugh and cocked it. I couldn’t do anything.

He fired into my stomach, knocking me to the dirt. I reached for a nearby stone to throw at him, he shot my hand, and slowly pulled himself up. He stumbled over to me and lifted his pistol to my forehead. And without saying anything, he fired. As I slipped away, he walked away, the rain pounding on his back, silent.

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