Shadow Of The Nightshade

Reconnaissance.

Finally there was silence everywhere, leaving me wondering if I had cleared this area. Sighing, I let my strained muscles relax, feeling the chill from the raindrops that fell on my eyelashes—if I hadn't mentioned this before, it's raining.

I closed my eyes and relished the feeling.

Hearing the familiar click of a gun being cocked, my eyes snapped open, beads of water running down my face as I stared at the man in front of me. An agent with shaky hands, pointing a gun in my direction.

Turning around and paying no attention to him, I shoved my hands into my pockets, about to walk away.

'Stay where you are!' He shouted, his voice shaky.

I started walking, unconcerned about the fool with the gun.

'I'll shoot.' I could almost hear the gun shaking in his hands. I was tempted to laugh.

I spun to face him. 'Go ahead.'

And with that he shot.
But his accuracy was off by a mile—if I was the intended target.

Now I laughed, a cool chilling cackle that I imagined all the antagonists in horror movies used. I watched the man's face pale and I took a large step towards him.

I walked forward once and he backed away two steps.

I kept walking towards him until he backed up against the wall. He started trembling, fearing his imminent death apparently. Easily, I took the gun from his quivering hands and played with it.

'You are really stupid,' placing my hand on the trigger, I shot five times

Watching his body slid down the wall, I narrowed my eyes at the five bodies I thought I saw squirming. Never take chances.

'There's one bullet left.' I said after I confirmed that there were no other survivors. I tossed him the gun and continued walking away, a little annoyed that he had wasted so much of my time.

When I was far off in the distance I heard a gun go off and the distinctive thud of a body falling to the ground.

He killed himself.

I had sort of hoped that he would have chosen to keep on living, but human minds had always been fragile, it was expected.

More blood on my hands. I kept walking in the direction Slade went when I last saw him.

Most would think that I have pretty sadistic tendencies for a ten year old, but he made his choice. If he had continued living he would've been traumatized by his past as the only survivor. His fellow comrades had died right before his eyes, and he did nothing but watch.

Living through the grief and feeling that he could've done something would be too unbearable. Given how easily he did it today, he would have killed himself later on.

He had a choice.

He looked a couple years older than me—probably in his mid twenties—and he had his whole life to live. Maybe he should have thought twice before going rouge.