I wrote this a while ago and i reread it and kinda liked it so i posted it, hope you like it too.
Heavy boots landed against broken pavement as the large uniformed man slowly walked down the main street of a decimated town. He couldn't imagine life there; there was no one he had seen yet. His mission was successful
"Bomb the town, there's too much unusual activity happening"
It was easy to follow the orders given by the president. It was just a tiny town in the Rockies, how many people could have possibly lived there? How many people could the bomb have killed? Anyway, the world was too overpopulated anyway, 7 billion, it was sometimes good to eliminate people, for the greater good of the rest of the world.
This is what he used to convince himself that their actions were right, he repeated it under his breath as his personal prayer. They did the right thing, this town was too out of control, and there was no place for a town that had such extraordinary occurrences
An agonized moan pierced the silent smoke filled air. The lieutenant hurried to where it was. A turn in the road and there was the source of the wail.
A young child, looked possibly to be in around 4th, maybe 5th grade, was clinging to a boy on the ground. The one sitting on his knees was wearing a blue hat with soot covering it and a few strings hanging off the top, suggesting a missing piece. Holes covered the expanse of his clothes and there were large gashes in his arms and legs, and blood dripped form his forehead, but he was oblivious to this. He was too wrapped up in the boy with massive red frizzy hair. He had missing limbs which poured blood and a hole in his stomach. His lifeless eyes told a story of a cold, cruel death.
The lieutenant froze as the boy with the hat took it off to reveal black matted hair caked in blood. He pressed the hat to the skinnier boys wounds for a few seconds, before moving the bandage to another spot. He was breathing erratically and when the Lieutenant got close enough he could hear what he was saying.
"Dammit Kyle! You promised you wouldn't die before me! You always keep your promises! Keep fighting Kyle! Keep doing it! Come back dammit! COME BACK!" he screamed. Tears poured down the black haired boys face but he didn't notice, he was trying to force all of his weight into his hands to bring life back into the red haired child.
He suddenly looked up and connected his eyes with the lieutenants "DO SOMETHING! HES DYING! HELP HIM!" but I couldn't move. He spat in disgust at him and crashes his mouth against his friend's, blowing air back into his lungs.
"FIGHT! FIGHT YOU SON OF A BITCH! FIGHT!" the last word broke as he went weak and fell onto the lifeless boy, erupting in heavy sobs. "No! NO! This can't be happening! We've gone through so much shit how can you died from a tiny bomb?! HOW!" he screamed his pain toward the sky, his blood covered lips stretched wide. The boy didn't care if anyone heard him cry, he was too distraught in his deceased friend.
"There's not many people, no one will be affected if their gone" the presidents words rang in his head. He shook himself and walked over to the sobbing boy, who had gotten himself together enough to close Kyle's eyes forever. He looked up at the lieutenant and snarled "What?"
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Stan Marsh," he picked the dead boy up and cradled him against his already blood soaked jacket.
The lieutenant sputtered at the name. Stan Marsh, one of the files he had seen too much of. That, along with three other fourth grade boys. Suddenly he remembered Stan's cries.
"KEEP FIGHTING KYLE!" Kyle, Kyle Broflovski. Another boy from the four that had been the main goal of the operation.
"If the bomb doesn't kill all of them, take them into custody, especially if it's one of the four boys we discussed" yes they talked constantly about the four incredible boys who had turned this town upside-down. They ruined it, destroyed its southern charm with wild antics and life-threatening adventures.
Looking down, he didn't see an out of control boy with the ability to destroy, he say a grieving child holding his best friend.
"Kyle, you weren't supposed to die until I did. You lied to me. You can come back, you've done it before. Cartman brought you back remember, or maybe Kenny could talk to god about it, you just have to come back."
Eric Cartman. Kenny McCormick. "Where are they, the other boys from your group?"
"Their dead, for good" he said, no emotion in his voice. He didn't care as much as he did for this boy.
The Lieutenant forced his hard shell to stay intact "You have to come with me, we will take you somepl-"
"NO! YOUR NOT TAKING ME AWAY FROM KYLE!" he said and before the older man could speak, Stan had kicked him in his crotch. When he collapsed, Stan grabbed something from his belt, but not just anything, a certain something he kept in a safe spot for easy access.
"NO!" the man coughed out.
Stan smiled "Kyle I'm coming for you," and with that, and a small flick of the finger, a bullet shot through Stan Marsh's skull. He collapsed onto the concrete, and halfway on top of the Broflovski child.
The lieutenant's eyes were wide; he didn't even bother wiping off the child's blood off his face. He stood up and walked the opposite direction of the collapsed boys.
The mission was a success, and yet never before had the lieutenant felt like such a failure.
ok i know i always write sad stories but i like it okay! Stan and Kyle are their ages in the show (9/10) and its not romance as more of a deep brotherly love and friendship. hope you liked, review please?