To the soldier, the mission was simple. Mission orders were exchanged. He was to sneak into the military base on the colony Lagrange Point One, attach the explosives to key locations without detection and escape from the compound unnoticed. The military outpost was controlled by an organization that assembled gigantic metal war machines known as, Mobile Suits. These enormous machines were like a suit of armor except they were built and piloted by man to withstand the harsh reality of war. Surrounding the military facility were simple apartment settings for the families of soldiers. There were to be no civilian casualties, the mission objectives stated. The soldier was trained from as far back as he could remember to be perfect, to obey his every order without question. He was a machine with no emotion, for he buried his emotions for seven long years. To him? Yes, it was simple.
He stood silently in the shadow of night his eyes aglow from the fires that ravaged the military compound. One by one the detonators activated with a small click, releasing an explosive discharge that rained fire and metal from its targets. The boy stared with cold cobalt eyes. Patrolling Mobile Suits bent down and seized handfuls of dirt, tossing it onto the blazing buildings. They surrounded the undamaged structures but as they reformed their positions, suits from every direction became incinerated with white flames, toppling over, enveloping the station in death. Pilots ablaze fell from their metallic steeds, all the while the boy clad in black shorts and evergreen tank top observed the little distopia surrounding him. Apartments stood huddled around the grounds, watching the base's radiating demise. Little porches stood with toys, bicycles and chairs scattered about their cement floors. Shouts echoed through the night as people and soldiers alike began to awake to a fiery destruction.
Mission accomplished sought the smiling young rebel. A tremble caught the ground and the boy stumbled, turning to see a suit poised to fall on top of the apartment dwellings. Reflexes built from his training, he darted to the crashing machine, arms held out as though he could change the path of its collapse upon the residential quarters, but the inevitable could not be stopped. Like a domino piece it collided with quarters, shattering the brick facing and forcing its weight upon the structure. Fire spread in its wake, unleashing an inferno on the surrounding residents. The boy stood rooted to the spot as the flames licked his body, screaming at the fiery destruction that lay before him, pleading that the death would stop. He fell to his knees, holding his head in scorched hands, his eyes widening as he came to realize the unstoppable force he had set into motion with no hope of stopping its course.
As the flame extinguished every trace of life, the boy stood between an army of flame he could only let burn. When the fire subsided and only smoldering ashes lingered, he searched for survivors, but could only picture their raw flesh and blackened skeletons. He walked in silence, eyes darting from crevice to chasm, listening for that faint cry of help, but only the smoke was carried out with the wind. His legs took him where a path lay until only rubble and ash lay before him. With his head sagging and clenched fists he looked away to the parched ground, where he came upon a dead puppy, where just yesterday he had met the dog, and its young owner. Bending down, he gently lifted the dog into his arms and moved out of the compound, leaving the restless spirits to linger behind him and follow.
Sorry for the shortness, but it was a Creative Writing piece for class. Tell me what you think. The more comments, the more I might consider writing more. Constructive Criticism Welcome!
He stood silently in the shadow of night his eyes aglow from the fires that ravaged the military compound. One by one the detonators activated with a small click, releasing an explosive discharge that rained fire and metal from its targets. The boy stared with cold cobalt eyes. Patrolling Mobile Suits bent down and seized handfuls of dirt, tossing it onto the blazing buildings. They surrounded the undamaged structures but as they reformed their positions, suits from every direction became incinerated with white flames, toppling over, enveloping the station in death. Pilots ablaze fell from their metallic steeds, all the while the boy clad in black shorts and evergreen tank top observed the little distopia surrounding him. Apartments stood huddled around the grounds, watching the base's radiating demise. Little porches stood with toys, bicycles and chairs scattered about their cement floors. Shouts echoed through the night as people and soldiers alike began to awake to a fiery destruction.
Mission accomplished sought the smiling young rebel. A tremble caught the ground and the boy stumbled, turning to see a suit poised to fall on top of the apartment dwellings. Reflexes built from his training, he darted to the crashing machine, arms held out as though he could change the path of its collapse upon the residential quarters, but the inevitable could not be stopped. Like a domino piece it collided with quarters, shattering the brick facing and forcing its weight upon the structure. Fire spread in its wake, unleashing an inferno on the surrounding residents. The boy stood rooted to the spot as the flames licked his body, screaming at the fiery destruction that lay before him, pleading that the death would stop. He fell to his knees, holding his head in scorched hands, his eyes widening as he came to realize the unstoppable force he had set into motion with no hope of stopping its course.
As the flame extinguished every trace of life, the boy stood between an army of flame he could only let burn. When the fire subsided and only smoldering ashes lingered, he searched for survivors, but could only picture their raw flesh and blackened skeletons. He walked in silence, eyes darting from crevice to chasm, listening for that faint cry of help, but only the smoke was carried out with the wind. His legs took him where a path lay until only rubble and ash lay before him. With his head sagging and clenched fists he looked away to the parched ground, where he came upon a dead puppy, where just yesterday he had met the dog, and its young owner. Bending down, he gently lifted the dog into his arms and moved out of the compound, leaving the restless spirits to linger behind him and follow.
Sorry for the shortness, but it was a Creative Writing piece for class. Tell me what you think. The more comments, the more I might consider writing more. Constructive Criticism Welcome!