This was the first idea I came up with for this collection, based on a short story I read a long time ago. Hope you like it.


Lane Loud pulled out a cigarette on the rooftop of the crumbling, decrepit building. He knew he shouldn't. If there was one thing anyone knew about war, it was that, at nighttime, you didn't light a cigarette. If any enemy soldier caught a glimpse of the bright spark of your lighter, they would know where you were. And if they knew were you were, if you're location was compromised, then you were screwed. Especially if you were a sniper like Lane.

But the boy didn't care. A long time ago, his only concern was making his family laugh, and by extension making himself smile, when he saw their faces light up with smiles. But there were no more smiles to be had, as the drums of war beat over their home, and the siblings had scattered to the wind.

Maybe Lane hoped an enemy would see his light, and put a nice bullet into his skull…

BANG!

Lane instinctively ducked as he heard the gunshot fire into the air, all desire for death gone, as the human instinct to survive no matter what kicked in. He dropped his cigarette and breathed heavily as he waited for a second shot. He could only assume his enemy was on the opposing roof. It was only a guess, but it was better than nothing.

The young adult grabbed a small piece of the rubble next to him, and briefly smiled. "Let's rock his world," he whispered to himself, "Ha… ha… geddit?" he drew it out as slowly as possible, before tossing the rock into the air.

BANG! came a second shot. Lane smiled. Amateur. The motion must have startled him, and now Lane knew he was dealing with a rookie, and where said rookie was.

The brown haired boy grabbed his rifle as quickly as possible and lifted his head, hoping the other solider was reloading.

Huh… huh…

He breathed heavily as he put the scope to his eye. The silhouette of a young man on the other rooftop, struggling with his weapon came into Lane's view.

Huh… huh…

Lane made sure to aim directly for the head as the other solider seemed to finally look up at him.

BANG!

Bulls eye.

The other man dropped on to his knees, and then collapsed face first onto the floor. Lane held his breath, almost as if that would stop the other one from breathing, and finally sighed of relief when he saw the other man not get up.

It was official; Lane Loud had bagged his first kill of the night.

Lane got up from his sitting place, and prepared to depart from the ruined buildings… but for some reason, he felt a weird desire to look at the man he shot. All he ever saw from him was a dark figure. The other one deserved at least a bit of dignity, to have his killer look at him up close, rather than from the safe distance with the aid of glass.

Lane swallowed heavily, and hoped none of the other's comrades were around. The small firefight had not attracted any other gunshots or sounds, aside from the panicked flapping of bird's wings, so Lane felt it okay to investigate. He walked over to the door leading to the stairwell down the building, and he sighed as he peered down into the dark stairway, and slowed made his way down.

He continued his path across the street, shooing away a few stray cats, and kicked open the door to the other building, not worrying too much about who would hear him. He made his way up the second flight of stairs, eventually huffing and puffing as he finally reached the rooftop.

The stairway to Heaven… I am going to see a dead guy after all…

He chuckled slightly, even though he didn't think it was funny.

He opened the door to the second rooftop, and looked around for the body of the fallen solider. Eventually, he spied it in the corner, and wandered over to it. It was a young man, who looked slightly older than him, with dark brownish hair and a thin figure. Lane flipped the corpse over to look at the face of the enemy, and his eyes widened as he recognized his opponent;

The dead eyes of Luke Loud, his old roommate and best friend, stared back at him.

Lane was surprised, not only at the fact that his own older brother was with the enemy, but that… he surprisingly didn't feel anything. The body of his brother was lying before him, dead by his own hands, and yet… nothing.

Years later, Lane would look back on that moment and realize something… he had believed it was shock or adrenaline that stopped him from feeling for the loss of Luke, but now he knew the truth about why he felt nothing.

When he signed up for the war, he knew he was going to be killing his brothers.

It just so happened this one was blood-related.