The first in a series of three. Had a random thought that probably traces back to mp3.1415player's work Taylor is DOOMed but was not created in response. The initial work (published after here) was within a handful of 762 words. Those of you that know much about firearms will recognize the significance of that number. For those that don't, 7.62mm is one of the standard calibers for firearms used by NATO countries. The next two most recognizable standards are 5.56mm and 12.7mm, resulting in the creation of a 556 word long version (this one) and a 1270 word long version (published third). Please enjoy.


"This is the Heavy Assault Rifle. It fires a .50 caliber full metal jacket cartridge."

Taylor gleefully eyed the massive firearm.

"I modified this one to also fire micro rockets. Whenever the bullets couldn't do the job, the micro rockets could."

"Can I try it?"

Danny smiled at his daughter, his whole world since Annette's passing, a world he had nearly lost. "In a bit. There are a few more things you need to know." Taylor nodded fervently.

When his baby girl had been pulled from that locker, his Rage, long extinguished, had begun to rekindle. When she, in her own inherited Rage, slipped up and mentioned that Emma helped arrange the entire incident, Danny's Rage grew cold.

As a teenage girl, Taylor could not possibly understand what Danny had felt upon hearing her story. His self directed anger was powerful but he had long ago learned to channel Rage. Adding in that it was Emma, Taylor's best friend, who had caused his daughter's suffering, and that the school had ignored his daughter's plight, Danny knew there was no lack of proper targets deserving of his Rage.

"The most important thing to remember, whether you are wielding this, a chainsaw, a plasma rifle, or even just your fists, you must harness your Rage, channel it, let it fill you, let it almost overwhelm you, but keep it focused and directed towards your end goal. It will strengthen you, sustain you, and, if strong enough, you'll never be unarmed."

Taylor's long black curls bounced as she nodded in understanding.

Confident in his daughter, Danny handed her the massive weapon. She should not have been able to hold it, its weight crushing to almost any normal human. Yet, Taylor held it as if it was as light as the air she breathed.

"Good," Danny declared as he smiled. "Now, hold it against your shoulder, nice and tight. Good. Lean into it, your whole body, not just your torso. Brace with your feet. Look down the sights, just like you did on the pistol, they work the same way."

Following her father's instructions, Taylor sighted her target at the end of the range.

"Take a deep breath," she did so, "finger on the trigger," it moved into position, "and moving just your finger, not your whole hand, squeeze."

A three round burst got off before Taylor released.

The glee on her face mirrored Danny's.

The target at the end of the range disagreed. "FUCK YOU, BITCH! You dripping rectal cysts better finish the fucking job or I'm going to take your corpses and parade them around as one of Squealer's hood ornaments!"

Danny raised an eyebrow at his daughter. "You know what to do."

Taylor nodded, taking aim once more. A day before, the Merchants had proven their stupidity by trying to break into one of the Dockworkers Association's facilities. Danny took the opportunity to train his daughter in her other legacy. Annette gave Taylor her looks and her smarts. Danny gave her something else, something primal.

The rapid cycling of the weapon filled the air. When it ran dry, Danny placed a loving hand on her shoulder. He had failed her once before, believing in the goodness of humanity instilled in him by Annette. Now, he knew better.

"Yes, Dad. We rip and tear until it is done."