Irvine's Trial
I tightened my grip on the cold metal of my rifle forth the umpteenth time in 10 painfully slow minutes. I suppose I hold it just to assure myself of it's existence and perhaps even my own. Once again I shifted my weight slightly on the smoke-gray steel grating I sat on. I was psycing myself up for the shot. I looked up for a moment and had a clown statue stare at me with unblinking, emotionless eyes. It's face showed the signs of weathering; paint chipped from random parts, staining on the sides, and a few minuscule nicks from unknown sources. The myriad of colours on the morbid stone statue was the only splash of change in the industrial-looking clock tower.
The monotonous ticking of the clock drilled it's tone into my tense nerves, threatening to shatter them like so many mirrors. Soon I could feel my heart beat in time with the stale throbbing of the clocks internal workings, my breath every other second would inhale or exhale the musty air. I sat with my shaky knees close to, but not touching my muscled chest. My muscles gradually became painfully strained with anxiety. Never before had I actually had to shoot a living, thinking, feeling target and I couldn't help but feel the most uneasiness I'd ever felt before. A droplet of sweat made a path down my hardened face, curving delicately in the grove of my eye and continuing it's unworried trail down my face only to come to rest upon the edge of my lip. It languidly seeped into my mouth momentarily distracting me with it's bitter salty taste.
Unseen rusted gears began to crank and turn underneath me somewhere forcing my heart to kick into overdrive and fill my body with adrenaline. I watched as the clown that had earlier disturbed me come alive with the shimmering of lights as the clock tower's centerpiece came into the view. I was bombarded by the memory of summer that danced in the light wind, the moon was a holy orb in the misted sky and I was now ready. In the city below I could see the multitudes of people cheer on the new ruler with unknowing smiles of joy on their faces. I took a place where I could easily take sight of the target and lie in waiting. The target had a look of displaced amusement on her face, glaring down at the festivities in her honour with a certain amount of disgust painted upon her enigmatic features. Tick, the gates shut down trapping her under an ancient monument as planned before hand. She stood abruptly with pure rage strewn across her face. Tick, I lined her up in my sights with the scope on my sniper rifle and breathed deeply enough to fill my entire body with air. Tick, I hesitated. I didn't know why but I deliberately paused for a second taking the caliber of the situation into my mind in no more than an instant. For that second which felt like an eternity I could feel the clutches of humanity and morality take vicious hold of my soul and tear it into enough pieces to match the glowing stars in the night sky. Tick, my finger twitched with sudden excitement and I knew it was now or never. I pulled the trigger and sent the bullet ripping through the breeze...
I tightened my grip on the cold metal of my rifle forth the umpteenth time in 10 painfully slow minutes. I suppose I hold it just to assure myself of it's existence and perhaps even my own. Once again I shifted my weight slightly on the smoke-gray steel grating I sat on. I was psycing myself up for the shot. I looked up for a moment and had a clown statue stare at me with unblinking, emotionless eyes. It's face showed the signs of weathering; paint chipped from random parts, staining on the sides, and a few minuscule nicks from unknown sources. The myriad of colours on the morbid stone statue was the only splash of change in the industrial-looking clock tower.
The monotonous ticking of the clock drilled it's tone into my tense nerves, threatening to shatter them like so many mirrors. Soon I could feel my heart beat in time with the stale throbbing of the clocks internal workings, my breath every other second would inhale or exhale the musty air. I sat with my shaky knees close to, but not touching my muscled chest. My muscles gradually became painfully strained with anxiety. Never before had I actually had to shoot a living, thinking, feeling target and I couldn't help but feel the most uneasiness I'd ever felt before. A droplet of sweat made a path down my hardened face, curving delicately in the grove of my eye and continuing it's unworried trail down my face only to come to rest upon the edge of my lip. It languidly seeped into my mouth momentarily distracting me with it's bitter salty taste.
Unseen rusted gears began to crank and turn underneath me somewhere forcing my heart to kick into overdrive and fill my body with adrenaline. I watched as the clown that had earlier disturbed me come alive with the shimmering of lights as the clock tower's centerpiece came into the view. I was bombarded by the memory of summer that danced in the light wind, the moon was a holy orb in the misted sky and I was now ready. In the city below I could see the multitudes of people cheer on the new ruler with unknowing smiles of joy on their faces. I took a place where I could easily take sight of the target and lie in waiting. The target had a look of displaced amusement on her face, glaring down at the festivities in her honour with a certain amount of disgust painted upon her enigmatic features. Tick, the gates shut down trapping her under an ancient monument as planned before hand. She stood abruptly with pure rage strewn across her face. Tick, I lined her up in my sights with the scope on my sniper rifle and breathed deeply enough to fill my entire body with air. Tick, I hesitated. I didn't know why but I deliberately paused for a second taking the caliber of the situation into my mind in no more than an instant. For that second which felt like an eternity I could feel the clutches of humanity and morality take vicious hold of my soul and tear it into enough pieces to match the glowing stars in the night sky. Tick, my finger twitched with sudden excitement and I knew it was now or never. I pulled the trigger and sent the bullet ripping through the breeze...