The Inner Beast
His life was far from spectacular. Most of his own life remained but an afterthought for him. He was a visionary. He was a master.
The parade route went right by the flat that his family lived in. He was just a child at the time, but even he knew what the parade was. The street would be lined with thousands of citizens hoping to catch a glimpse at the various military technologies his country had to display. His parents had left to join the mass, but he was forced to watch from the tiny window in the flat with his younger sister. As the giant missiles and rocket launchers slowly made their way down the street with the entire soldier escort that accompanied them. He held his sister on his soldiers to watch them go by. They all fascinated him. His sister even managed to spot their parents in the massive crowd. It seemed to be a joyous occasion. Everyone was affected by the great world war. These parades happened quite often, but they always drove morality up. It always made everyone so happy. Or, rather, the parade usually made people happy.
No one knows what caused it, but the newspaper said it was a plot by the enemy. Whether that was true or it was just a mechanical function, the young boy never discovered. All he remembered was the explosion. One of the giant missiles went off. It could have been a bullet fired by a sniper. It could have been the timing mechanism that malfunctioned. Either way, the giant missile exploded directly in front of his flat. He could feel the ground give beneath him. His sister fell from his shoulders. When the carnage had ended, his was only one of several buildings that had fallen. He didn't remember it. He only felt the soldiers pulling him out from the debris. He had tubes hooked through his nose and bandages applied all over his body. He could see them pulling his sister from the rubble, but she didn't move.
The soldier, who pulled her out put his fingers on her neck, then walked over to the soldier standing above him. "Another dead. It's not promising. Only four survivors so far."
The other soldier nodded. "There still may be others alive. We can't abandon hope yet." The soldier removed the boy's shirt to bandage him. Instead, he picked up something around his neck. "A locket?" The soldier looked back at the boy. "Must be your good luck charm."
The boy was rushed off to the hospital, then, afterwards, to a large bunker. Anyone who managed to survive the attack was sent there. They had been drafted. He never saw his parents, his sister, or his neighbors again.
* * *
"Kid, get over here! Help us on the flank!"
It was just like any normal border skirmish. It was completely routine. The boy had a hard time adapting to soldier life. The blast had a major toll on his training. It wasn't long before he was sent away, ignored for any special training. They had fought these skirmishes many times. They weren't really anything to be worried about anymore. Protocol missions to say the least.
"Right, Captain." The kid ran towards his captain and slid through the dirt, taking site on the enemy soldiers. The soldier had his eyes set on the foxholes in front of him when several small explosions took out a trench behind him.
His captain spun around. "What the hell? How did they get behind us?"
Before he could finish his sentence, a bullet caught him in his cheek. The boy whirled around and fired on the shooter, managing to catch him in his chest. An explosion ripped through his trench eliminating half of his unit. The boy leapt out of the trench and covered his head just in time to see the rest of his trench go up in flames. He was frozen with fear for what could happen. He must have been lying there for at least half an hour. Several guys walked over to him.
They pointed their guns to his head. "Get up, maggot!"
The boy rose to his feet slowly. Another soldier screamed at him. "Drop your gun and put your hands behind your head!"
He dropped his gun and the soldiers in front of him dove out of the way. The one behind him slammed his gun into the boy's back. "Are you trying to be cute, boy?"
One of the soldiers stood up. "This kid is either nuts or extremely stupid."
The soldier behind him responded. "I'd say stupid."
The soldier behind him chuckled. "Seems right. Let's get him back."
One of the soldiers spotted something around his neck. "What's this?" He snatched the gold locket from the boy's necklace.
The soldiers turned away from the border. It was towards his home. They weren't enemy soldiers.
* * *
How long had he been there? He had lost all track of time. He had been prodded, poked, and tortured every day. They kept asking him for information he didn't know. In between tortures he managed to find out a little bit of information about his captors. They were terrorists. They wanted to end the war. They wanted independence. Of course, this was what he could piece together from their conversations.
The door opened and the soldiers entered. "Have you decided to talk yet, worm?"
The boy sighed. "I told you, I don't know anything."
The soldier shook his head. "I was hoping you had come to your senses." He removed the boy's locket from his front pocket.
The boy stared at it with wide eyes. He shook his head at the soldier. "Please, don't. It's all I have left."
The soldier nodded. "I know. We know what happened to your family."
The boy tried to lunge forward. "What! How do you know what happened?"
The soldier with the locket looked at the soldier. "You're right, he doesn't know anything."
He dropped the locket on the ground and crushed it under his foot. The other soldier began to laugh. "Figure it out, worm."
The boy stared at his crushed locket. Everything suddenly seemed useless. He forced himself from crying. He had nothing left. Like a train, it hit him. His sorrow turned to anger. He began to scream a fierce, tribal cry. The soldiers turned to face him. Something was happening.
The soldier who had crushed the locket took a step back. "What the hell. His hands... They're... They're glowing!"
He ripped through chains holding him. "You..."
The soldiers backed up against the wall. "What the..."
The boy formed a ball of energy and hurled it towards the soldiers. They were engulfed in the blast. He stomped towards the door and knocked it to the ground. The hallway was clear. He walked to the end and saw a door with two armed guards.
They stared at him for a moment. "The prisoner? How did you escape?"
The boy formed another ball of energy in his hand and hurled it at the door. The soldiers dove out of the way. The resulting explosion sent them down the hall. The thick metal door fell to the ground. The boy walked in to find a man staring at him from behind a desk. "Who are you?"
The boy snarled. "Why did you blow the missiles during the parade?"
The man stood up. "I don't know what you are talking about."
The boy knocked the desk out of the way. He grabbed the man's shirt and threw him against the wall. "Liar! I'll ask you again, why did you blow that missile?"
The man slowly made his way to his feet. "I'll tell you again, I don't know what you are talking about."
The boy lifted him by his lapel. His hands began to emit an eerie glow. The man began to shake. "We, we had to. No progress can be made without blood being shed."
The boy's flames began to increase in size. "Killing innocent people makes progress! Wrong answer!"
The man quivered at the rage in the boy's eyes. "Please. You must understand. What we do, we do for the people."
The boy began to push the man's chest. "You kill the people who supposedly fight for! My sister was six years old. What did she do to deserve being slaughtered?"
The man relieved himself. "Please. You must understand. We had to do it."
The boy cut the man off. "Too late." Flames engulfed the man. The boy threw him through the table.
The two guards managed to make to their feet to see all this. "He, he killed the general!"
The boy walked right past them, but one of the guards spoke up. "Wait."
The boy stopped and turned his head. "Do you want to die too?"
The soldier leaned against the wall. "I'm... I'm sorry about your loss."
The boy turned around. "What do you know?"
The soldier breathed deeply. "I know what it's like to lose those that I care about."
The boy stopped. "What do you mean?"
The soldier stepped forward. "I lived in a city not far from here. I lost my family in the war also. What we want is peace."
"Peace? Peace for the people you slaughter?"
"Peace so that others may not die needlessly because someone isn't rich enough. Peace so that no ten year old boy will ever see his parents shot for standing up to a soldier. I cannot justify the deaths of those who are in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I can say that more would die if we do nothing."
The boy shook his head. "Why are you telling me this?"
The soldier smiled. "You have what we need."
The other soldier looked at him. "Are you crazy? This guy just fried our leader."
"He has power. Out old leader didn't have that. We need someone who is willing to fight along side us." He turned his attention to the boy. "You are unique. You have power we have never seen. You must realize, had our country not entered this pointless war, our families may still be alive."
The boy closed his eyes and fell to his knees. What the soldier said made sense to him. As far as he was concerned, they had him.
* * *
He stared at a piece of paper when a soldier walked in. "Commander. We have our soldiers in position. What are our orders?"
The commander looked up. "Cancel the attack, it won't be successful."
"Sir?"
"Tell me. What good would an attack do if the US or USSR would invade us the moment we become independent?"
"I, I don't know sir."
"It wouldn't do us any. As long as these nations exist, there can be no peace. What we need is increase our network."
"Sir, how can we do that?"
"We must unify all of our connections under one symbol. We must get more powerful allies."
"I understand General."
"If we are to be unified, there will need to be someone at the head."
"Yes sir."
"Gather all of our troops. Get all of our connections together. I want to address everyone at once."
"Yes sir, General Bison."
Bison smiled. He was soon to become one of the most powerful men in the world. He was no longer the boy who watched the giant missiles in a parade. He was in control.
His life was far from spectacular. Most of his own life remained but an afterthought for him. He was a visionary. He was a master.
The parade route went right by the flat that his family lived in. He was just a child at the time, but even he knew what the parade was. The street would be lined with thousands of citizens hoping to catch a glimpse at the various military technologies his country had to display. His parents had left to join the mass, but he was forced to watch from the tiny window in the flat with his younger sister. As the giant missiles and rocket launchers slowly made their way down the street with the entire soldier escort that accompanied them. He held his sister on his soldiers to watch them go by. They all fascinated him. His sister even managed to spot their parents in the massive crowd. It seemed to be a joyous occasion. Everyone was affected by the great world war. These parades happened quite often, but they always drove morality up. It always made everyone so happy. Or, rather, the parade usually made people happy.
No one knows what caused it, but the newspaper said it was a plot by the enemy. Whether that was true or it was just a mechanical function, the young boy never discovered. All he remembered was the explosion. One of the giant missiles went off. It could have been a bullet fired by a sniper. It could have been the timing mechanism that malfunctioned. Either way, the giant missile exploded directly in front of his flat. He could feel the ground give beneath him. His sister fell from his shoulders. When the carnage had ended, his was only one of several buildings that had fallen. He didn't remember it. He only felt the soldiers pulling him out from the debris. He had tubes hooked through his nose and bandages applied all over his body. He could see them pulling his sister from the rubble, but she didn't move.
The soldier, who pulled her out put his fingers on her neck, then walked over to the soldier standing above him. "Another dead. It's not promising. Only four survivors so far."
The other soldier nodded. "There still may be others alive. We can't abandon hope yet." The soldier removed the boy's shirt to bandage him. Instead, he picked up something around his neck. "A locket?" The soldier looked back at the boy. "Must be your good luck charm."
The boy was rushed off to the hospital, then, afterwards, to a large bunker. Anyone who managed to survive the attack was sent there. They had been drafted. He never saw his parents, his sister, or his neighbors again.
* * *
"Kid, get over here! Help us on the flank!"
It was just like any normal border skirmish. It was completely routine. The boy had a hard time adapting to soldier life. The blast had a major toll on his training. It wasn't long before he was sent away, ignored for any special training. They had fought these skirmishes many times. They weren't really anything to be worried about anymore. Protocol missions to say the least.
"Right, Captain." The kid ran towards his captain and slid through the dirt, taking site on the enemy soldiers. The soldier had his eyes set on the foxholes in front of him when several small explosions took out a trench behind him.
His captain spun around. "What the hell? How did they get behind us?"
Before he could finish his sentence, a bullet caught him in his cheek. The boy whirled around and fired on the shooter, managing to catch him in his chest. An explosion ripped through his trench eliminating half of his unit. The boy leapt out of the trench and covered his head just in time to see the rest of his trench go up in flames. He was frozen with fear for what could happen. He must have been lying there for at least half an hour. Several guys walked over to him.
They pointed their guns to his head. "Get up, maggot!"
The boy rose to his feet slowly. Another soldier screamed at him. "Drop your gun and put your hands behind your head!"
He dropped his gun and the soldiers in front of him dove out of the way. The one behind him slammed his gun into the boy's back. "Are you trying to be cute, boy?"
One of the soldiers stood up. "This kid is either nuts or extremely stupid."
The soldier behind him responded. "I'd say stupid."
The soldier behind him chuckled. "Seems right. Let's get him back."
One of the soldiers spotted something around his neck. "What's this?" He snatched the gold locket from the boy's necklace.
The soldiers turned away from the border. It was towards his home. They weren't enemy soldiers.
* * *
How long had he been there? He had lost all track of time. He had been prodded, poked, and tortured every day. They kept asking him for information he didn't know. In between tortures he managed to find out a little bit of information about his captors. They were terrorists. They wanted to end the war. They wanted independence. Of course, this was what he could piece together from their conversations.
The door opened and the soldiers entered. "Have you decided to talk yet, worm?"
The boy sighed. "I told you, I don't know anything."
The soldier shook his head. "I was hoping you had come to your senses." He removed the boy's locket from his front pocket.
The boy stared at it with wide eyes. He shook his head at the soldier. "Please, don't. It's all I have left."
The soldier nodded. "I know. We know what happened to your family."
The boy tried to lunge forward. "What! How do you know what happened?"
The soldier with the locket looked at the soldier. "You're right, he doesn't know anything."
He dropped the locket on the ground and crushed it under his foot. The other soldier began to laugh. "Figure it out, worm."
The boy stared at his crushed locket. Everything suddenly seemed useless. He forced himself from crying. He had nothing left. Like a train, it hit him. His sorrow turned to anger. He began to scream a fierce, tribal cry. The soldiers turned to face him. Something was happening.
The soldier who had crushed the locket took a step back. "What the hell. His hands... They're... They're glowing!"
He ripped through chains holding him. "You..."
The soldiers backed up against the wall. "What the..."
The boy formed a ball of energy and hurled it towards the soldiers. They were engulfed in the blast. He stomped towards the door and knocked it to the ground. The hallway was clear. He walked to the end and saw a door with two armed guards.
They stared at him for a moment. "The prisoner? How did you escape?"
The boy formed another ball of energy in his hand and hurled it at the door. The soldiers dove out of the way. The resulting explosion sent them down the hall. The thick metal door fell to the ground. The boy walked in to find a man staring at him from behind a desk. "Who are you?"
The boy snarled. "Why did you blow the missiles during the parade?"
The man stood up. "I don't know what you are talking about."
The boy knocked the desk out of the way. He grabbed the man's shirt and threw him against the wall. "Liar! I'll ask you again, why did you blow that missile?"
The man slowly made his way to his feet. "I'll tell you again, I don't know what you are talking about."
The boy lifted him by his lapel. His hands began to emit an eerie glow. The man began to shake. "We, we had to. No progress can be made without blood being shed."
The boy's flames began to increase in size. "Killing innocent people makes progress! Wrong answer!"
The man quivered at the rage in the boy's eyes. "Please. You must understand. What we do, we do for the people."
The boy began to push the man's chest. "You kill the people who supposedly fight for! My sister was six years old. What did she do to deserve being slaughtered?"
The man relieved himself. "Please. You must understand. We had to do it."
The boy cut the man off. "Too late." Flames engulfed the man. The boy threw him through the table.
The two guards managed to make to their feet to see all this. "He, he killed the general!"
The boy walked right past them, but one of the guards spoke up. "Wait."
The boy stopped and turned his head. "Do you want to die too?"
The soldier leaned against the wall. "I'm... I'm sorry about your loss."
The boy turned around. "What do you know?"
The soldier breathed deeply. "I know what it's like to lose those that I care about."
The boy stopped. "What do you mean?"
The soldier stepped forward. "I lived in a city not far from here. I lost my family in the war also. What we want is peace."
"Peace? Peace for the people you slaughter?"
"Peace so that others may not die needlessly because someone isn't rich enough. Peace so that no ten year old boy will ever see his parents shot for standing up to a soldier. I cannot justify the deaths of those who are in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I can say that more would die if we do nothing."
The boy shook his head. "Why are you telling me this?"
The soldier smiled. "You have what we need."
The other soldier looked at him. "Are you crazy? This guy just fried our leader."
"He has power. Out old leader didn't have that. We need someone who is willing to fight along side us." He turned his attention to the boy. "You are unique. You have power we have never seen. You must realize, had our country not entered this pointless war, our families may still be alive."
The boy closed his eyes and fell to his knees. What the soldier said made sense to him. As far as he was concerned, they had him.
* * *
He stared at a piece of paper when a soldier walked in. "Commander. We have our soldiers in position. What are our orders?"
The commander looked up. "Cancel the attack, it won't be successful."
"Sir?"
"Tell me. What good would an attack do if the US or USSR would invade us the moment we become independent?"
"I, I don't know sir."
"It wouldn't do us any. As long as these nations exist, there can be no peace. What we need is increase our network."
"Sir, how can we do that?"
"We must unify all of our connections under one symbol. We must get more powerful allies."
"I understand General."
"If we are to be unified, there will need to be someone at the head."
"Yes sir."
"Gather all of our troops. Get all of our connections together. I want to address everyone at once."
"Yes sir, General Bison."
Bison smiled. He was soon to become one of the most powerful men in the world. He was no longer the boy who watched the giant missiles in a parade. He was in control.