Kage
An Evangelion One-shot Fanfiction
by Alexei Seranov
Blood.
So much blood.
The walls, the floors, were streaked with it. Coated in it. Saturated.
The dead and the dying lay strewn about, forgotten by the men in black as they swarmed through what was left of NERV Central, executing anyone and everyone with no quarter given. Those who tried to fight were killed. Those who tried to surrender were killed. Those trying to save the wounded were killed. Everyone, everyone was a target, a casualty, a statistic.
For one boy, who sat in the shadows, trying to hide from himself, from those who he loved, from those who loved him, the men in black were nothing more than noise from far-off corridors. Clanking footsteps, staccato of gunfire, explosions, screams, all too far away to affect him. He was useless, worthless, a waste of their time. He knew not of the dead, knew not of the dying, knew not of anything but the shadows, the cage he had locked himself in.
When the men approached him, the urge to run was simply not there. He was a wasted sack of human flesh, not worth of this or any other plane of existence. Might as well let them do their job; make the world a slightly happier place. A place without him.
The cold barrel of the handgun pressed against the top of his skull made him squeeze his eyes closed. Hopefully this would be painless, quick and, in his honest opinion, better than he deserved.
"Sorry kid. Nothing personal."
Oh, it was perfectly understandable. He's only doing what he's told. Orders are meant to be followed.
He could hear the squeezing of the trigger, the soft, metallic noise of the firing pin being drawn back.
The crack of gunfire echoed in the small room. There were stairs, two corridors leading off, three grown men, and the corpse of a young boy.
Author's Note:
I have no idea why I wrote this. It had no prior thought to it, and took about ten minutes to finish. It's far too morbid for my tastes, and I can't even conceptualize what made me write it. I haven't put electronic pen to paper in months, and this little ficlet seems odd coming from my fingers. It's cliché, sad, and totally not like something I'd write. However, it's written, so I might as well let people see it. Sure, it's ridiculously short, pointless and a waste of your time, but I guess I just don't care.
Alexei – 6/23/04
An Evangelion One-shot Fanfiction
by Alexei Seranov
Blood.
So much blood.
The walls, the floors, were streaked with it. Coated in it. Saturated.
The dead and the dying lay strewn about, forgotten by the men in black as they swarmed through what was left of NERV Central, executing anyone and everyone with no quarter given. Those who tried to fight were killed. Those who tried to surrender were killed. Those trying to save the wounded were killed. Everyone, everyone was a target, a casualty, a statistic.
For one boy, who sat in the shadows, trying to hide from himself, from those who he loved, from those who loved him, the men in black were nothing more than noise from far-off corridors. Clanking footsteps, staccato of gunfire, explosions, screams, all too far away to affect him. He was useless, worthless, a waste of their time. He knew not of the dead, knew not of the dying, knew not of anything but the shadows, the cage he had locked himself in.
When the men approached him, the urge to run was simply not there. He was a wasted sack of human flesh, not worth of this or any other plane of existence. Might as well let them do their job; make the world a slightly happier place. A place without him.
The cold barrel of the handgun pressed against the top of his skull made him squeeze his eyes closed. Hopefully this would be painless, quick and, in his honest opinion, better than he deserved.
"Sorry kid. Nothing personal."
Oh, it was perfectly understandable. He's only doing what he's told. Orders are meant to be followed.
He could hear the squeezing of the trigger, the soft, metallic noise of the firing pin being drawn back.
The crack of gunfire echoed in the small room. There were stairs, two corridors leading off, three grown men, and the corpse of a young boy.
Author's Note:
I have no idea why I wrote this. It had no prior thought to it, and took about ten minutes to finish. It's far too morbid for my tastes, and I can't even conceptualize what made me write it. I haven't put electronic pen to paper in months, and this little ficlet seems odd coming from my fingers. It's cliché, sad, and totally not like something I'd write. However, it's written, so I might as well let people see it. Sure, it's ridiculously short, pointless and a waste of your time, but I guess I just don't care.
Alexei – 6/23/04