Wow! Thankyou for so many reviews for such an indecently short chapter! You all rule! And Razzbairee, you had me cracking up. I wouldn't quite say he's pretty… but he is damn cool. And I love some of his moves. Crunch. It's great!
Hmm… now… how can I fit Ryu in here? "And then, out of the blue, Ryu Hayabusa appeared! Why? Because the author wanted him. He can go now. End of chapter,"
"We'll take him in,"
Little did he know at the time that those were the words that would secure his fate.
He was pushed through into the main hall, and his mouth fell open. So many children, all sitting there. Some talking, some eating silently. But so many of them.
"All of you have been selected to serve your country," A loud voice boomed from the front, belonging to a stout man with a rather noticeable moustache. "Here you will be whittled down, until Russia has only the best to serve them. Be proud to have this opportunity,"
"Maybe later," a young boy near him yawned, stretching tactlessly. "S'boring,"
A shot rang out. He started. The next thing he knew, everyone knew, was the boy falling into his food bowl, dead. Splatters of blood and other matter stained the white linen cloth.
Many children began screaming, crying. He merely stood, stunned, as one of the adults cleaned up the mess and carted the body away as though it was nothing but a sack of potatoes. The crying children were instantly silenced with another gunshot, this time into the roof. A smouldering hole was the only evidence.
"Understand!" the moustache-man bellowed. "We only want the best. And if you are here, then you already know too much. The top secret works of Russia are here. Hence, if you fail us, you fail Russia. You fail Russia, you forfeit your lives. Understand?"
So, this is a competition of sorts. You win, you live. You lose, you die. I have to win. Have to get my revenge for Mother and Father's death. Live my life for them, get revenge for them.
And to do that… I have to survive. Against all the odds.
A small whimper sounded from across the second table. A small blonde girl was sitting there, brown eyes wide and terrified.
The moustache-man pointed to her, and it was with a sinking heart that he watched the still smoking gun rise.
Maybe I have to win and triumph. But she… that little girl. She's so young. Surely they couldn't just release her…?
"Fellow soldiers and soldiers-to-be! This is a perfect example of those we wish to eradicate from our lines. Those too cowardly and too afraid to stand up for what is right for their country. Remember, little girl, you know too much,"
The girl cried out and hid her eyes as the gun pointed at her head.
He stood, transfixed by the sickening sight. He could do something. He could. He felt his hands clench, perspiration beading them as he looked around, hoping that somebody, anybody would stand up for the girl and do something.
Suddenly, the girl's eyes flickered open, resting on him. Only for a moment.
The next moment, they were splattered across the room like the rest of that innocent face.