Hey, I know this is really late but it was so hard to write. I'm sorry. It's not even that good. Also there's going to be a suicide at the end. So be careful with that. I'm going to apologize beforehand; I think this is just my worse chapter. So I hope you enjoy it a bit. See ya.
Oliver Banks spent half of his life on the sea. He was raised on his father's boat. The only contact he had with people other than his mother Sally and his father Hugo were when they had to get more supplies. He had never been home England after he was born, but his parent's told him it was great. Whenever they were going to a new port Sally would tell Oliver all about the country they were going in. It was his way of learning history.
He always prided himself that he knew more about any country in the world than anyone, well besides his parents. He learned other things to, like how to count, and add and subtract. It was easy for him, he had to count how many supplies they had and had to figure out how much they would use in a week and whenever they were in port Oliver had to figure out the cost for everything and his mother also made him figure out how much more or less it cost than the last port. For science he learned mostly about the ocean and the environment. Leaning the anatomy of a fish was easier when you watch someone skin a fish several times a week.
Other than that Oliver spent most of his time on the boat. After doing his chores he went to his bunk and played card games. That's all he did for fun. He knew tons of card games to play by himself. He always had a deck of cards with him. It was a great way to pass the time. Sally had expressed many time that they should stop sailing for a while and let Oliver spend some time in England to get some friends. She hated seeing him so lonely.
Hugo didn't agree told Sally many times that Oliver was fine. He had friends all over the place, he didn't need anymore. After many years of persisting that they allow Oliver to go to a school like a normal kid Hugo gave in. He decided to allow Sally and Oliver spend a year in England and if Oliver didn't like it there they had to leave again. So that's what they did, Hugo left the two in England and went off sailing on his own.
X
Oliver loved going to school. He met so many new people and got so many news friends that he could see every day. When they first landed though, and were getting a flat to live in Sally and Oliver had to get checked up by a doctor first. It was strange; Sally said it must have been because they were gone for so long. Oliver didn't care though. He was in a new place.
To Sally, England was a different place than it was ten years before. She noticed with a new king came a new way of life. He enforced laws that she didn't know people were able to enforce. She started to wonder if it was a good idea to leave the sea.
Oliver was ten years old and on his first day of school he was taught by the other kids very quickly who to like and who not to like. He was told that anyone with a deformity or a disability were to be shunned. One kid, Kenny, even told him that soon they were going to be taken care of like the swine they were, or at least that's what Kenny's dad told him.
In school Oliver was taught about the laws, and were told they had to follow them. After another law was passed a few of the teachers and kids at school left. Oliver was happy, at least he would get the deform disease from them.
X
A few months after beginning school Oliver became best friends with Dustin. Dustin was a bit funny but at least he wasn't a deform. His mother never allowed him to go over anyone else house or let anyone go over theirs. Oliver didn't mind though, he was fine spending time with him at school.
One day, Oliver was playing outside with Dustin and was climbing a tree in the park, the one place Dustin was allowed to go without his mum. Dustin was sitting below the tree watching him. "Dustin, come up here," Oliver called bellow.
Dustin shook his head. "Mummy doesn't want me to climb trees," he told him.
Oliver frowned and climbed to the ground. "Why not?" he asked as he jumped from the last branch.
"I'm not allowed to tell people," Dustin told him.
"But I'm your best friend," Oliver whined. "Tell me!"
Dustin nodded and looked up at the tree. "She says I have smaller lungs than someone should my age, so it's hard for me to breathe when I do activities," he explained.
Oliver's eyes widened. His best friend was different from everyone else. He had a deformity. But he seemed so normal. It was wrong. Everything felt wrong. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. His best friend lied to him. Oliver ran forward and tackled Dustin to the ground.
"What are you doing?" Dustin asked as he tried to push Oliver off of him.
Oliver couldn't hear him. The ten year old was angry and confused. What if he had the disease now? He liked Dustin so much why was he wrong. He hit him in the face again and again.
Dustin yelled and started hitting Oliver back, doing his best to fight him off. Sally, who was watching the boys, ran over and pulled Oliver off of the other boy. "What are you doing?" she asked, holding her struggling son.
"He hit me," Oliver yelled. "He hit me. The pig hit me!"
Dustin started crying and curled up into a ball. "Why did he hit you?" Sally asked. "And don't call him a pig; he's a little boy just like you."
Two RA's ran over to figure out what the problem was. "Ma'am, what's wrong?" one man asked her.
"He's a deform," Oliver cried pointing at Dustin's small form. "His lungs are smaller than everyone else's. He told me himself."
The other RA bent down and glared at Dustin. "Alright, we'll take him in," he assured Oliver. The RA pulled on gloves and picked Dustin up off the ground. "We'll call his parents."
"What are you going to do to him?" Sally asked quickly.
"We're just going to take him in and have his parents come pick him up, there's no reason to worry," the RA told him. He looked at Oliver and gave him a smile. "You did good young man, hopefully one day we'll have you wearing this uniform."
Sally forced a smile on his face, as Oliver beamed at him. "Don't worry Dustin, you'll be fine," she assured him. She watched him be taken away before taking Oliver home again.
X
The year was up. Oliver loved it in England; he was popular and was seen as a hero but Sally didn't think it would be right for him to grow up like that. When they met Hugo at the docks Sally took all of their things and put them on the boat. Hugo simply raised an eyebrow at her and went straight to Oliver. "So? You didn't like it?"
Oliver shook his head. "I want to be a Reichenbach Agent," he told him. "They're cool, and they have cool uniforms, and they keep the world clean."
Hugo laughed. "I thought you were going to say cool again," he joked. "What's a Reichenbach Agent?"
"You don't want to know," Sally said coming back up. She shook her head angrily. "We should have never come back. It's different Hugo."
"I helped put a deform away," Oliver said proudly.
"A deform?" Hugo asked looking back at Sally.
Sally pointed at her son. "That's not something to be proud of. He was your friend," she growled. "Just take him in. I want him out of here as fast as we can."
Hugo nodded and brought Oliver down into the boat. "Will you explain what's going on?" he asked the young boy.
"There's these new laws that the new king made and the deforms will give you evil disease that will turn you sick and I helped to put Dustin, who has smaller lungs than everyone else, into his place. The RA's said they were just taking him back to his parents but I heard that he's going to jail. All deforms that commit offences go to jail. He hit me. That's an offence. One of my other friends said they'll be taking them away soon no matter what," Oliver explained quickly. He was bouncing in Hugo's arms with excitement.
Hugo nodded and swallowed. "What makes you a deform?" he asked.
"Tons of things," Oliver said. "Multiple toes, a shorter leg, brain problems. There was this girl in my class that had one toe removed, but she moved, made the rest of us happy."
Hugo frowned. "That doesn't sound very nice," he said. "They did nothing to you, why should so many laws be made against them?"
"Because they're filthy rotten pigs," Oliver yelled.
Hugo clamped a hand over his mouth. "I never want to hear you say anything like again," he ordered. "Do you understand me?"
"Why? Do you support the pigs?" Oliver asked. He wiggled from his dads arms. "Anyone that supports them, are just as disgusting as they are."
Hugo grabbed a hold of his arm and spanked him. "I want you to go to your bunk and stay there for the rest of the day," he told him. "If I hear you speak like that ever again you'll be in trouble for longer." Oliver's eyes welled up with tears and he ran to his bunk. Hugo ground his teeth together and he turned around going off to find Sally.
X
Later that night when Oliver was asleep Hugo and Sally were sitting around. Hugo rubbed his face and he shook his head. "He's eleven, where is he hearing these things?" he asked.
"Kids at school, who heard it from their parents," Sally sighed. "It was horrible Hu; I wanted him out of there the moment I learned about everything. I thought something was going to happen. I thought people were going to stop this. It's going to get worse. I say we just stay on the boat. He'll eventually forget about it."
Hugo nodded and took a sip of his wine. "I hope so, if he finds out god knows what he'll say," he mumbled.
"He won't find out," Sally told him. "It's ancient, no one knows about it."
"The way he was talking, I suddenly felt like I was beneath him. My own son!" Hugo yelled and hit his hand against the table.
Sally took his hand and kissed it. "Shh, he's sleeping, you don't want to wake him up," she said. "If he hears us talking he'll hate us forever."
Hugo looked down at his arms and sighed. "We just won't talk about it anymore," he mumbled. "I can't believe this is a problem."
"You would think he would be alright with difference," Sally laughed. "So many different places, so many different people, he can't handle this."
"Do you think he would understand if I told him that one is shorter than the other? I mean, would it change his mind?" Hugo asked. "God, I didn't even think I would have to worry about that."
Sally shook her head. "He beat up his best friend; I don't think you could change his mind."
Hugo looked towards the bunks and sighed. He took a large sip from his glass and squeezed his eyes shut. "I told you it would be better to just have him stay here," he mumbled. He rubbed his eyes again and groaned.
X
Throughout the years Oliver trained himself to notice if someone had a deformity. He was surprised it took him eight to find Hugo's. Eight whole years he was able to notice if everyone they passed if they were a deform or not. Maybe it was because it was his father. He did love the man, which clouded his mind.
He didn't know. The day he found out though Oliver was fixing a sail, Hugo was watching him carefully. "You know, you'll be able to have your own boat, maybe even take over mine when I'm gone," he laughed.
"I don't want a boat," Oliver said.
Hugo rolled his eyes. "You still can't be caught up on that," he sighed. "I'm sure the RAs aren't even working."
Oliver dropped to the deck and sighed. "Why are you so against this?" he asked. "I was always told I could do anything when I grew up. Well, I'm nineteen now and I want to serve under the kind."
Hugo shook his head. "They're bad people," he told him. "Only idiots follow them."
"What's your problem with them anyway?" asked Oliver. "Are you one of those people? Do you have deformity?"
Hugo said nothing, afraid he would give himself away. He clenched his hands into fists and started working on something else. Oliver watched him silently and his eye caught something. "Your arm," he muttered. "It's…but how?" Hugo stopped what he was doing and swallowed. "I want off this boat. Take me to England now!"
"Now Ollie, don't overreact," Hugo pleaded. "Listen, this hasn't been a problem before. They're not even that far apart, you couldn't even tell."
"I won't report you if you take me to England," Oliver told him. "And if you never return there won't be a problem. I'm old enough. Now let me go and I'll join whatever I want to protect my country from things like you."
Hugo stared at his son, his stomach filling with dread. He had tried so hard to teach Oliver right from wrong but he seemed to fail. He nodded once and turned around; trying to hide his tears. "Next stop, England," he mumbled. "Sally, do we have enough for a trip back home?"
Sally came up from below. "We're not going back there," she told him. With one look though she could tell what had happened. "Oliver, we couldn't tell you, we didn't want you to hate us."
Oliver shook his head. "I'm not helping anymore. He serves me," he stated. He pushed both of them aside and went below to his bunk.
X
Oliver spared his parents jail time, possible death, by letting them go back to the sea. When he stepped foot on solid ground he felt at home. He felt there wasn't a better place for him. The first thing he did was go straight to the recruiting station and talked with someone. After getting checked out, and after he passed his medical exam he was cleared to go. He was off to basic training. It was the best day of his life.
X
Oliver pushed himself through the physical training. Life on a boat really worked up his strength but the running was hard for him. He was taught how to shoot a gun, was top in his squad. He loved the life of a recruit. The thought of becoming an official RA pushed him to go through everything. He was going to protect, and teach the population of the world that some of them weren't right. They had to be taken care of so the rest of the perfect people without deformities could live peacefully.
Attack and Defend. That was their motto. Attack the deforms, and protect the people from the disease.
Oliver had every lesson etched into his mind. He was going to be perfect. Everything had to be perfect for him. His hair was always kept short and neat, his clothes always pressed and sharp. He was born to be a Reichenbach Agent.
X
Three days before graduation there were two tests, the physical test and the written test. Oliver passed his physical test with flying colors. No one had any doubt about that. But he had to study for his written test. There were so many laws, and regulations he had to remember; he was afraid he would forget something.
Hours before the test was supposed to be taken place for their squad Oliver was studying with his friend Byron. "While going on a round up what do you do if you find a deform?" Byron asked. He bit his lip and looked up at him.
Oliver rolled his eyes. "I asked for hard questions," he said. "If I would find a deform I would detain them with handcuffs then take them to my car. I would then bring them to a check point and let those who are there take care of them."
Byron nodded. "What do you do if they fight back?"
"If they fight back shoot them but not kill, you only kill them if they have weapon against you," Oliver sighed. "What I don't understand is why we can't kill them all now and get it over with."
"We don't want to scare off the rest of the world," Byron explained. "You should know that. We want to explain to the rest of the world what we are doing."
Oliver shrugged. "They'll understand," he laughed. "England understood. I mean, no one is even fighting for those freaks."
Byron nodded in agreement. "There is a rumor that these creatures are being created," he said. "It can't be true though; there can't be any person with octopus legs."
Oliver reeled back and looked at him. "Where did you hear that?" he asked. "Sounds ridiculous."
"I heard one of the sergeants talking about it during breakfast this morning," Byron told him. "Really, I mean it. Don't laugh at me."
"They're probably just messing around," Oliver murmured. "No reason to believe something like that; can never happen. That would be like me sprouting fins and gills and becoming a fish."
"Why would it be like that?" Byron question.
"It's impossible that's why," Oliver said, rolling his eyes. "Come on next question." Byron shook his head and read off the next question.
X
Brilliant, that's how one would describe the feeling of being an RA. Oliver loved it. He graduated, passing his written test with only a few wrong questions. He was sent off on his first round up a few days after he graduated. He was being taught the ropes.
They pulled up to an old house and Anderson looked up at it. "This one should be easy," he told Oliver. "Just an old lady lives here, alone." Oliver nodded and they climbed out. He made sure he had everything before he started walking up to the house. "In the city, it's so easy to find these things, people push them out in the streets for us, but out here, it's harder. In the country people can hide better. That's why we conduct most of our searches out here."
Oliver glanced over at him. "Have you ever had to shoot any of them?" he asked.
Anderson nodded. "Oh yeah," he said with a smile. "I've been on hundreds of these things. I had this one kid whose parents pulled a gun on me once. In the end I got the kid. I left the parents alone; I couldn't touch them they're relatives to someone very high up in the government."
"And they had a deform?" Oliver asked. "Who would have a deform if they know someone in the government?"
"The Holmes," Anderson mumbled. "He's not allowed out of his house now. After that incident people are afraid he'll be keeping more deforms around. He seems fine with it though." He stopped in front of the door and knocked loudly. "Look over her folder."
Oliver nodded and read over her folder. "Georgia Handel was checked out a few years ago, nothing wrong with her. She seventy-two years old, never had children, her husband died six years ago."
Anderson nodded and knocked again. "If you ask me we should take every old person and throw them in the jail," he laughed. "Ms. Handel, open up, I'm a RA, if you do not open up we'll be forced to knock down the door and arrest you under suspicion of harboring a deform."
Oliver watched him and after a few more seconds was given a nod. He stepped back and ran to the door, shoulder first, and barreled through it. He coughed as a whole bunch of dust was shot into the air and he shook it from his hair. "Ma'am, it's best if you come out now," he called. He pulled out his gun and held it in front of him as he started walking through the house. He heard sobbing coming from a room and he walked over to it.
Pushing open the door Oliver saw the old woman lying in bed crying. "Please, leave me alone," she said. "I'm going to die soon, just leave me here. I'm not going to harm anyone."
Oliver looked over her and waved his hand in front of her face. The woman was blind. "Anderson," he called over his shoulder. He heard the heavy boots hit the floorboards in the hallway and a smile spread across his face. She was going to be taken care of right away.
"Look what we have here," Anderson said stepping closer to them.
"She's blind," Oliver told him.
"Oh good," Anderson smiled. He grabbed her by her arm and hauled her out of the bed. "You're under arrest."
"Please," Ms. Handel pleaded, "I don't want to go. Just let me live out the rest of my life here."
"Shoot her," Anderson commanded.
Oliver looked up at him. "What?"
"Shoot her, she's resisting, come on," Anderson shouted. "Right in the head, don't worry about the details."
Oliver swallowed and nodded. He cocked his gun and placed it on her forehead. He took in a deep breath and pulled the trigger. He cringed a bit but when Anderson dropped the lifeless body he calmed down. "That wasn't hard," he mumbled to himself.
"I think you would be a great executioner," Anderson laughed. "We got to call this in now, come on."
Oliver nodded and waited 'til Anderson was out of the room before turning to face the woman's body and spat on her. He grinned and walked out of the room. He didn't know his first time shooting someone was would feel so great. He felt so alive. Maybe he would be a better executioner.
X
A week after Oliver's first kill he was assigned to a jail. Once he got there he heard the news about the attack on the old government building. He was getting his bunk ready when he overheard a conversation.
He pulled his head back and he looked in the direction of the people speaking. "They were weird man," he said. "I was there for the attack. I saw one girl with hands as feet. Someone said it had been there for years."
"Without anyone knowing about it?" Oliver interjected. "Come on, you've got to be pulling my leg here."
"No, they were half animal, almost all of them," the guy said. "We stuck around for a bit, searched for a few things and we found a mass grave. There was a plaque that showed where it was. The guy running it was a genius. He was trying to figure out how to mix genes; apparently he was able to do it. Not everyone made it through. That's what the plaque said."
Oliver nodded and bit his lip. "I thought my friend was crazy," he laughed. He scratched his head and looked back at his bunk. "Any survivors?"
"Everyone was killed except for the scientist, we just left him there," he told him. "He was almost dead anyway."
Nodding slowly, Oliver went back to his bunk. There was no need to worry about any animal freaks anymore. He finished making his bed and pulled on his gear. He had to go on patrol around the jail.
As he started walking down the halls of the prison he looked into the doors. He sneered at the few who were still in their cells. They were filthy, why even keep them alive when they were going to spread the disease to the guards. The way they even looked at him made him feel sick. He pushed himself away from the doors and kept one hand on his gun.
He passed by another guard and he nodded towards him. The guard grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Warden wants to see you," he told him.
Oliver's stomach dropped. What would the warden want him for? It was his first day at the jail; he couldn't have already done something wrong. He nodded once and turned around. He jogged up to the warden's office and knocked on the door softly. He took off his hat and waited for permission to enter.
"Enter," Watson yelled.
Oliver swallowed hard and walked in. Watson was sitting behind his desk looking over some papers. He looked up at Oliver and nodded towards the chair in front of the desk. "You wanted to see me sir?"
"Ah, yes," Watson said with a smile. He stood up and walked around to the front of the desk. "I hear you want to be an executioner."
Oliver suppressed a grin. He just put that form in a few days ago and the warden was already speaking to him. "Yes sir," he said with a nod.
Watson nodded and read over his file. "You haven't been in for long. Just under two weeks, are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes sir, someone told me I would be perfect for the job," Oliver told him.
"I want to tell you something," Watson said, his face becoming very serious. "Executioner suicide rates are rather high, we only recommend it to people who have been in for longer than a year and have passed out psyche exam. Even then it doesn't help to bring down the rates."
Oliver frowned and looked down. "I understand sir," he sighed. "I just want to do my duty to this country."
Watson nodded. "I understand that, that's why I'm going to put you in with a therapist to see if you pass our exam and if you do you'll be able to work as an executioner."
"Thank you sir," Oliver said. He shook his proffered hand and smiled.
"Alright, you'll start your exam tomorrow," Watson said. "Leave my office."
Oliver saluted one last time before leaving the room. For the rest of the day he was walking on clouds.
X
After many hours of doing nothing but talking with a therapist Oliver was passed. He was found stable enough to serve as an executioner. He was ecstatic when he was allowed out of the room after a twenty four hour exam. He was allowed to sleep before he had to report to his new station where he would be given a new uniform and assigned a new leader. It was all very quick, it felt like he was on a stormy sea and nothing stopped until the storm broke at dawn.
He changed into his dark red uniform and made sure his handgun was secured at his side. He felt like a new man already. He walked into the executioner's room where he would pick up his orders for the day but he wasn't allowed to officially get started yet. He had to meet with his new leader and had to learn where everything was before he was allowed to go out to the wall.
"Banks," Moran shouted as he walked into the room. Oliver snapped into attention, his hand going up in a salute. "At ease," Moran muttered. "I don't have all day to baby sit you, so I'm going to give you a quick rundown of things then I'm going to give you a half page of names for today. Can you handle that?"
"Yes sir," Oliver said quickly. He didn't want to relax, unsure of what Moran was like. So far he seemed like he was going to be hard to work with. He would have to wait to see how the other guys acted around him. He followed Moran out of the room and into the armory.
"We're not allowed to take these anywhere other than the wall and here, understand?" Moran asked as he opened up the storage case full of rifles inside smaller cages. Oliver gave a sharp nod. "You will be assigned a rifle, only you will have access to it. You will be given a key that you keep at all times. It reduces the chance of someone taking the rifle and using for no good. Understand?" Oliver gave another nod. "Also, you have to clean and make sure your rifle is in good shape."
Moran closed up the storage case and led him out of the room. "These are our shower, sometimes things can get a little messy. We not only have to kill them, but we also have to take care of their bodies. All the blood goes down the drains and we're done for the day. Also, you're not allowed to bring anyone in here for any kind of intercourse. It's a bathroom only executioners are allowed in." Oliver grimaced and shook his head. "It happens, believe me."
Oliver was taken outside to the executioner's wall where people were lined up and shots were being fired. Oliver licked his lips and watched a few of the other executioners at work. "This is the wall," Moran told him. "This is where we conduct most of our work. You will be given a sheet with names on it and then you'll go to an open wall and call for the prisoners that you want to be brought here." He crossed his arms and looked down at the younger man. "Do you have all that?"
Oliver nodded and tore his eyes away from the men. "Yes sir," he said.
"After you kill them you take the body to the truck. You don't have to worry about it after that," Moran explained. He handed Oliver a clipboard and a set of keys. "Now get going, I don't have time to waste on you anymore. If you have any questions ask someone else, not me." He walked away back to his office where he had to do some paper work.
Oliver looked over the names on the sheet a small smile forming on his face. He swung the keys around his finger and went to go get his rifle. He unlocked the small cage and took out his rifle. He ran his fingers over the gun feeling relaxed as he did so. He shook his head and loaded the gun, bringing it out to the wall.
Finding his own spot he hung his clipboard up on the wall that separated him from the other executioners. He read over the first name and called the man up. Oliver wiped his forehead free of sweat and watched the door at the back of the wall.
A small old man was pushed out of the door and he stumbled forward, the chains clinking on the ground. His tired eyes looked up at Oliver, he was silently pleading with him.
Oliver raised his gun, took aim and shot the man square in the chest. He fell to the ground, blood flowing from the small hole and he was dead. The executioner slung his gun over his shoulder. He called for the next person before picking up the dead man bringing him to the pile that would be carted away. By the time he was back a small teen was waiting for him. He smiled and started the process again.
X
Oliver found out very quickly not many people talked with the executioners. Not even the executioners liked to talk to each other. They mostly just kept to themselves. When it was meal time they sat at their own table and no one bothered them. Oliver found that easily acceptable. He spent most of his life being quiet.
It wasn't until he started hearing rumors about a flying man, which sounded ridiculous, that he actually started talking with people. There was no way a man could fly. The only way there could be a flying man is if he was from the facility that was bombed a few weeks back. No one survived that though.
He just tried to shake his mind off it. He ended up thinking about it constantly. How could someone make creatures like that? It hurt him every time he tried to picture it. It disgusted him. The only time he could take his mind off it was when he was working. It relaxed him, feeling the gun jump back against his shoulder and hearing the body hit the ground it was nice. He wasn't sure why it affected so many people in such a bad way.
Every day though, all he heard about was the flying man. He seemed unstoppable. Oliver wished he could get his hands on him. He would have him dead in seconds. He just wanted to get it over with, maybe people would stop talking about it. It was one of his favorite dreams, killing the freak with his bare hands.
After the rumors of the flying man swept the prison, rumors of an attack flooded the halls. Oliver couldn't ignore this one. The warden gave the order to double up on security and keep an eye out. Oliver wasn't worried though, he knew the deforms weren't nearly as strong as they were and would be put down quickly.
Oliver was confident that the RA's had enough fire power to fight off any military in the world. He didn't do much for security, just made sure he had his keys on him. At any sign of an attack he would just run and get his rifle. Simple as that.
X
The night came when the warden gave the warning the attack was actually coming. He wasn't sure how man were coming and what they were bringing. He just wanted them all gone, he didn't care how.
Everyone's work was cut in half and was allowed to get some extra sleep time so they were awake for the night. They were told to hide, with whatever they had to fight with.
Oliver was hiding behind a wall, rifle clutched to his chest and his eyes shut. He was listening for any sound other than his comrades. He spent hours just listening to silence.
When he heard footsteps the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. They were here. Soon a firefight had started and people were dying around him. He was sure he saw a few glimpses of the intruders. He fired off a few good rounds, hoping they would at least knick the people.
After what seemed like hours a grenade was lobbed out in front of them and Oliver dove away from it. He and the other men got caught in the blast despite their best efforts. Oliver let out a yell as he felt his skin as it was torn. He clutched his arm and passed out.
X
The next time Oliver woke up he was staring up at a blonde man with blurry vision. "Did we win?" he asked.
The blonde shook his head. "No sir," he said. "But don't worry, you're still alive. You're safe."
Oliver sat up and went to rub his eyes but he only had use of one arm. He looked down to his left and noticed nothing was there. "Oh god," he almost yelled. He looked back over to the man and his eyes went even wider. It was the man with wings. His eyes went over the man's dark wings, the feathers shined in the light. He shook his head and pushed him away.
He jumped off his makeshift bed and ran away from the man. He heard shouts behind him and eventually was tugged to a stop. The dull eyes of his old best friend stared up at him. "Ollie, calm down," Dustin said. "You're okay."
Oliver tore his arm away from him. "No," he whispered. He turned around, seeing a man walk by with a gun. He pulled it out of his hostler and held it to his head. He had a deformation, the RA's lost. His whole life broke into pieces. He was filthy. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the trigger.
John ran forward and looked down at the lifeless body. "What happened?" he shouted and looked at the man who looked horrified. "Why didn't you stop him?"
The man looked at John. "I don't know," he said. "I couldn't. He was running and just stopped. I didn't have time to stop him."
John ran his fingers through his hair and looked around. "It's alright," he said. "You were scared." He looked down the empty hallway. "And he just stopped?"
"Stopped, said no and turned around to take my gun," the man said. "I would have stopped him if I could."
John nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's take care of him," he said. He grabbed the RA's feet and the man grabbed his hands. They carried him off setting with the other's that had to buried.
So? Tell me what you thought about it. I really would like to know. You're probably not going to hear much more about it, so if you didn't like it, don't worry, it gets better from here. Well, good luck, good day, good night. BYE!
