Goddamn the gun. She had lost the place where she had loaded the last bullet available. Now she would have spin the barrel six times till she got that unfortunate place with the last bullet. Hopefully the bullet showed up soon, and took away her life. It was almost like playing Russian roulette, only that those senseless bastards who did such stupid things were relieved when they heard a click instead of a bang...
She pulled the trigger once...
Click
She wanted to die, and soon. The moment she stopped, they would catch her. The last surviving scion of the Magna family ought to die proudly, than remain in suspended animation, while the lowest of mages would feed on her power.
She pulled the trigger again.
Click
They would use her powers for all the wrong stuff. She would be used to do the very same thing she rebelled against. Why else had she rebelled? It was in the blood of the Magna's to rebel. But she never had been of Magna blood. The wasted elders adopted her when they found out about her true powers.
She pulled the trigger.
Click
She always had been a pawn. Orphaned, then plagued by spirits and powerful demons, all who wanted her powers.
That bloody trigger again.
Click
To hell with the idiotic Empire, to hell with the War Lords using their precious power like children. To hell with the bull shit about the Magnas and the Rebellion. She was forcing herself to die young just to protect the secrets of the Rebellion.
She pulled the trigger once more.
Click
She now realized, it was the sixth barrel that held the bullet. It suddenly seemed as if the Good and Benign Lord was encouraging her to fight back. She must live. Fight back...For now she had to run, she would have to find refuge somewhere...She won't pull the trigger now. She felt, no, she knew that killing herself was futile, because like everything in the Empire, her powers and her life was precious. Too precious to waste.
Her movements had become mechanical. She moved her feet with renewed desperation, because she now wanted to live again. But her movements had become mechanical. She moved mechanically, and the index finger of the hand that held the gun, it squeezed the trigger mechanically...
She could not stop herself from pulling the trigger for the sixth time; and the final time.
Now she mourns out her story to every person, well not exactly alive, so let's just say to every sentient thing she finds in her lonely war memorial/graveyard.
YOU ARE READING
The Blank
ParanormálníCaution: If you are in a lonely place and hear any raspy, hurried breathing or feel that you are being watched, then please follow the instructions given below carefully. This is for your general safety, especially when doing potentially dangerous...
