The Obedient Soldier

The First

"JAMES!!" she yelled, "Breakfast is going to get cold if you don't hurry!!"

Ten minutes passed, still no James.

What is that boy doing?! She thought as she climbed the steps that connected the kitchen to the upstairs. Reaching her son's bedroom, she turned the knob only to find the door locked. Typical for a teenager.

"James, you are going to be late and it's your first day! C'mon now, open the door."

No reply.

"James, open the door."

Nothing.

"William James Gaten you open this door right now!"

Again, nothing.

The young mother started to become concerned, because while James was known for not listening, he did always answer when his full name was used.

She reached above the door frame and retrieved a small key, which was then used to unlock the boy's door.

"James?" came the whisper of a concerned mother, "Are you okay?" She walked into the small messy room to find two teenage boys passed out, one on the bed, the other on a bean bag chair. Recognizing the former as her son but not being able to place the latter, she walked quietly over to her son and shook his shoulder gently. "James get up! Who is that in your chair? How did he get in here? James?"

No reply came from the boy.

"James, you wake up right now!" She shook his shoulder a little more roughly but the boy did not wake up. Growing concerned, she continued calling the boy's name and shaking his shoulder, but to no avail, James remained in what appeared a sleep like state.

The young mother turned to the other boy, hoping he might be awakened and help explain why James was ill. She recognized him as Peter, James's best friend. Peter also would not wake up, so she shook him rather roughly on the shoulder. Her hand came back covered in something that looked and smelled of blood.

"No.." She whispered frantically, "No!"

Rushing to her own son's side, the mother reached up and felt his head. The cold feeling of his skin sent a shiver down her spine. "James? Baby?" She checked for pulse, praying her son's heart to still be beating. Feeling nothing but cold skin, she fell to her knees. Tears formed in her eyes. No, not my boy, not him. He's okay, he has to be.

The creaking of her son's closet door made her turn sharply. A man loomed over her, a man with a gun. "You shouldn't have come in here." This isn't real. The woman backed up quickly, stopping to avoid tripping over her dead son.

"Wh- Did you do this?" Her voice was shaky and her knees felt weak. The man looked concerned, remorseful even. "You shouldn't have come in here." He raised his gun, his blue eyes glistening with... were those, tears? Staring down the gun, the woman covered her mouth in an attempt to muffle a sob. "Ple-"

A noise that was similar to that of a Nerf gun firing sounded, the woman falling to the ground with a low thump. The man unloaded his gun, putting the clip at his side and tucking the silencer into his jacket. Time for mission report.