8 Letters and a Lot of Bullets

Love Knows No Bounds

"Freeze"

Your blood ran cold as you looked at the grey concrete trying to figure out what to do. Sure you had shot guns before but having one pointed at you was a whole new feeling. "Okay.... okay...... chill..... don't hurt me please...." You said as you stand up with your hands higher than you and Saul got at parties. Your knees shake, and your heart threatened to break out of your rib cage. "Turn around..... slowly." You complied and turned to face him. He yanked his cloth mask down to reveal the bottom half of his face, the top covered with a tinted visor. All you could see was an amused smirk. He nagged his shirt closer to his mouth and spoke into his radio "Command, what do we do with civilians?" A staticky voice said back, "Kill them all." Your face paled. You felt like you were going to throw up. A man was pointing a rifle at you with orders to kill. A groan escaped one of the suspension cables. "Oh god....." you said tearfully. The terrorist pulled his mask back up to match his visor. His visor came alight as his HUD displayed something on the inside. "God's gonna sit this one out." "Please don't hurt me...." you whimpered. You hoped these didn't become your last words.

They wouldn't.

A disgusting noise flooded your ears as one of the suspension cables strained from the structural damage. Miraculously, it somehow snapped, sending tremors throughout the whole bridge. This distracted the solider, giving you all the opportunity you needed. You rushed him and put your left hand on the front of his PDR-C, angling it away from you. You used your right hand to elbow his jaw, sending his head spinning and causing him to drop his rifle. In retaliation, he whipped around and gave you a mean left hook. Goddamn, hard knuckle gloves hurt. You two were full-on brawling now, and his armor definitely gave him an advantage. You threw a punch, but he dodged under it and hit you in the stomach. Hard.  You staggered and tried to regain your balance, but he took the opportunity and ran at you, slamming you into a scorched Toyota. He headbutted you against the wall and let go, dropping you to the ground. Dazed, you coughed up blood, it shimmering crimson against the September sun on the pavement. His steel toe boot met your ribs. Repeatedly. "Stay on the ground like the filth you are...you'll see your friend soon enough." He said coldly. This is what made you snap. You swallowed, salty tears distorting your vision. 

Seeing red, you let a warcry escape your mouth as you whip around, your fist connecting with his groin. You literally felt something pop, giving you a confidence boost as the terrorist wailed in pain. "No homo..." was all you responded with as he fell to his knees. You kicked the bucket off of his head so hard you might've fractured a toe. "YOU FUCKED WITH THE WRONG CITY!!"  You yelled in his now bleeding face. You picked him up by his vest and threw him against the bridge railing.  An evil smile formed on your face. You brought down a closed fist on his face shattering his visor and sending polarized shards of glass into his eyes. As a last ditch attempt to kill you, he managed to reach for a handgun on his waist, struggling to bring it up. Fortunately, you noticed this and attempted to pin his arm and the handgun to the ground. He pulled the trigger and a few rounds escaped the gun, startling you. He waved it around wildly under you, firing off at random. He rolled, trying to escape your grip, and got you off of him, causing the gun to slide a few feet away. You pounced on it, gripping it with everything you had, whipping it around, lining the sights up with your eye using a single hand, and pulled the trigger once, getting a shot to the upper neck as he tried to get up. He was dead before he hit the cement. It was only then that what you did really got to you. " Holy shit... I just killed someone..." You felt like you were going to throw up. You had just ended a human life. But he deserved it.... right?

You walked unsteadily towards his rifle. For a mostly polymer PDW, it was pretty heavy. Holding it made you feel empowered, dangerous. With the PDR-C, a few mags stolen from the terrorist, and an M9, you felt like you could take on anyone and everyone involved in this attack. "What now?" You thought aloud. A bone-chilling shriek of