by Leon Terrix
In the darkness of the night, I watch you steal across the field.
You try to be stealthy. That camouflage that you wear can almost
fool me. But you can't escape my scope. Not you, not anyone.
Without suspicion, you keep moving. I can see clearly the AK-74 that you clutch so tightly in your hands. I can almost smell your fear.
Following your movement through my scope, wrapping my finger around the trigger of my M40A1, holding my breath, without a second
thought, I lightly squeezed the trigger.
You fall so ungracefully on your back. You lie motionless, wondering what has happened. Still breathing, you try to move. Your blood gushes out of your chest, drenching your camouflage. Mouth wide open, you gasp for that last breath of air. Your eyes bulging out as you grabbed for your gun.
Meticulously shifting my aim, I let out another round. Your body
shivers and flinches as the bullet splinters your skull, giving no
time for your eyes to close.
No mercy. No mercy at all. Don't let me catch you with my scope.