Warning: Blood, guns, violence, blah blah blah. Also, I don't how guns work or anything about the military so... (story inspired by the song above.)
"Do we have a lock on the target?"
"Yes sir, we have a lock. But, sir-"
"Prepare to fire on my orders."
"Sir, is this... He's just a kid."
"Are you questioning my orders, soldier?"
"No, sir. Sir, just requesting more details about the target, sir."
"Request denied. Prepare to fire on my orders." The general repeated.
"Yes, sir." The soldier said.
Alec Lightwood was one of their best.
"Ready," The general said.
He was a straight shooter.
"Aim."
He never missed.
"Fire."
And he was a traitor.
The soldier knew that, but still. It seemed wrong to kill him. After all, he was just a kid. Seventeen years old, to be exact.
And here he was about to shoot him when he wasn't even armed.
"Soldier! I said fire!"
"Yes, sir, sorry, sir."
And he fired.
The raven-haired boy turned around at the sound, his blue eyes wide in surprise. But it was already too late for him to dodge it. It lodged itself right in his chest. Even from the distance, the soldier could see the boy suck in a breath before collapsing onto the cold cobblestone street he stood on, blood pooling around him. The soldier swallowed. Had he really just killed a child?
"Nice work, soldier." The general patted him on the back. "Let's go collect the body."
He really had just killed a child.
"Yes, sir."
The soldier flicked the safety on his gun, pushed his helmet up an inch, and started down the ladder on the side of the three-story building they stood on.
His feet landed on the road with a quiet thump, and he continued down the road almost silently, the only noise he heard was the loud beating of his own heart filling his ears, and the faint splish splash as his boots hit the puddles scattered across the streets.
He had just killed a child.
He turned a corner, and the street turned to cobblestone. This is where the boy was.
But looking at the road, there was nothing but puddles. Puddles of rain, and, right where the boy had been shot, blood.
But there was nobody to be seen.
"Um, General?"
"Oh, bloody hell, where'd he go?!" The General spat, literally. The Soldier could feel his spit on the back of his neck. The General pushed past him, kneeling down next to the puddle of blood. It was starting to rain again, lightly, quietly.
Had he killed a child?
Had he?
If he had, then where was the body? The boy couldn't have possibly just gotten up and walked away. It wasn't possible. Or was it? He didn't know what to think, whether to be happy or upset, for Alec Lightwood is the reason they were losing this war, this war they had lost so many good men in, this war his best friend had died in. But again, if he hadn't really killed a child... If he didn't...
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
Malec Shorts
Hayran Kurgu⚠️ Warning, I wrote these in middle school so they're really old 😭 ⚠️ Just what the title says. Malec short stories. Some are funny, some are sad, some are happy, some are just weird. Most of these are just random ideas I had that weren't long eno...
