You return home, and see the slaughter. Your family, all dead, disemboweled, their insides are out. You weren’t here when they needed you. You sink to your knees, bereft. You will never forgive yourself. A noise breaks you out of your grief. You realise that they are still here, the ones who did this, the ones who murdered your family. You reach for your rifle. Full auto should sort these fuckers out. You stand, and walk outside. You see them, they are many and you are one. In a split second you make the decision to run, to survive, even though you don’t deserve it. It’s too late, they’ve seen you, now there is no choice, you have to fight. You start firing. One by one they fall, but you are hit in your arm, your hand, your shoulder, your ear is gone. You keep firing until your gun clicks impotently. You drop it and take out your knife. You run at the one who remains. You slice your knife into his femoral artery, blood is everywhere. The world goes black.

Later, you come to. You look up to see me smiling down at you. One eye is hidden behind a metal mask. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now, I’ve got you.” You close your eyes and exhale with relief. I stroke your cheek with a soft hand. I carefully take the knife from your hand. “It’s okay, sleep now.” I slide the knife across your throat. Your eyes open wide, your hand tries to keep the blood in, as if you can somehow hold life in. I watch your face as you gurgle your last breath. I take your stuff.

Credit: Teekhup