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Darks Past
Dark (Banned) 12th Nov 2014
David Johanson/Commander Darks past

 

          I woke up that morning later than normal, usually I woke to the sounds of my mom and dad fighting or screaming at each other to try and see who could yell louder. My mother and father hadn’t been the same since the depression within our house, my dad had lost his job as a mechanic at a local garage, and mother had been working as a nurse at the hospice. It was a difficult time and dad had turned to drugs and alcohol to solve his great issues, and mother had begun to sell some of dads reserves when he didn’t notice or was plainly put too high to even notice what was going on around him. Dad was a good man at one point he had served in the military as a mechanic. His job had been to work on jeeps, tanks, and halftracks. He had raised me up from birth to act and think like a soldier he had hoped by doing this I would join the armed forces.
          But it was uneasily quiet in the house that day. I was sort of disturbed by it, the quiet it was so deathly and horrible I would have done anything to hear a sound. It seemed however fate would grant my wish as I heard the clink of a weapon, most likely from the sound a 45. but if it was making a noise that would mean that the weapon had previously been discharged. I knew that within ten seconds someone was downstairs and they were armed. I snuck downstairs and the smell hit me, and hit me hard; the smell of blood.
          Then as I peek my head around the corner I see the man wearing a military uniform with tactical gear, who or what this man was doing was clear. He wasn’t there to try out my mom’s baking skills. I saw the man pull back the slide on his pistol slightly to check the ammo, he must’ve been satisfied because he shortly strolled away and walked to my fridge,, and that’s when I saw it my parents were on the floor with a bullet a piece in their skulls. This man not only came into the house but killed them without a struggle because things were in their regular places. My 55 year old father and my 49 year old mother were dead on the floor and had left behind a young 19 year old son with little to nothing.

          I turned my attention back to the man his ball cap had a name on the back of it the name tag read “Death” and had a little hand drawn grim reaper next to it. He had a platinum coated m4a1 assault carbine on his back with a silencer. He had his dipped completely into the fridge, so I grabbed my dad’s bayonet off his mantle, then I slowly snuck up on this man strong and tall and as he turned around he had a look of shock on his face as though he had seen a ghost. He struggled for his pistol as I plunged the bayonet right into his throat, his warm blood pooled down my forearm as the man gurgled and spat up blood. I felt a sense of deep dark pleasure from this feeling, but I cast it aside as I realized what I had done. I thought about it for nearly an hour before I told myself I started here why not keep on going I’ll use a different name find my grandpa maybe he knew something.