text: (this story was inspired by the metro series) I was scared It was pathetic honestly, I wasn’t even the one about to get shot in the head in fact I was going to shoot him in the head, so why was I so afraid of something that wasn’t even going to happen to me?, I was scared of the fact that this will be the first human life I’ll take. I lay in bed that morning dreading what was to come, dreading the knock on the door to tell me to get up and shoot a man, all because we found out he was a traitor, it was even worse because he was my friend I didn’t want to do this god please, I prayed to whatever god still existed until I heard a knock then a voice telling me to get up, it was time. I followed him in the dimly lit tunnels that we called home, children running and playing while their parents watched, or friends getting together for a meal, and people begging for just a coin to put something in their belly, but I wasn’t focused on that instead I focused ahead on the taller man leading me to that place, we finally arrived he turns the crank and the metal door opens with a creak and inside I see our leader standing, a revolver resting in his hand, I look ahead and almost puke at the sight of my bloodied and beaten friend tied in a chair, his ragged and heavy breathing made me worry that he could die any second, but he wasn’t dead yet. The general nodded at the taller man silently telling him to leave us be, he nods back and closes the door, the only sounds left in the room are the breathing of my friend in the chair and the light above flickering every once in a while. The general looks me dead in the eye and hands me the revolver, “do it” he tells me “kill this traitor to show your loyalty to our group”. I take it and slowly walk up to him, he looks up at me and smiles, I see no hate in his gaze I sense nothing at all, I only see regret and sadness, I put the revolver against his forehead and cock it, “do it” he says in a whisper, my hand shakes “please” he begs tears streaming down his bloodied cheeks, “I’m okay if it’s you” his voice is breaking now, and he looks straight at me, I choke back a sob and close my eyes as I finally steady my hand and pull the trigger. I wish that was the last, but he was the first of many more I’ve killed so many I’ve lost count, killing changes a man eventually you become used to it but is that a good thing? To be so comfortable taking another person’s life, they could have had a life, friends, family maybe even children and you come along and take it from them. I took only one more life after that, my own.