The Soldier Next Door

There is a dead darkness that settles over my heart as I hear the echo of a voice come from the kitchen.

Can people not fucking knock?

Well, it does not seem like they can. Guess this asshole will have to be taught a lesson.

So I reach for my back and take my Ruger firmly gripped in my hand.

Ya, someone tried to run me off the road so I am going to make sure that I am ready.

So I take one deep breath, I step closer, there is a rumble of a voice that comes from in front of me. With the darkness that fills the room, I can only make out a silhouette, I am going to guess that this is a man in front of me. I have only one thing to do, and that is face what will be my end today.

And it is with slow agony that I do so. Each little scuffle my feet make, I prepare myself for what awaits me. Will it be a gun to my head, or will it be a knife to the chest. Whichever way, I truly do not think that any pain can be worse than the one that I am already feeling.

And with that, I step two steps closer. And as I do, I can start to make out the form of a man, he is shorter and somewhat less built than me. It is with great ease that I grab him around the waist and tackle him with force down to the floor. Though I might have underestimated his build, his power and skill are right there to match mine. It takes me, but only a few twists and turns and a rather large thud in the gut, and I have him under control.

But…

“Who the fuck are you?”

The fury that is building inside me is boiling to the top and is about to erupt.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

“Who the fuck are you?”

He only but remains quiet, so I press the Ruger into his side, his body freezes, and he stops squirming around.

“Answer me. Who the fuck are you?”

He only but utters three words, “You are expendable”

“We will see about that.”

How far am I willing to go?

So I only but strengthen my grip as I hold my Ruger firmly.

If there was ever a time, then now is the right time to stop myself from what I am about to do. I can beat the shit out of this asshole and let him go home, but I know that tomorrow, he will be back again.

So I only but look at this man, that is still securely pinned to the floor; I give him a once over, and then slowly I raise my gun.

“You will not disrespect me in my own house.”

I am met with the eyes of one horrified man. He is stared in the face by the barrel of a gun.

I gently squeeze the trigger and can feel a slight jolt from the force of the power of the bullet that escapes the barrel of my gun.

He drops his gun, and it falls next to him on the floor.

I can hear the sound muffle as the bullet travels through the silencer.

He clasps his hands into fists and closes his eyes.

I can almost see the bullet travel through the air as it makes the short distance in mere milliseconds.

I can see his shirt stain red where I shoot him in the chest.

I pull the trigger one more time…and this is where I need to decide if I am going to become a stone-cold killer.

So I slowly slide off from where I have him pinned to the chest. He lies there in agony while I keep my gun on him.

As he rises to his feet, he only but fumbles as he tries to stand up; he is clinging to his chest, which I am sure is hurting like a bitch. He only but looks at me as he makes his way to the backdoor.

Then just as he is about to leave, “I will be back.”

With that, I raise my gun. It is in three…two…one.

Then I hear a loud bang.

I have made my way to the door where the man is trying to make his exit from. 

“I am not going to ask you again, who the fuck are you?”

He only but bursts out in a fit of laughter, “It is not who I am but who sent me.”

Anything can go wrong here. Fuck! This is a mess.

I watch the man as his focus is mainly on his wounds, so I grip my gun firmer in my hands. I feel as the coldness of the barrel sends a shiver up my spine, or is it from what I know is going to happen. I love the feeling as I hold it in my hand. The feeling of power that runs through your veins as you wrap your hand around the grip and place your finger on that trigger. For that one single second, you are in control.

But, as I stand here, I only but shake my head. I have never shot a man for no real reason before. And I don’t think I really want to start today.

Then again, I need to protect my family.

This is about to go south.

I take a deep breath and ask for the one last time.

Now, with every choice you make in life, there comes that moment where you have the time to stop and think if this is really what you want to do. That split second that will determine between what is right or wrong. That moment that will define who you are and the path your life is going to take.

I am about to make that decision.

I need to decide if I am going to let this leave.

And it happens in absolute slow motion. 

I raise my gun and aim it firmly at him, who, to my fucking surprise, has taken that very gun that I know he would be hiding.

Now, we have a good old stand-off, and fuck, everything is going to go wrong.

If I thought that this man will back down, I was wrong; he is staring a barrel in the face, and yet he is still standing his ground.

I gently squeezes the trigger, and there is a slight jolt from the force of the power of the bullet that escapes the barrel of the gun.

The man clasps his hands into a fist as he drops his gun.

The bullet travels through the air as it makes the short distance in mere milliseconds

He falls back with a loud thud.

I pulls the trigger one more time and hit him in the head.

As I stand over him, for a moment I am expecting to break down, but my heart feels assured that I have done the right thing.

But then…

I hear a scuffle from behind me.

As I spin around, there are two guys behind me with their guns drawn. 

So, in as little as only an inch of two seconds, I unleash fire onto the two men that are standing in front of us.

As they fall to the floor, I finally sigh in relief. 

This was fucking close. I did not think that I would get ambushed in my own home.

Someone has declared war.

What happens now is the big question.

So once the craziness has calmed down, and I find myself having to explain to the very same Officer as before, why I have three dead men in my house.

His very exact words, “You just can’t stay out of trouble.”

But needless to say, I can really claim that it was self-defence this time around.

So after they had a thorough check of the house and taking all the evidence they could possible find lingering at the back from where they gained entry at the back door, I head to the shower to get the feeling of…death…of my skin.

And as I stand in there for a good forty-five-minutes, the only thing that is running through my mind is that I need to speak to Ana. I don’t know what to say to her. How am I going to tell her that I just killed three men and that I am so goddamn thankful that I force her away from her home?

Well, that will come to mind, but as for now she does not need to know what has happened here. So as I fall down onto the bed, I flip the screen until her number pops up. It only takes her but a few seconds and she has answered my call.

“Ethan!”

“Hi, boo. I just wanted to check in and see if you are okay?”

“Me? Okay? No I am not fucking okay!”

I swallow rather deeply as I truly do not feel like a big argument at the present moment. But she soon raises her voice even a fraction louder.

“How the fuck must I be okay if you are killing people in our home?”

I think she knows.