(Do not read the old version in the spoiler, unless you want to laugh at the rhyming style that it's written in
) 20. Destroyers of Worlds
Spoiler! :
The Sergeant held his rifle so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His heart had been pounding in his throat the entire helicopter trip. He and the army riding with him, along with the others in the accompanying planes, had been given very explicit or orders on what their task was. They were the most horrendous yet simple orders that were limited by no borders. The Sergeant squinted against the glare of his gun as it reflected sun light.
Jets flew past, their roars louder than the thrashing waves of the vast blue ocean below. The Sergeant had seen whales ride the swells back when the helicopter was flying over the open ocean. He hadn't been able to help, but become entranced by them. He closed his eyes. It was really happening he was about to take place in the greatest human slaughter of all time. If he had run off he would have been hunted down under the of being AWOL. Something that had become a serious crime.
When he opened his eyes he could see the mainland. A city sparkled under the sun's rays. The water beneath him shimmered by in a rush. He felt a cool sea breeze brush his face. He inhaled the fragrance. It would be the last good smell he would ever have to cherish. A great cloud of smoke was about to rise out of that city and some of the ashes will be human.
The Sergeant felt goose bumps on his flesh. The soldiers with him had the eyes of men on their way to the noose. And yet we are the executioners. What is it the Americans say, "Beggars can't be choosers?" I'm sorry American civilians but today you will suffer as the world is reduced in numbers. What was it we were told? "You are not of any nation you are the nation. And your relation to it is one of a gardener trimming his beloved when it grows too wild. A necessary sacrifice to ensure its prosperity."
Such dark words as sharp as swords. But they will not make me stop serving my lord. What their Commanding officer said was absolutely terrifying. "Do not crush every Church building into rubble, it'll make it easier for us to hunt down these myth believers along with the environmentalists once we are back in control saving us the trouble of searching for underground groups like we do back home." If only you knew I am one of those underground souls you are speaking against.
He bent his head slightly downward to keep his face in shadow. The Sergeant did not want the others to know that he was afraid. Not afraid for his life or his brother's in arms, but for the civilians.
He scanned the perimeter; there were hundreds of planes in every direction. For the people who planned this this was perfection. I can not let this take place. There must be something I can do.
The Sergeant nearly jumped when explosive winds whistled from outside. He saw missiles streak all around him. The Sergeant felt a slick tear slide down his cheek. It has followed by more. He turned away from the other men who were as silent as the grave. Never in his life since he was a child had the Sergeant cried.
Today there is no such thing as being brave. This is no war what mankind seems to crave. This is a blood roast. And this is happening at every coast. We hang over the world like an unholy ghost. We are the Destroyers of worlds. Do not fear. But how! And what can I do now? God you know that only to you I bow. I need you to give me strength right now. They told us there was to be little or no resistance so how can this be stopped? Or if this must happen then how can it be turned into something much less than it has to? I confess I have been wrong to doubt whenever things don't go as I please. But right now I shout your name! I realize they are about to slaughter your children. Both those who have already come to you and those who have not. You stopped the attack on Israel like you promised, can you at least make these predatory birds weak?
There was a clunking sound coming from the helicopters machine guns. The same sound was coming from the others which shimmering like a hundred suns around him. "The turrets are jammed!" shouted the pilot as the copilot fumbled with the controls.
"It's no good, nothing's firing!" barked the copilot.
A smile creased the Sergeant's lips. He could almost yelp in amazement because of the weapons not working. The men riding in the chopper with him exchanged confused glances.
He leaned forward as the pilot conferred over the radio. The combined noise of all the rotor blades and sonic booms drowned out most of what the voice coming from the radio.
"We're still going through with this men! Ready your weapons!" said the pilot. The Sergeant shook with sadness he felt like a hen who had to protect her offspring against a sky full of hawks. When he took the safety of his weapon the planes were already past the docks. He wasn't about to fire down on civilians. That would make him a killer and a lyer to God.
My wife, you are my life. My precious son and daughter. Your father is no longer a murderer. No more war for me. I only wish I could be with you three. One day we will be all be free. But not today.
"You're clear to engage!" came the Commander’s voice over the radios of everyone in the helicopter. He knew the sounds that would come next. No! Is this trimming going on back home! No, please no. They said that we are the nation! The slaughter is global! Of course that was what was meant by "no borders!"
The shooting of a thousand guns blazed. Rockets from shoulder mounted launchers whizzed to the ground. The screams from below made his heart flutter with each explosion. He pointed his rifle to the ground, pretending to be choosing strategic targets. Puffs of white dust burst from the ground with each press of the trigger. He was shooting at concrete. Lord, don't let anyone notice. If I could only... were any of the jets equipped with nuclear weapons? I could figure out a way to set a bomb off once we are out of this coastal city and flying high in the sky over empty fields. The electrical magnetic pulses should have a similar result as that of Israel. Poor damned souls.
He exhaled a breath that he didn't know he had been holding when his gun clicked, signaling that it was empty. As he went through the reloading process slowly, he pondered if he could really do it? He ground his teeth in frustration, the tears still fresh on his face. The clock was ticking and all he had was a glock and his rifle.
The Sergeant eyed an anti-air weapon held by a young red haired soldier. He looked away quickly and peered down the scope of his gun when the soldier gave him a suspicious look. At least, that's what his mind thought, but the soldier was probably just as frightened about what he was doing.
As the Sergeant changed his tactics to firing at buildings, he realized how foolish his plan was. Nuclear weapons wouldn't be carried in such a large group of air craft as this. They no doubt learned that from the Russians ill fate. As far as he knew, that attack wasn't planned. Or so, General Cyrus said. The Sergeant didn't trust that man, despite how his fellow soldiers ate every word he said. The man spoke like a deceiver.
Explosions sparked up from the ground like miniature volcanic eruptions. It was all he could do from shooting down every plane he could. The Sergeant stopped firing and
************************
Three of Andrew’s classes were over with; one more remained before lunch time. He could already feel his annoyance begin to build. Sam usually blabbered about how school meals had been altered since the days that their parents were kids. But he didn't dread it so much today. Andrew been growing tired of snoring in his mind. Mr. Ezekiel, his AP Government teacher had the class write a two page essay about the plane hijackings of September eleventh, two-thousand one.
Andrew wiped his brow. Then swiped his pen over five sheets of narrow ruled notebook paper faster than a speeding arrow. He wrote a very dramatic essay about the events. He knew a lot about it thanks to his grandfather and grandmother, who were now dead.
He honestly couldn't say that he missed them much. He did have some fond memories with them, but they were far in between in his life. In a sense, their stories served as mere history lessons. Andrew bit his lip, feeling like a monster.
"How is everybody coming with your essays?" said Mr. Ezekeil, his arms gesturing as he talked.
"I'm done sir," Andrew said.
"Did, you enjoy the nice change compared to note taking?"
"Yes, Mr. Ezekiel, note taking didn't exactly take much effort did it?"
Mr. Ezekile smiled and said, “You little barbarian. How dare you slaughter so many trees?”
The classroom rang with chuckles. Andrew almost felt like smiling. He looked around the room. Most kids were still hard at work scribbling on paper. The 911 essay really was a nice change compared to the constant material thrown at him about population in his other classes. Of course last month of Government was dedicated almost entirely to population and its effects on politics. August was the month that he started to look at his environment through different eyes.
Reasonable thinking and blinking eyes, not lunatic paranoid shifty eyes like the conspiracy absorbed Sam. If he had ended up in the same Government class as the pathetic Sam Andrew would have switched out before the teacher could even call his name on the roll.
All the bizarre changes in the media and of the United States however, wasn’t something to be ignored and labeled nonsense. Change wasn't just happening in large cities; even the community of Mandan wasn't spared. The real-estate billboard that he passed in Sam’s truck every day hadn't seemed so harmless anymore. Sam, ironically found that billboard to be a riot.
Sometimes Andrew secretly wondered if all that was happening was a prelude to something that would change their way of life forever. He put his head down on his desk, planning to stay that way until the bell rang.
Remember! Opening lines should be interesting, and they should make your audience want to keep reading. 
Adjectives and verbs are my enemies. But, I will see what I can do. If anything. 
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