The Sniper
A short story by Kagi
Lying on the roof all was silent and all was dark; he could barely make out his surroundings in the blanket of thick black fog that surrounded him. He was uncomfortable sprawled on the concrete surface with not as much as a coat to cover him from the bitter cold.
Stretching, he yawned, covering his mouth with his hands and letting his eyes flutter closed. Boy, was he tired.
His stomach grumbled loudly. Clutching it, he tried to remember when he’d last eaten but the only thing that came to mind was the cigarette he had taken earlier on that day. Cursing himself silently, he vowed to eat something decent after he’d finished the job. The job.
Only a couple of meters away was the man, or the sniper, whom he would take the life of. It was against everything he had ever believed in. Taking a life was murder but under these conditions he had no choice. It was a matter of kill or be killed.
The war was ongoing, fickle. Bullets hailed the skies were peaceful rain once was, guns sat in the arms of young men where their children used to lie, cradled, sleeping. All the smiles had turned to sneers, trust was no more an option. It was an eye for an eye, a man for a man, a life for a life. It was a relentless battle where father would take up arms against son and brother against brother. It was inhuman to think of the lives being torn apart by hate.
Peering cautiously over the parapet roof, he caught a glimpse of light, only a flicker but enough to cause him to let his fingers brush over the trigger and release a bullet. The sound was deafening like an onslaught of vicious rolls of thunder. Clamping his trembling hands over his ears, he wondered about his aim. Had he finally committed his first murder? Cautiously, he slivered across the roof until he was completely shadowed by the chimney. Lifting himself up, he drew his eyes level with the safeguard. He managed to capture a glimpse of movement on the roof opposite to him. A wave of relief flooded through him. He had missed. Swearing lightly, he wondered if he’d ever get used to this murderous onrush of killings. Would he ever know of the adrenaline pulsing through his veins as his other comrades had? Pushing his thoughts aside, he thought of his younger brother. Would he believe him, if he ever got the chance to tell him about what he did? What he would do? He smiled fondly as he replayed memories of the better times, the times when it was easier, simpler.
Jumping slightly, he heard the roar of a car. It was painted black with night and the soft cough of the engine caused him to listen closely. He heard voices; curiously he risked a quick peek at the situation metres below him. He could just make out a small woman in a short, shaggy, shawl with bedraggled hair whispering quietly to someone in the turret of the car. Briskly she pointed at the opposite roof and waved frantically. The next thing, a loud bullet pierced the air and the man that once stood stiffly in the turret now lay sprawled over the hard, grey metal. His head detached from his body, lying spurting blood on the path below. The woman shrieked, letting out a pure, shrill cry of utter terror before she too fell, flailing into the gutter beside her comrade. He stared at the unraveling scene before him. The sniper on the roof a couple of metres away from his was silent.It all seemed to have happened so quick, so damn quick. Suddenly, he realised the grey car wasn't there. It must have sped away while it could, he thought to himself. Gone so quick, almost like watching a magician perform a trick; It was there one minute and gone the next.
Looking again at the mangled bodies below, he choked, gagging weakly. The enemy sniper, had just killed two innocent people. How could someone be so cold blooded? He felt his body stiffen in rage, The man deserved to die a merciless death. Gripping his revolver, he regained his position; he was in perfect shooting range. Before long, he heard the clatter of a gun fall heavily to the ground in the distance. In the blink of an eye, he let loose of the trigger, firing a hard bullet in the direction where he last saw the sniper. Hearing a satisfying yelp then the inaudible sounds of footsteps stumbling to stay up right. His arm shook violently from the recoil, gripping his arm tightly,his teeth began chattering from the severe dynamism of the shot. Tentatively he raised his head, searching the roof opposite to his. Squinting, he tried to see some sign of movement. Then he saw it. The man’s head, covered with a cap, draped gingerly over the embankment. Still trembling he lifted his gun and took aim. He shot once more to make sure he hit his target. He braced himself for the recoil but found that it wasn't as bad as the first.
The sniper’s cap fluttered to the ground, its silhouette visible against the western night’s sky. A hand,his enemy’s hand, dangled lifelessly over the edge. Suddenly overcome with compassion, he grasped the chimney to steady himself. His mind was going crazy. I’ve killed a man. The air was chillly against his skin, the cold nip in the wind like small ants eating into chunks of his skin. Bitten with remorse he stood up slowly, his hand it his matted hair, he decided to go and retrieve the body and bring it to a proper grave, whilst searching for the the remains of his enemy's body.
Suddenly, a shot of unimaginable pain fired through his stomach, He yelled out as the bullet made its exit. He looked up, his enemy was standing up, his hands over his head as if in triumph. He couldn't be sure but in the dim light of Dublins moon he thought he just looked into the face of his brother on the face of his enemy. Blood was pooling around his feet but he could no longer see a thing, all was blurry as he toppled slowly… slowly… to the ground below, to the rest of the victims the sniper had eliminated.
This version has been edited a couple of times and will continue to be edited until it finds perfection, or somewhere near there.
So, reviews are appreicated. Thank you.
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