The sun scorched burns into our necks as the horn rang. A low guttural roar of anger and hatred. The cracking of guns and the stomps of horses filled the air. I was there in the pack, so blinded by the atrocities that the enemy had done, that I didn’t care what we did to them.

Our horses easily jumped their measly trenches as we charged their camps. Gunshots followed by screams filled the early morning air. I took part in the pleasure, of seeing the enemy, get what they deserved. My finger moved and the enemy didn’t. Smoke began to fill the afternoon air as our campaign continued. Burning those devils back from where they came from.

We didn’t let anyone leave, we made every single one of them pay. Every. Last. One. No one could stop our righteous revenge. It was late afternoon when we had finally rid the world of that plague.

I was riding back towards camp when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Just the slightest bit. Could’ve been a squirrel or some other rodent, but I walked over there regardless.

It was the enemy.

He was bleeding profusely from his leg, he was suffering from an atrophy. I pointed my rifle to the back of his head. His body when ridged, and he started crying. *served him right* He was moaning and crying in a language I didn’t understand, but I knew it was demonic. He pulled out a picture from his pocket, the man with his arm wrapped around a woman. His wife I assumed. And between them was a little girl with auburn brown braids falling down her shoulders. The girl looked a lot like my daughter, who just turned 7, this past month.

The man was still sobbing profusely, trying the crawl away. I pressed my finger to his head, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. I demanded myself to shoot this man, I mean the enemy. I put my finger on the trigger, yet my body refused to hurt the man. I put my gun in the air and shot.

The man huddled and closed into a ball. Then I walked away, leaving my gun behind. I walked through the burning village, our “trophy” for the victory. But it didn’t feel like a victory. Thousands upon thousands of human bodies were being pilled up.

Another atrocity that the “heroes” committed.