Locate target. Shoot. Run. Hide. Repeat.

In this game of war no one is safe. One wrong move and you’re done for.

Everyone is my enemy. It’s every man for himself. I'm on my own. All my teammates are either dead or lying low – waiting for a chance for me to fall. I'm running, avoiding the bullets, slashing at throats as I go. I've located my target and now I slowly itch towards it.

The explosion of a gunshot to my left makes me commando roll to the opposite direction where I take out your black CZ 75 SP-01 and shoot. It hits the enemy in the forehead. A sickening crack resonated as the bullet passed right through. More enemies are coming, rushing from my right, left and in front. Like the prey trapped in a corner by its predator I knew I was trapped. I've got no choice but to fall back; I've chosen the wrong path.

This time I'm hiding among the shrubs against the rocky terrier. I'm sweating with exhaustion; sticky from enemies’ blood; mentally tired from the war. I'm near my target. I take out your Artic Wolf sniper; it’s silverly white coating gleaming in the blazing sun. I aim. Fire.

My target fell. It was game over. I fall down with relief, wiping the sweat from my forehead. The sun overhead blazed with intensity but something felt odd. I didn't receive the sense of satisfaction I thought I would get: only the feeling that something has gone horribly wrong.

I got up and crawled to the dead body only to have horror flood me like a tsunami. Blood oozed out from the gun wound. Gritting my teeth I make a run for it. I've shot the wrong target. I have to repeat my mission from the very start.

Go back, back to the beginning. Ignore the burning in my lungs, the dryness of my throat. I have to push through my boundaries and past my limit before I fail. I have to find out where I've gone wrong. That's where I've gone wrong. Hurry. Locate it.

That was where my target was, within my mistake. I'm  running out of time: I have to hurry. I'm running straight ahead. I take notice of the guards standing around my true target and I growled underneath my breath. How could have I been so stupid? I took out a flash grenade and threw it overhead, where it landed right in the middle of the enemy’s circle. Taking my chance I ran with my 6” S35VN blade open, weaving in and out between my target’s guards. I snuck up from behind and interlocked my target’s head. Without any warning or heed I sliced through their neck, blood sprayed onto my camo clothes. The once dark green and brown overall slowly stained red.

I've won. I was jumping up and down. It was over.

“Sit back down, Bella. This is a maths exam for goodness sake, not some war.” It isn't to you, but it is for us students.

Story created on: -- August 2014
Story completed on: -- September 2014
Story posted on: 17 September 2014
Word Count: 450+ words?