[CW - Short Story] Untitled

[Chevaleresse]

(shh i just suck at titling things okay)

The sun beat down harshly on the featureless waste. The two men's steps kicked up tiny puffs of dust as they walked, hanging in the dead air for a moment before settling back down to the earth. At a glance, the pair seemed indistinguishable – drab brown cloaks obscured most of what sat below their broad hats, the clothing a desperate attempt to fend off the onslaught of the uncaring orb burning in the sky above. Each man walked slowly toward the other, each man clutched a gun in his right hand, each man was resigned to the fact that one of them would not leave this desolate nowhere.

The man on the right spoke first. “You know why I'm here. What you did to those people is unforgivable.” His voice was somewhat deep, his tone firm, echoing slightly through the wastes.

“Unforgivable? Unforgivable? You know damn well why I did what I did.” The second man's voice was higher, and less steady, faintly quavering as he shouted his answer back. The acrid sting of body odor was present on him, underneath the smell of dirt and dust that smothered everything else in this place.

“Everyone knows. That's not an excuse. The fact of the matter is that you did it, and now you're going to pay the price, one way or another. Justice will be served.” There was a trace of. . . something, in his voice, as if he was trying to convince himself of what he said.

“Justice? There's no justice in this world, and you of all people should know that. If there was justice, the bastards responsible for this would be dying, not good, honest people. If there was justice, there would be enough food for everyone.”

“Food or not, you still killed people. Innocent people, people who had never done you nor anyone else wrong, and all so you and your family could be comfortable. You think you're better than them? You deserved what they had?” His voice was rising, whatever strange quality that was in it before dying out as the volume of his speech increased. The man's grip on his pistol tightened, skin dyed and dusted with dirt showing white underneath its coating.

“What the hell was I supposed to do? There was enough water for one family to survive. One! You sit there and lecture me about how horrible and selfish I am, but did you have to watch your sons starving to death? Your daughter almost die because she hasn't had anything to drink in three days? You telling me that the right thing to do was to watch my children suffer and die while I sat on my hands and waited for someone who doesn't give a rat's ass about anyone here to send us help?” His voice rose to match and more, each acting as if louder words were somehow truer. It seemed like he would have shaken a fist, but instead both men stood deathly still despite their shouting.

“You killed dozens of people! They had children, too, but that didn't slow you down. They were exactly the same as you, same life, same problems, but none of them decided to murder everyone around them!”

“I did what I had to do! I was watching my entire family die! If I hadn't done it, EVERYONE would be dead! Everyone! You're gonna tell me that what I did was wrong, saving one family instead of letting them all die was wrong?”

“Yes! You killed entire families, ended lineages for your own personal benefit! Don't pretend like you can hide all of what you did. I saw it all. Men, women, it didn't matter to you. I saw a little girl the same age as yours with a bullet in her back. How do you think yours feels, knowing that her daddy murdered her friends in cold blood? That's not the actions of a human being, that's what happens when you give a rabid dog the ability to shoot a gun. And now I'm going to put you down, and it's still better than what you deserve.” His grip tightened even further on the firearm at his side, the leather-wrapped grip creaking in his fist, but he remained motionless otherwise.

“How can you be so stupid? Growing up, you were always the smart kid, but now, what? You can't understand simple math? There was a week's worth of food and water for everyone in town, and nothing else for miles. Supplies were supposed to arrive in a month. All they would have found when they got here was corpses. You know what?” His white-knuckled grip on his own pistol loosened, and it fell to the ground with a faint thump and a puff of dust. He kicked it savagely in the direction of the other man. “Shoot me. I don't care. If I'm evil, if what I did was wrong, if you really think that I enjoyed doing it and that saving my family is a crime, shoot me.”

[Damage]

Damn, if a western styled movie started off like this I'd move to the front of the theatre.

[Code: PIRULUK]

Not bad, not bad.

Some of the dialogue is a bit questionable, though. For example, I don't think many people would use a word as archaic as "lineages" in a tense shouting match like this.

[Chevaleresse]

Not bad, not bad.

Some of the dialogue is a bit questionable, though. For example, I don't think many people would use a word as archaic as "lineages" in a tense shouting match like this.

Yeah, that's something I've had a hard time with as I look over with for revising. I know word choice is awkward in a few places but I can't quite figure out what to change the awkward stuff to.