Story [Issue 33] The Story Behind the Colors: Sakura

[Kevred 1,586]

 

 

The Hunter sped through the forest, crushing plant and animal alike. Not even for a second did it slow down, ramming down trees with barely a hesitation. It was far, too far. Anne Beaumont pushed her tank to the limit as she drove into the depths of the Ardennes. Fortunately for her she encountered no living soul, besides the boars and birds she pulverized under her tracks.

 

She left Greater Paris for five hours now, but there was still twenty kilometers until she arrived at destination. And time was running out.

---

 

The front door was unlocked. The wood creaked and groaned, the sound amplified by the surrounding silence. Particles of dust arose around her footsteps. The light penetrated from a grim window, a lone shaft of fairy dust. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She came home with the intention of bringing her family to a safer location, but it seems they have already left.

 

Anne heard footsteps upstairs. The 21-years old tensed, pulling her rusty but loyal rifle out of her jacket. The stairs creaked too loudly for her taste. A gust of wind blew through the multiple cracks in the decaying wood walls, whispering words of a foreign language. Pointing the long steel barrel in front of her, she set down a foot on the second floor's mossy carpet. The door of her bedroom was slightly open, and she could distinguish shadows moving among the darkness. 

 

Too late to turn back now.

 

She kicked the door open. Inside was her sister. And them.

 

“Put your gun down, Mademoiselle Beaumont. Or your sister dies,” the voice echoed back and forth everyone around the house, or so she felt. Anne whipped around as a cloaked figure laid the tip of a pistol on the forehead of a crouching woman.

 

“Did you hear me? Put the gun down,” he repeated, his lips barely moving as he spoke. 

 

Realizing the current balance of power, Anne reluctantly deposed her gun at her feet. She passed her vision around the room, and realized that all the portraits that used to hang on the walls, anything that was of personal property, had been smashed or burned. The teddy bear that she had from when she was four was ripped to shreds. Her dog’s collar was lying in the middle of the private fireplace. Fury arose inside of her.

 

“What do you want?” She asked between gritted teeth.

 

“Speak only when spoken to, little girl. My finger tends to bend on its own, what with the cold and all. And I'm sure none of us wants an…unfortunate accident to happen, do we?” The man smiled coldly.

 

Anne stared at the man, conveying her anger through nothing but her eyes. He didn't notice, and if he did, he pretended not to.

 

“Greater and Lower Paris have both been recaptured by the Eurasians. The Tal Ourouk are quite…disappointed,” he murmured, suggesting multiple meanings behind the word, “The Eurasians have put a kill-on-sight order on your cousin, Sergeant Tyler Lox. His cover was blown. He is of little to no use for us now.” 

 

Anne opened his mouth, but the man gave her no time to reply.

 

“The Eurasian general responsible for the recapture of Paris is of great threat to us. He doesn't know it, but by pursuing Lox, he is uncovering our secret web of agents. I'm giving you one last chance to save your family. Spies have reported that the general is attending a gala in Old Berlin. Kill him, and your family will be safe. As for now, I shall content myself with your sister. May this serve as a warning, dear Beaumont.”

 

He clicked the trigger.

---

 

The tears dripped down her frozen cheeks, a rain of sorrow. The drops resonated as they hit the frozen ground and vanished. Crouching, she gently laid down a final flower on her sister’s hasty grave. Sakura, they called it. She couldn't have cared less, for a part of her had just died. She picked up the shovel, and with one last, quick movement, sealed up a fragment of her heart.

 

The hatch made no resistance as Anne climbed into her Hunter, clutching the only souvenir she managed to save from the fires that burned down her house. A silver plate lined with gold, but the true value for Anne was the picture engraved in the middle. Her father, a famous musician. Her mother, a firefighter in Grand Tokyo. Her sister. The latter’s fiancé, a Commandant in France for whom her brother Tyler fought.

 

A big family. A destroyed family.

 

It started raining.

---

 

She rolled among the ruins, avoiding the skeletal remains of the inhabitants of Old Berlin. The city was devastated during the Fourth World War, and was preserved as an international monument to the millions of dead. Everything was left untouched, except for one, glinting marble building. The Castle of Sakura, named for the countless cherry trees planted around it, an oasis of life in the middle of ashy remnants. 

 

The castle glowed faintly red in the distance. Its towers disapprovingly overlooked the Hunter as it came to a stop right behind a thin tree. High heels clacked on the polished marble slabs leading up to the entrance.

 

She put on her most sparkling smile, a tour de force considering the state of her heart.

 

“Hello there, I'm here for the gala.”

 

“ID please.”

 

“Julie Gauthier,” she lied.

 

“There is no Julie Gauthier in our list, ma’am.”

 

“I know.” She pulled out a handgun, the shots suppressed by the silencer. She tried to ignore the despair in the eyes of the two men as they keeled over. In less than a millisecond, images of the cemetery back “home” flashed through her mind. But this was not normal life anymore. She knew that well. This was the devious nooks and crannies of war, and stupid is the person who tries to oppose it. Hopeless is the person who tries to escape it. 

 

The sisterless girl pushed aside all the ethics and morals she ever stood for, and denuded the guard of his uniform. The massive oak doors opened with a swipe of a card.

 

A servant had the misfortune of coming out of an adjacent corridor at the exact moment Anne landed her newly worn boots on the red carpet. The sharp sound pierced the otherwise silent atmosphere. Anne knelt down, a task proven difficult by the rough military-issue pants. She immediately clenched a hand over the young servant's mouth.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you. Promise me you won’t scream?”

 

The girl, terrified, nodded. Anne unreleased her hand.

 

“Tell me, where is General Jonathan Lox?”

 

“In…in the Banquet Room. Please, let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about you.”

 

Warily, the young soon-to-be assassin knocked out the girl with the butt of her gun. Convincing herself this was all for the better good, but knowing at the same time she was feeding herself lies, she continued down the hallway. Minutes flew by  and, without knowing how, she found herself in front of a prison registry pinned onto the walls. Her eye caught on a phrase.

 

Frédéric Beaumont and Anyoko Kazumi, cell 210, 200 years of prison for treason to the Crown

 

Anne was dumbfounded. Her parents, accused of treason? The gears slowly but surely clicked into place. The Tal framed them. But they had promised. She realized this was just like the films she enjoyed watching on Friday nights. Trust no one. Not even yourself.

 

Without hesitation, she immediately changed direction and started towards the prison section. It is said a child cares for nothing more than for her parents. She was to prove it true.

 

By following the plan provided to her, soon she found herself standing in front of a set of iron doors, with two dead guards lying next to them. Someone came here. The thought flashed through her head as she pushed the doors open, and advanced into complete darkness.

 

Her steps echoed in the dark tunnel as she pointed her pistol, tensing at every curve and turn. Darkness loomed over and was menacing to engulf her when she heard a faint cry in the distance. Forgetting all about her former prudence, she ran as fast as she could towards the provenance of the sound, splashing in the water puddles formed by the leaks in the ceiling.  She opened a door and stared at cell…210. The bars were cut open, and two bodies were lying at the back of the freezing concrete chamber. Her heart beating a thousand miles an hour, Anne knelt down and turned their faces towards her. The furry eyebrows, pronounced features...It was her parents. And they were dead.

 

She examined the surroundings more carefully, and discovered a paper fixed to the concrete wall. 

 

Executed Week 3, Day 6 of Month 412 

 

Now the Tals were responsible for both the death of Amelie and her parents. For the first time in her life, the daughter of Frank considered the possibility of suicide. All her problems would go away; the interminable strain on her mind would fade out. But no. Her brother still needed her. Deep in her thoughts, Anne did not perceive the shadow. An immeasurable force pulled her into the hallway, a scruffy hand muffling the screams. She was forcefully dragged all the way back to the main hallway, before being thrown like a sac of potatoes into a disaffected bathroom. Finally the restraint on her mouth softened, but she prevented herself from screaming, fully conscious of the cold of a barrel on her neck.

 

“Who are you? Speak,” her kidnapper said. It was evident from the tone of his voice that he was a man, maybe in his thirties.

 

“Anne…Anne Beaumont,” she replied in a shaky, hesitant voice. The grip on her shoulder tightened. 

 

“What did you just say?”

 

“Anne Beaumont. My name is Anne-“ The air was forcefully expulsed from her lungs. She was ferociously turned around, and she found herself staring at a dream.

 

A silence slithered between them. Mouths gaping, eyes wide, none of them said a word. It was as if, in the middle of an action movie, you suddenly muted the sound. The man released his hands from Anne’s shoulders, the look of a child caught stealing cookies in his eyes. The air became humid. All of a sudden, Anne threw herself into his lap, clutching him as if he might disappear at any moment. A tear fell onto the marble floor.

 

"Tyler. Brother."

---

 

“We've been fools. I'm doing this to save you, you to save me, us both for our parents. And all this time, we've done their dirty work, not knowing that Mother and Father were dead. I regret it, Anne. I regret betraying my Commandant. My friend. Amelie’s love. He’s dead for nothing now.”

 

Tyler sat on the floor, covering his head with his gruff arms. Anne had an arm around him.

 

“I think our mission is out of the question now. Let’s leave.” Anne stood up just as the door flew in shatters.

 

A wave of heat scorched her cheeks as the bomb exploded, and several wooden splinters lodged themselves into her flesh. Screaming, she fell onto her knees, trying to protect her face.

 

“Anne and Tyler Beaumont, you are arrested for treason to the Crown of Eurasia!” A soldier stepped in, just to be shot in the head. Tyler, with a grim expression, hoisted Anne back up.

 

“This way.” He led them through a labyrinth of hallways, consulting his map as he ran. The sergeant turned a corner, and met a squadron of soldiers. Providing cover fire for both of them, he smashed a window and jumped out.

 

---

 

It was a majestic vision. The glass cracked into shards, an explosion of soul reapers. Out came two humans, angels among demons. Time slowed down as they fell three stories onto the contrastingly pinkish leaves of the cherry trees. 

 

With a grunt, Anne smashed onto the grassy ground, a jabbing pain shooting up her left arm at the same moment. From the corner of her eye, she could see a chalk-white thing emerging from her forearm. Her vision blurred. Difficultly, she arose, and looked around for Tyler. He was lying next to the trunk of a tree, unmoving. Worried, she went up to him and clutched his hand.

 

“Anne…leave me. I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

 

The dying man’s sister gulped down a ball of sadness. She hauled him up with her arms, but soon tumbled under their combined weight.

 

“Leave me…run. Save yourself.” The former sergeant coughed, and blood splattered his mouth.

 

Refusing to admit the truth, Anne started dragging him, desperately looking for her Hunter.

 

“Anne…I guess there’s only one way to convince you.”

 

Anne seized the signification of these words only too late. The cock of a gun was heard, soon followed by the bang, like thunder before lightning. The sound resonated inside Anne’s mind. She whipped around, knowing she would remember this moment for the rest of her life. Tyler’s lifeless eyes stared into the void, one hand still holding the smoking metal killer. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Weeks of sorrow exploded into a guttural sob. She dropped to her knees, holding on to the last parcel of happiness and love she had. She let the tears flow.

 

A team of soldiers circled her, but she ignored them. No resistance was made as they bonded her and threw her into an armoured vehicle.

---

 

Sitting in the car, surrounded by soldiers, she stared out a small window. She saw her Hunter, still lying under the cherry tree, and she watched, mesmerized, as a single Sakura gracefully floated down, gently landing on the tip of the Hunter.

 

She smiled. She was in perfect harmony.

---

 

The guillotine fell.

“And may this serve as a warning to all those who dare resist the power of the Crown!” The crowd cheered, except for one man. His soldier's instincts told him something more was going on. He felt it, without knowing why. He stared at the limp body, his face expressionless.

 

His name was Jonathan Lox.

 

 

 

Edited July 30, 2017 by Hexed

[beaku 2,656]

Good one :D

[liverpoolaum 811]

nice

[jazz20 1,181]

"A big family. A destroyed family" 

 

Ugh my heart sank at that line. This is such a sad story  :(  :(. If you're feeling happy today and plan on staying happy, save it for later. A very emotional piece. If the Devs plan on putting out an English version of a Tanki book, this story should be included.........

 

 

Next story: Prodigi 

[r_Your-Daddy3 605]

Amazing!!!

[deafeat1 271]

Cool :O

Nice one keV.

[r_Firingsniper0 1,215]

sakura is the most amazing paint on history of history of history

[Shadow11_tanker 28]

Wow what a great story, but so sad.

[I.H.U.R.R.I.C.A.N.E 120]

It almost brut tears to my eyes reading it a very sad story indeed.But also very well written i can see the writer put a lot of thought  into the feelings of a person going through a time like that. I would give it a 9 out of 10

[MJROCKS05 428]

What a sad and truly incredible story !!

I just loved it... Pls make the second version ASAP pls !!

[My_Tiger_Psy 4]

This was incredible!  Great work!  :)

[Firenze_PRO 80]

Great story, but a bit sad. 8.8/10 :)

[proffesor_theo 48]

10/10, i nearly cried :(

 

was so beautiful, yet sad :((

[proffesor_theo 48]

Im gonna buy this paint :'(

[Kevred 1,586]

Great story, but a bit sad. 8.8/10 :)

Are you saying that's a bad thing? Snapety-snap.

[Loackie 269]

If the third one goes where I think it's going...

 

-Main character is stuck in a pressuring situation

-Someone close to the main character dies

-main character attempts to deal with grief

-insert side character lol

-some physical object inspires the paint

 

the end

 

I can't deny that the story was well written though.

Edited March 30, 2015 by Loackie

[macgg 10]

Aww...pls next story more positive..I can't take this 

[Kevred 1,586]

If the third one goes where I think it's going...

 

-Main character is stuck in a pressuring situation

-Someone close to the main character dies

-main character attempts to deal with grief

-insert side character lol

-some physical object inspires the paint

 

the end

 

I can't deny that the story was well written though.

Wrong.

Maybe.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

 

If you knew me, you'd know I like to keep my stories...surprising.

[Loackie 269]

Wrong.

Maybe.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

 

If you knew me, you'd know I like to keep my stories...surprising.

Let's see if i remember the storm story...

 

Storm:

-Someone involved in a tank assault or recon force (i forgot)

-It was either an accident or an intended attack, but an explosion kills most of the squad

-Main character grieves over this event and talks in a more somber tone to the survivors to subside the grief

-Pretty sure there was but i forgot

-The tanks, and I THINK the atmosphere inspired the paint.

 

I read F451 a few days after I read the Storm story so I probably forgot a lot of things...

[Kevred 1,586]

Let's see if i remember the storm story...

 

Storm:

-Someone involved in a tank assault or recon force (i forgot)

-It was either an accident or an intended attack, but an explosion kills most of the squad

-Main character grieves over this event and talks in a more somber tone to the survivors to subside the grief

-Pretty sure there was but i forgot

-The tanks, and I THINK the atmosphere inspired the paint.

 

I read F451 a few days after I read the Storm story so I probably forgot a lot of things...

You need to get your memory tweaked pal. Now that I realize you remember almost nothing of the first story, I don't see what you're criticizing about this one.

[toanuparu_GT 7]

I actually cried. u should wright a book.  :D

Edited April 2, 2015 by toanuparu_GT

[WatchOutBehindYou 1]

"A big family. A destroyed family" 

 

Ugh my heart sank at that line. This is such a sad story  :(  :(. If you're feeling happy today and plan on staying happy, save it for later. A very emotional piece. If the Devs plan on putting out an English version of a Tanki book, this story should be included.........

 

 

Next story: Prodigi 

I agree! A story for prodigy would be really cool! B)

[IronCrab 3]

first when i read it i thought it was creepypasta XD

[IronCrab 3]

how if you make a story of mary, it will beat creepypasta

[Panther14Killer 9]

 

 

 

The Hunter sped through the forest, crushing plant and animal alike. Not even for a second did it slow down, ramming down trees with barely a hesitation. It was far, too far. Anne Beaumont pushed her tank to the limit as she drove into the depths of the Ardennes. Fortunately for her she encountered no living soul, besides the boars and birds she pulverized under her tracks.

 

She left Greater Paris for five hours now, but there was still twenty kilometers until she arrived at destination. And time was running out.

---

 

The front door was unlocked. The wood creaked and groaned, the sound amplified by the surrounding silence. Particles of dust arose around her footsteps. The light penetrated from a grim window, a lone shaft of fairy dust. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She came home with the intention of bringing her family to a safer location, but it seems they have already left.

 

Anne heard footsteps upstairs. The 21-years old tensed, pulling her rusty but loyal rifle out of her jacket. The stairs creaked too loudly for her taste. A gust of wind blew through the multiple cracks in the decaying wood walls, whispering words of a foreign language. Pointing the long steel barrel in front of her, she set down a foot on the second floor's mossy carpet. The door of her bedroom was slightly open, and she could distinguish shadows moving among the darkness. 

 

Too late to turn back now.

 

She kicked the door open. Inside was her sister. And them.

 

“Put your gun down, Mademoiselle Beaumont. Or your sister dies,” the voice echoed back and forth everyone around the house, or so she felt. Anne whipped around as a cloaked figure laid the tip of a pistol on the forehead of a crouching woman.

 

“Did you hear me? Put the gun down,” he repeated, his lips barely moving as he spoke. 

 

Realizing the current balance of power, Anne reluctantly deposed her gun at her feet. She passed her vision around the room, and realized that all the portraits that used to hang on the walls, anything that was of personal property, had been smashed or burned. The teddy bear that she had from when she was four was ripped to shreds. Her dog’s collar was lying in the middle of the private fireplace. Fury arose inside of her.

 

“What do you want?” She asked between gritted teeth.

 

“Speak only when spoken to, little girl. My finger tends to bend on its own, what with the cold and all. And I'm sure none of us wants an…unfortunate accident to happen, do we?” The man smiled coldly.

 

Anne stared at the man, conveying her anger through nothing but her eyes. He didn't notice, and if he did, he pretended not to.

 

“Greater and Lower Paris have both been recaptured by the Eurasians. The Tal Ourouk are quite…disappointed,” he murmured, suggesting multiple meanings behind the word, “The Eurasians have put a kill-on-sight order on your cousin, Sergeant Tyler Lox. His cover was blown. He is of little to no use for us now.” 

 

Anne opened his mouth, but the man gave her no time to reply.

 

“The Eurasian general responsible for the recapture of Paris is of great threat to us. He doesn't know it, but by pursuing Lox, he is uncovering our secret web of agents. I'm giving you one last chance to save your family. Spies have reported that the general is attending a gala in Old Berlin. Kill him, and your family will be safe. As for now, I shall content myself with your sister. May this serve as a warning, dear Beaumont.”

 

He clicked the trigger.

---

 

The tears dripped down her frozen cheeks, a rain of sorrow. The drops resonated as they hit the frozen ground and vanished. Crouching, she gently laid down a final flower on her sister’s hasty grave. Sakura, they called it. She couldn't have cared less, for a part of her had just died. She picked up the shovel, and with one last, quick movement, sealed up a fragment of her heart.

 

The hatch made no resistance as Anne climbed into her Hunter, clutching the only souvenir she managed to save from the fires that burned down her house. A silver plate lined with gold, but the true value for Anne was the picture engraved in the middle. Her father, a famous musician. Her mother, a firefighter in Grand Tokyo. Her sister. The latter’s fiancé, a Commandant in France for whom her brother Tyler fought.

 

A big family. A destroyed family.

 

It started raining.

---

 

She rolled among the ruins, avoiding the skeletal remains of the inhabitants of Old Berlin. The city was devastated during the Fourth World War, and was preserved as an international monument to the millions of dead. Everything was left untouched, except for one, glinting marble building. The Castle of Sakura, named for the countless cherry trees planted around it, an oasis of life in the middle of ashy remnants. 

 

The castle glowed faintly red in the distance. Its towers disapprovingly overlooked the Hunter as it came to a stop right behind a thin tree. High heels clacked on the polished marble slabs leading up to the entrance.

 

She put on her most sparkling smile, a tour de force considering the state of her heart.

 

“Hello there, I'm here for the gala.”

 

“ID please.”

 

“Julie Gauthier,” she lied.

 

“There is no Julie Gauthier in our list, ma’am.”

 

“I know.” She pulled out a handgun, the shots suppressed by the silencer. She tried to ignore the despair in the eyes of the two men as they keeled over. In less than a millisecond, images of the cemetery back “home” flashed through her mind. But this was not normal life anymore. She knew that well. This was the devious nooks and crannies of war, and stupid is the person who tries to oppose it. Hopeless is the person who tries to escape it. 

 

The sisterless girl pushed aside all the ethics and morals she ever stood for, and denuded the guard of his uniform. The massive oak doors opened with a swipe of a card.

 

A servant had the misfortune of coming out of an adjacent corridor at the exact moment Anne landed her newly worn boots on the red carpet. The sharp sound pierced the otherwise silent atmosphere. Anne knelt down, a task proven difficult by the rough military-issue pants. She immediately clenched a hand over the young servant's mouth.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you. Promise me you won’t scream?”

 

The girl, terrified, nodded. Anne unreleased her hand.

 

“Tell me, where is General Jonathan Lox?”

 

“In…in the Banquet Room. Please, let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about you.”

 

Warily, the young soon-to-be assassin knocked out the girl with the butt of her gun. Convincing herself this was all for the better good, but knowing at the same time she was feeding herself lies, she continued down the hallway. Minutes flew by  and, without knowing how, she found herself in front of a prison registry pinned onto the walls. Her eye caught on a phrase.

 

Frédéric Beaumont and Anyoko Kazumi, cell 210, 200 years of prison for treason to the Crown

 

Anne was dumbfounded. Her parents, accused of treason? The gears slowly but surely clicked into place. The Tal framed them. But they had promised. She realized this was just like the films she enjoyed watching on Friday nights. Trust no one. Not even yourself.

 

Without hesitation, she immediately changed direction and started towards the prison section. It is said a child cares for nothing more than for her parents. She was to prove it true.

 

By following the plan provided to her, soon she found herself standing in front of a set of iron doors, with two dead guards lying next to them. Someone came here. The thought flashed through her head as she pushed the doors open, and advanced into complete darkness.

 

Her steps echoed in the dark tunnel as she pointed her pistol, tensing at every curve and turn. Darkness loomed over and was menacing to engulf her when she heard a faint cry in the distance. Forgetting all about her former prudence, she ran as fast as she could towards the provenance of the sound, splashing in the water puddles formed by the leaks in the ceiling.  She opened a door and stared at cell…210. The bars were cut open, and two bodies were lying at the back of the freezing concrete chamber. Her heart beating a thousand miles an hour, Anne knelt down and turned their faces towards her. The furry eyebrows, pronounced features...It was her parents. And they were dead.

 

She examined the surroundings more carefully, and discovered a paper fixed to the concrete wall. 

 

Executed Week 3, Day 6 of Month 412 

 

Now the Tals were responsible for both the death of Amelie and her parents. For the first time in her life, the daughter of Frank considered the possibility of suicide. All her problems would go away; the interminable strain on her mind would fade out. But no. Her brother still needed her. Deep in her thoughts, Anne did not perceive the shadow. An immeasurable force pulled her into the hallway, a scruffy hand muffling the screams. She was forcefully dragged all the way back to the main hallway, before being thrown like a sac of potatoes into a disaffected bathroom. Finally the restraint on her mouth softened, but she prevented herself from screaming, fully conscious of the cold of a barrel on her neck.

 

“Who are you? Speak,” her kidnapper said. It was evident from the tone of his voice that he was a man, maybe in his thirties.

 

“Anne…Anne Beaumont,” she replied in a shaky, hesitant voice. The grip on her shoulder tightened. 

 

“What did you just say?”

 

“Anne Beaumont. My name is Anne-“ The air was forcefully expulsed from her lungs. She was ferociously turned around, and she found herself staring at a dream.

 

A silence slithered between them. Mouths gaping, eyes wide, none of them said a word. It was as if, in the middle of an action movie, you suddenly muted the sound. The man released his hands from Anne’s shoulders, the look of a child caught stealing cookies in his eyes. The air became humid. All of a sudden, Anne threw herself into his lap, clutching him as if he might disappear at any moment. A tear fell onto the marble floor.

 

"Tyler. Brother."

---

 

“We've been fools. I'm doing this to save you, you to save me, us both for our parents. And all this time, we've done their dirty work, not knowing that Mother and Father were dead. I regret it, Anne. I regret betraying my Commandant. My friend. Amelie’s love. He’s dead for nothing now.”

 

Tyler sat on the floor, covering his head with his gruff arms. Anne had an arm around him.

 

“I think our mission is out of the question now. Let’s leave.” Anne stood up just as the door flew in shatters.

 

A wave of heat scorched her cheeks as the bomb exploded, and several wooden splinters lodged themselves into her flesh. Screaming, she fell onto her knees, trying to protect her face.

 

“Anne and Tyler Beaumont, you are arrested for treason to the Crown of Eurasia!” A soldier stepped in, just to be shot in the head. Tyler, with a grim expression, hoisted Anne back up.

 

“This way.” He led them through a labyrinth of hallways, consulting his map as he ran. The sergeant turned a corner, and met a squadron of soldiers. Providing cover fire for both of them, he smashed a window and jumped out.

 

---

 

It was a majestic vision. The glass cracked into shards, an explosion of soul reapers. Out came two humans, angels among demons. Time slowed down as they fell three stories onto the contrastingly pinkish leaves of the cherry trees. 

 

With a grunt, Anne smashed onto the grassy ground, a jabbing pain shooting up her left arm at the same moment. From the corner of her eye, she could see a chalk-white thing emerging from her forearm. Her vision blurred. Difficultly, she arose, and looked around for Tyler. He was lying next to the trunk of a tree, unmoving. Worried, she went up to him and clutched his hand.

 

“Anne…leave me. I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

 

The dying man’s sister gulped down a ball of sadness. She hauled him up with her arms, but soon tumbled under their combined weight.

 

“Leave me…run. Save yourself.” The former sergeant coughed, and blood splattered his mouth.

 

Refusing to admit the truth, Anne started dragging him, desperately looking for her Hunter.

 

“Anne…I guess there’s only one way to convince you.”

 

Anne seized the signification of these words only too late. The cock of a gun was heard, soon followed by the bang, like thunder before lightning. The sound resonated inside Anne’s mind. She whipped around, knowing she would remember this moment for the rest of her life. Tyler’s lifeless eyes stared into the void, one hand still holding the smoking metal killer. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Weeks of sorrow exploded into a guttural sob. She dropped to her knees, holding on to the last parcel of happiness and love she had. She let the tears flow.

 

                                                                         Alternative Ending

---

She heard the soldiers coming up behind her, she knew what that meant for her: certain death. But she couldn't bring herself to run, or fight anymore. She had witnessed too much grief. It seemed to haunt her, follow her, everywhere. There was no escape for it, no way of escaping it; only death. The soldiers stood encircling her, and she glanced back towards her Hunter, covered in the gentle blossoms, more gliding down gracefully on her tank. Those few blooms represented all that she had never had, and all that she had lost. Then, like a spark from the glowing embers of a dying fire, it came to her. She could never give it to them, and she never would. Especially, not now encircled by enemy soldiers - only the last light of the sun looking upon her, registering her defience. The had taken everything from her,  everyone from here. She remembered her sister, her parents' cell with the paper fixed to the wall. No, she would not let them take her, not now. She walked over to her Hunter. The soldiers shifted uneasily, but didn't fire their raised weapons. they wanted her alive. She reached under the Hunter and pressed a switch. The soldiers flinched, but she, here with the blossoms gently falling was at peace. This peace lasted 2 seconds, then the Hunter exploded. They would never have her. She was finally, free.

 

Panther14Killer