For many devastating days and horrendous nights where my blood was spread by those careless hands did I view him, did I view it as nothing more than a target to be shot down, dismembered, eradicated without a seconds delay just to feel the satisfaction in knowing that I in that instant dripping in the cooling warmth of his-of its' blood that I had the upper hand. That I was just that good. And for him, for him I doubt that he could view me in any other lighting. We were like some wicked, sickening experiment gone so deadly right. We as the few and yet counless others were given a version of eternal life to match that inmortal soul that God had given us, the catch being that we had demigod power only in the solitude of a modified land created for us and the wastes we were. They told us how to live there, how to act, and if we wanted to keep the benefits of life, wealth, and shelter we would follow each order as best we could for they whispered that they could find others and never seemed to. We learned to profile others on the spot if they appeared in a different color, even those that matched the supposed safe hue considered ours were labeled as a danger for those quick glance of eyes would be smiling silently over your decaying body.

When we were introduced, him, White, and I, Black went for death, for the throat, for any arteries that would draw the most blood. We were equally matched as we gripped onto life fading farther into the darkness of night, me grabbing my splurting neck snatching dizzy looka at the maroon asshole already on the floor hacking what little was left of his life.

Since then we have found any chance, any small glimpse to lose controll, to fall onto animal instinct and attack, as times I gain that almosy sexual psychotic satisfaction in seeing that limp body dead choking on his own blood now turned to a worthless corpse foolish, idiotic enough to think he could have a chance against me. Nonetheless that would be changed and I would be the fool, I would be the one to fall into the traps of believing I had won, that I had beaten the imbecile, winning the secrets that 'they' wanted, only to have it blow up in my face spreading shards of me everywhere within a mile radius. It was for the time being fun. It was work and was what we were paid for. As long as we followed along and didnt make more of a fuss than we needed to a house was provided for us, food was given at our demand, and clothing, necessities, silly materialistic things given as well with no other worry unless if you were to be killed at any second of any days without warning.

Dying was still painful, a great agonizing pain, thay lasted until you died, the one thing that you prayed for, that was, when your rival got a hold of you wasn't to live but to die, that they had an ill enough heart to kill you fully instead of leaving you there gasping, begging, almost whinning for death, wishing you have a weapon on your person to finish the job they devlishly enough planned not to do. We were crul at time to one another and even cruler than mentioned. That was the way things worked, the way the rirver on this side flowed.

I thought that he was only a bastard. Looking back I still find him no better than a piece of trash, but when July rolled in, when guns flarred in the part of the world that wasn't ours, in that midnight walk with the on and off going rain did 'they' know the limit of what they had created, and did we know our own. For the smallest amount of time I didn't see that fucker through a film of ugly red, it had effected us that awful day and leaves us silent for different reasons.