As she stood there with a gun to her head, a tear formed behind her eyes and bile rose through her gut.
‘Dearie, you have to kill them to survive.’ The voice was malicious, cruel, menacing but nevertheless soft. Her hand ached under the weight of the rifle she held as children stood poised in front of her.
‘They aren’t real. This is just a dream. It is just a hallucination. Isn’t it?’ she thought. But they were children! They were someone’s little angels! And what if all of this was real?
Somewhere at the back of her mind a grave voice said, ‘there is no certainity in life apart from death.’ Another exclaimed, ‘What does it matter anyways? You are the bravest when you are the most selfless.’
Those two voices echoed through her mind and travelled through her blood. She shivered as she dropped the rifle from her hands and a loud bang reverberated throughout the dungeon. There was blood but there was no fear.