fusillade
/ˈfyu səˌleɪd, -ˌlɑd, -zə-/
1. a simultaneous or continuous discharge of firearms.
2. a general discharge or outpouring of anything:
a fusillade of questions.
3. to attack or shoot by a fusillade.
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“Sir, are you sure you want this many troops for this? I mean, there’s only two of them.” The
Captain asked.
He
gazed out through the powerful military binoculars at the target. They were small, and did not seem at all
threatening.
“Absolutely
positive.” The General replied, looking at the same thing through his
binoculars. “Trust me, we need to be
extremely careful with those two.”
“But,
sir, they look so…harmless. I mean, look
at them.”
“Captain,
do you know what those two did?”
“No,
sir.”
“Those
two broke out of a secure facility. A
facility specifically designed to contain the worst our army has to offer. And when I say broke out, I mean it in the
most literal sense. That facility has
doors that can stand up to missiles without buckling, and those two plowed
through them without slowing down. So
yes, Captain, I am sure we need this many troops. In fact, if anything, we don’t have enough.”
“Y-you
have to be kidding me, sir. There’s no
way those two can do something like that.”
“Does
like look like the face of someone joking, boy?” The General asked his subordinate. The older man’s face was covered with hard
lines developed by years in the service.
And there was not a bit of humor in his cold eyes.
“N-no,
sir.” The Captain said quickly. “It’s
just that…well…”
The
General held up his hand, stopping the thought from being spoken. “I know.
I know what they look like. But
make no mistake, they might look innocent and playful enough, but they’re
monsters. They have no remorse, no
limits, no restraint. Right now, those
two are the most dangerous things in the world, and there’s nothing controlling
them. We are the only thing keeping them
from destroying the world.”
The
Captain shivered. He looked at the
targets again. They were running around
the otherwise empty field. Then they
spotted the gathered army. One of them
pointed in out and said something to the other.
They laughed and started running towards the gathered war machines and troops. They ran haphazardly, and stopped often to
look at something that caught their eye.
The
General raised his hand, signaling the troops to ready themselves. The infantry trained heavy assault rifles as
the approaching figures. Many of them
shouldered rocket launchers and RPGS instead of guns, all trained on the two approaching
targets. Tanks crews loaded the heavy
shells and the turrets swiveled into position.
None of them knew they were aiming at the two small forms approaching
them, but orders were orders.
The
General shouted and dropped his fist.
The air rang out with the sound of gun and cannon fire. The continuous stream of bullets and shells
sped through the air, looking to hit the targets almost immediately after being
fired. The air around them filled with
smoke and dust. That was soon replaced
by bouts of fire as rockets struck home.
From
the flames emerged two small bodies, unharmed by the assault. The General ordered the troops to keep
firing. To shoot as long and as often as
they could. Despite the sheer number of
guns unloading a countless number of high-caliber bullets into the targets,
they kept approaching. Tank shells
struck the small bodies without any signs of damage. Rockets exploded almost continuously to no
effect. The endless assault did nothing
to deter the approaching forms.
After
several minutes of continuous attack, the two figures reached the first line of
the army. What ensued was not a
battle. It was a massacre. Men were flung around like toys. Tanks were ripped apart with the ease of
paper. Heavy equipment was destroyed and
bodies flew into the air. Soldiers ran
for their lives, only to be mowed down be a piece of a tank that had been
thrown at them, or else the body of another soldier.
The
Captain looked on in horror at the devastation that was happening. He was sorry he had ever doubted the General’s
words. It was far too late to regret it
though. Far too late for anything. The two destroyers ran through the army,
sewing carnage as they passed. It was
not long before they got to the Captain.
He pulled out his sidearm and fired, knowing it was useless. He had to do something though. Something to slow down his own demise even
for a second.
As his
feet left the ground, the Captain looked at the face of his killer. The face which he had thought was so innocent
and harmless that it could not have done any damage. The smiling, laughing face of a six-year old
child.
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The day little kids get super powers is the day the world as we know it ends. Think about it. A normal six-year old has no concept of restraint, so they go all out in everything they do. No imagine that, plus the ability to lift cars. Yeah, it's not pretty. It will be a grim day in the lives of candy and toy shop owners everywhere should that ever come to pass. A grim day indeed.
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