@Mojack group
I wrote these last year of January, so my writing style has greatly changed. I’ll probably not make major changes until I write a finalized version of my story.
Snippet one
——
Ten months, two weeks.
He's been out here for that long.
It's October. Christmas is in two months.
"War..be over..Christmas.." He heard some of the patrols chat as they walked past his post. Speaking of chat, he wished for chat. He could've have a partner, but his partner was killed by a sickness.
It wasn't no normal sickness, not a flu, not your typical cold. No. It was a completely new strain.
Called 'Vitron-68A.' The sniper didn't know the science behind it. No one did. All he knew that Vitron came with them. The sky invaders.
There's another whoosh. Planes are rushing by. More planes, sending dead leaves everywhere. The leaves dance around him. He reaches out and grasps a leaf just before it falls from his reach. He pulls it into the room and looks at the leaf, then sets it beside him.
The planes have stopped. They're gone. To where, he doesn't know. Perhaps he won't ever know. It's likely.
A few hours have passed since his thoughts to himself. He hears a group of footsteps and immediately tenses up, lowering himself with the old, dusty brown wood floor. He leans forwards to his scope, praying to himself that he wouldn't see them. But he sees nothing. Paranoia? It wasn't ruled off. Some soldiers say when they're near you get paranoid.
He jumps in surprise when he hears his name.
"Jai!"
Not his real name. A code name.
In reality, the sniper didn't know anything of his family history. He called himself nameless - a thief as a child, struggling to survive each season. He developed fantastic patience through the years. Then the war came, and there was a shortage.
"You need to fight," said the men. But he doesn't want to. He wants home. Safety. But no where is safe here.
"Y'er shift is over. I'm here to take over for now."
The sniper stays silent, unmoving. He stiffens as he feels a hand on his shoulder.
"C'mon." The hand is removed, and the sniper stared into blank space. He lowers his scope and removes his gun, getting upwards before pausing. The leaf.
He wondered, should he leave it behind?
No. He won't.
He won't leave that leaf behind, like he did to his partner. But it was forced. This time it ain't forced. He kneeled down and picked the leaf from the ground, shuffling out to the balcony where the stairs were.
I hope the war's over before Christmas.
——
Snippet two
As the sniper approaches the ship, he slows in pace, despite the excitement in his chest, he could see clearly that the 'wing' of the ship was where a co-pilot, or perhaps the main pilot, would sit. Part of the wing was flipped open, and upon further inspection, he discovered that the door was opened by a bit..where where the controls even at? All he could see were some meters written in odd symbols - fuel and speed? - and the wheel, but that was all. No startup, nothing at all.
The wing, surprisingly, was no longer on fire. He reached up and pulled himself into the pit, dropping into it.
For one of their crafts, the interior was not much different compared to the interior of one of his aircraft. Minus the lack of buttons. There was one, however, and a lever beside it.
He tapped the small switch and with little effort, it flicked down. He backed up as there was a humming noise, and the button, which he realized was a light, flicked to a blue colour, instead of the dull dark green.
A green screen showed up beside the wheel, which he nervously ducked away from. It was like a 3D projection, rather, with a fair green lined background and light green buttons with odd symbols. Taking a risk, he reached forwards, expecting his hand to go through the symbols. Instead, as soon as contact was made, the button he touched lit up.
