All around me was the sight of bloodshed, and I had to stop myself from throwing up at the very sight of it. The once great room I had admired with great respect now showcased a floor littered with bodies, some from the crew I had seen earlier and others from the supposed enemy. Me and the man who insisted on calling me young master were running straight into a battlefield, and I nearly turned on my heel, but he stopped me.
"Where are ya going young master?"
"I can't do this! I've never even hurt a fly, how could you expect me to ever kill a person?!"
"Look lad," he had gone back to his informal talk from earlier, "Like I said, it's kill or be killed in this world, ya haven't got a choice."
"I can run," I said cowardly.
"And where would ya go?"
I didn't respond.
"That's what I thought, now keep moving. Our enemy is wearing green, so keep a look out and make sure ya don't kill any of ours."
"Wait! Is that the only instruction you're going to give me?"
He sighed and was about answer before a laser beam came out of nowhere and cut the man's cheek, barely missing his head. He instantly dropped to the floor and did a forward somersault into a position on his knees, with one leg behind him and the other in front. He then pulled out his gun, and pointing it directly in front of him, took aim. When he pulled the trigger, a laser came out and stroke true. The man who had originally shot at him now laid dead on the ground.
"Basically," he said, trying to catch his breath, "Don't get killed."
With that, he ran off towards the fighting and I was left to my own devises. Never a good idea really. I stood in the same spot, frozen. I could go and hide, but what use would that do? I could be found by one of the enemies, and killed with nowhere to escape from. But did I really want to fight a battle that wasn't mine? Did I really want to fight at all? To kill? I thought about what that man had said, it was either kill or be killed. But where I came from, killing was not such a common practice. I would be abandoning all my moral principles if I were to agree to fight, but I would die if I did not do so.
My mind then wandered to the life I had back on Earth. The boring, mundane life of wake up, go to school, eat, and fall asleep, over and over and over again. Did I really want to go back to that? I had no friends, and barely any family to speak of. There was nothing stopping me from remaining here besides the fact I might have to kill. Was I willing to go that far, just for adventure? It wasn't as if I would be killing in cold blood, I would have a valid reason. Self-defense. But was that really enough?
Everything I had ever known was being brought to question. But I think what finally made me decide was the man in green running towards me with a sword. I snapped out of my little daydream and pointed my gun.
I had no idea how to handle one, which is why I was extremely surprised to discover my shot had knocked the sword out of the man's hand. As I slowly opened my eyes, which I had closed as I pulled the trigger, I rejoiced a little inside. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could even win.
But I was getting to cocky, because just then the now very angry man pulled a dagger from his waist and rushed towards me. I didn't have time to fire another shot, because he was already on top of me. This was it, this was where I died.
My mind wandered back to the events of the past couple hours, and to my childhood, and to my while life before this moment. I had had a normal life. Grew up in the country until I was eight, then moved to the city. Made new friends in elementary, lost them all going into middle school. From then on I was known as the weird kid, I got into drawing and music. My dream was to become a well known artist, though I was never exactly sure in what area. I had just graduated high school, and was ready for college when this happened to me. It hadn't been the best life, but things could have been worse I suppose.
Just as I was about to accept my fate, something inside me clicked. Was the life I had really good enough? Was I going to give up here and say I tried my best? Could I say I had lived with no regrets?
Like lightning, a sudden adrenaline rushed through me. My vision became clear and focused on the man about to stab me with a dagger. My body moved on it's own, as I raised my hand to grab the man's wrist. When I did, I turned it as fast and hard as I could, twisting the weapon out of his hand and making him call out in pain. I then used my other hand to reach up and grab the falling knife, then swiftly and without hesitation brought it to the man's throat. I cut a slash straight down the center, killing the man instanstly.
He dropped to the ground, and I dropped the dagger. I was breathing heavily. My mind was racing and swirling, and I was nauseous. Everything was blurry. I looked down at my hands to find them shaking, with fear or adrenaline, I could not tell.
I had just killed a man.