Fanatics

The whole situation was just fucking ridiculous. This asshole looked like a woman. A crazy-ass scary bitch, but still a woman. I could never understand that cross-dressing shit. Especially if you were a guy, those girly clothes made it hard to move freely. And you need to move fast in a firefight even when you have the most dangerous weapon in your hands. There is no such thing as invincible.

Still, that disgusting motherfucker was clever. He positioned himself so we couldn’t get to his back, and with that fucked up magic sword he was lethal, one person would never be able to reach him alone. And even if we had attacked in a large group most of us wouldn’t have lived to see the sun rise again. Not that I was interested in that girly shit, and even if I survived, I would rather sleep than watch a ball of fire move around in the sky that early in the morning.

We had to do something. This flashy bastard was going to cost us lives. I was counting on the guys outside. They were the real brain of this operation. I was just doing what I was told and moving my people to get the best results.

Finally, I got word from the strategos. I relayed our next move. It was risky, but I had to make do. My people all started firing at the same time and I started to run towards him. He moved the sword in a tight circle in front of him, making a shield. Fucking magical items. No wonder the government wanted all of them destroyed. In the hand of a properly trained user it could take out countless people. And he was more than properly trained.

Somehow I was able to get to a point where I could get a shot in. The bullet hit him in his side. He dropped the sword and the firing stopped at once. We needed him alive. He looked at me with a manic glint in his eyes. “I will never tell you anything that will help you hurt her.”

Even his voice was girly. It hurt my ears and left a bad taste in my mouth. “We will see,” I said with a savage smile that he mirrored back at me as he pulled a little knife from somewhere between those colorful folds of clothes. Fucking girly clothes. I knew nothing good ever came from those. I couldn’t stop him, the distance was too much.

“I love you, my queen!” he shouted and sliced through his own throat. Rotten fanatics. Not enough that I had no more leads, now we had to clean up his blood, too. I should have hired a cleaning lady for my crew.