Post by account_disabled on Dec 26, 2023 5:31:52 GMT
The trial was the usual farce set up in such situations. The sentence had already been written and the machine gun that the jailer kept pointed at that man left no doubt about his nature. The Dog ordered the prisoner to explain the reasons for his disobedience and the man spoke, with a calm that I envied him. The leader of the Gang remained silent and when the man finished speaking the jailer fired. I had expected an order or at least a nod of the head, but evidently the start of that barbaric execution had been decided to take place in that way.
The man was thrown back and when he fell to the ground he was already dead. I felt my legs shaking. The jailer shouted at the second prisoner to come forward and the same scene was repeated. The man speaking, the Dog listening and then the sharp sound of the machine gun and the thud of the lifeless body falling. I wondered, at that moment, who would Special Data film my death. Maybe the Dog himself. Finally the third prisoner arrived and explained why he had refused to kill defenseless people. As he spoke, my head filled with thoughts and decisions. In a few minutes it would be my turn. Then I remembered the man's words when we were locked in the room the previous night. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes at trial .
And then I was certain that no machine gun would end my life. I wouldn't have gotten away with it that quickly. The machine gun in action woke me up. When the prisoner fell and, after a few jolts, died, the jailer placed the machine gun against the wall to light a cigarette. I casually fiddled with the camera, as if it had a problem, and crouched down to work better. Then I made my decision. In recent days I have asked myself several times what drove me to act and I believe there is only one answer. Even if inside me I feel more and more heavily the transformation caused by that damned bite, even if I don't know how this whole story will end, even if most likely I will no longer have a future nor will the human race, as long as man is alive fights to survive, even when all seems lost.
The man was thrown back and when he fell to the ground he was already dead. I felt my legs shaking. The jailer shouted at the second prisoner to come forward and the same scene was repeated. The man speaking, the Dog listening and then the sharp sound of the machine gun and the thud of the lifeless body falling. I wondered, at that moment, who would Special Data film my death. Maybe the Dog himself. Finally the third prisoner arrived and explained why he had refused to kill defenseless people. As he spoke, my head filled with thoughts and decisions. In a few minutes it would be my turn. Then I remembered the man's words when we were locked in the room the previous night. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes at trial .
And then I was certain that no machine gun would end my life. I wouldn't have gotten away with it that quickly. The machine gun in action woke me up. When the prisoner fell and, after a few jolts, died, the jailer placed the machine gun against the wall to light a cigarette. I casually fiddled with the camera, as if it had a problem, and crouched down to work better. Then I made my decision. In recent days I have asked myself several times what drove me to act and I believe there is only one answer. Even if inside me I feel more and more heavily the transformation caused by that damned bite, even if I don't know how this whole story will end, even if most likely I will no longer have a future nor will the human race, as long as man is alive fights to survive, even when all seems lost.