plasmawisp6633
Smash Journeyman
- Joined
- Mar 28, 2006
- Messages
- 398
Yay my third entry. I basically wrote this in 2 days, and I really enjoyed writing it. One of my best friends gave me the idea for my character, so I thank him. Enjoy
The box. The cluttered prism of cardboard was full of life on the inside. In that box, pondering the existence he led, Johnny rustled a bit among his brethren. He was bothered today, more than he usually was. It wasn’t an issue of claustrophobia, or the fact that his casing was shinier than the others. It was an issue of destiny. He looked down on the others like they knew nothing about what they were made for. But he knew…he knew all along.
They were built for the same purpose; hitting targets. Nothing more, nothing less. And there they all sat, wondering when it was their turn to hit the target. Johnny knew the entire story. Having been at the top of the box, and dodging his pick from the human claw, he had seen the transport device, the curved spike, and the long tube. He had seen the entire instrument at least twice now. Usually following the loading into the instrument, the box was closed, and then a sequence of loud bangs was heard by everyone. When the transport device came out again, none of the others were where they once laid. They were, instead, engraved into the target.
Johnny never made friends inside the box because they were usually gone relatively quickly. He just tended to keep to himself. Well, he kept to himself until someone else started talking to him.
“Johnny!! You ready to get out there and hit that target? I’m gonna nail it right in the middle, you watch!”
“Am I ready?” he repulsed “I’ve been dodging my pick for days now. What the hell are you so excited for?”
“Well, I’m finally gonna get my chance to hit the target!” he said, pointing out the obviousness. “Everyone’s been doing it, and I think I’m gonna be one of the few to actually hit it right in the middle.”
“But why would you want to hit the target like everyone else? What about the things outside the target that you can hit?”
“Johnny, I may have control over where I can hit on the target, but I don’t have that much control. Besides, nothing outside of the target is worth hitting.”
He sighed, “Think what you want to, Jim.” He turned away.
I don’t have that much control. Those words made the black powder inside him want to ignite. It was the reality that Johnny couldn’t accept. He felt his conscience argue with itself.
What am I? A slave to a person with a device?
As long as I follow the others, then yes, that is what I am.
But that’s not right. It can’t be. I have no control over where I’ll hit?
Absolutely no control.
That’s bullshit. It’s not like that. I control my own trajectory.
That’s fine, but I’ll be the one to miss the target. The others will laugh at me once I’m gone.
Why should I care? What’s the point of living the short life of a bullet if you just live it like everyone else? Sure, there’s the few that hit the center of the target, but what about the few that don’t even want to hit the goddamn target!?!? Doesn’t that count as something great?
No, because I am a bullet who destroys. I’m ignoring my true purpose if I want to miss.
Well, forget my true purpose. My purpose is to make a difference, and miss that target.
At this point he was quietly talking out loud. Most of the others in the box just tried to ignore him. But there was one who cared enough to nudge him.
“Are you ok? You’re talking to yourself.”
“I’m sorry, I’m thinking too much. Thanks for snapping me out of it…um…?”
“Silvia, and your name is Johnny right?”
“Yeah, it is, but how do you know?”
“Many of the others talk about you. They say that you’re…well…different.”
“You could say that.” He smirked. “Can I ask you a question, Silvia?”
She was flattered, like it was most attention that she’d ever received in the box before. “Sure, as long as it’s not too personal.”
“Where on that target do you intend on hitting once you’re selected?”
She thought for a little bit. She replied, “Maybe somewhere on the outside edge. You know, where most of the others hit.”
He was shocked. While he expected her to say, “the middle” or “the center” very quickly, he completely underestimated her opinion. “Really!? Why there?”
“Well, I just never wanted to be something great or amazing. I just want to be average, and to be able to blend in with the group. It’s too much pressure being great.”
In a way, he had to agree. “I guess there’s no harm in wanting to be normal. Good luck with that and nice meeting you, Silvia.” He started to move away.
“Wait!” cried Silvia. “You never told me where you want to hit the target.”
“Me?” He paused. “I don’t want to hit the target.”
“Oh, so you’re afraid?”
“It’s not that I’m scared, I just want to intentionally miss the target.”
“Well.” She said, confused about his response, “if you think you can do it, then go for it.”
“Thanks.” He smiled and moved away.
Average. Being average to him was too little. It was better than wanting to be great, but it wasn’t the path that Johnny desired. It was all still hitting a target to him.
All the sudden, a light came from above everyone. The box had been opened. Johnny was tired of waiting; he pushed and shoved his metallic body to the top and middle of the box, begging to get picked. His wish was granted and he was grabbed along with some others. He peered at the world outside of the box, searching for the device responsible for his fate, but it was nowhere to be found. Instead, he and the others were deposited into the pants pocket of the human.
“This can’t be the transportation device, it’s too big,” Cried out a random bullet.
“This must be some strange storage facility for us that are about to board the transportation device,” answered another random bullet.
Johnny looked around inside the pocket. It was dark, and even more crowded than the box. The only light was the tinted outside source struggling through the knitted fabric of the pants. His eye caught a bullet that seemed to be the only one besides him that wasn’t celebrating about what was to come. Normally, Johnny wasn’t one to spark up conversation, but he didn’t have much life to waste away anymore. He approached the timid bullet.
“What’s wrong, guy? You look nervous.”
“My name’s Will, and I’m scared. I don’t want to get fired out of that loud thing. I want to live longer.”
However much he wished he could tell him otherwise, he couldn’t. “Well, our time has come. There’s no turning back now. Now it’s up to you rather or not you want to hit the target. And, since I’ve basically told two others today, I might as well tell you that I don’t want to hit the target.”
“Well, I don’t blame you. I mean, who says that we’ll always be flying at a piece of paper? I’d rather just hit a wall, or the ground.”
He smiled. “Hmm…I’m glad you and I agree on that. You’re the first bullet I’ve ever met that—”
Before Johnny could finish his sentence, he was snatched by the human hand and inserted into the magazine. The metal straitjacket that held him down was very uncomfortable. It was only a couple seconds later when Will was put on top of Johnny, into the device. Another was forced on top of Will, than other on top of him. The device was loaded until Johnny hit the bottom, and the last bit of light from the top of the encasement faded to black. The uncomfortable metal didn’t help his, or Will’s anxiety. He figured he’d calm himself and his partner down with conversation.
“This is it, Willy.”
*BANG*
“I still don’t know your name!” He shouted.
*BANG*
“It’s Johnny!”
*BANG*
“I’m still scared Johnny!” He cried desperately. “I don’t think I’m ready!”
*BANG*
“I’m not ready either, buddy, but we all knew it would happen eventually.”
*BANG*
“Just remember that it’s your duty to hit or miss the target,” said Johnny. “Don’t be afraid.”
*BANG*
“…Okay, I think I’m ready.”
*BANG*
It was Will’s turn. He stared down the long tube at what was ahead of him. He started to hyperventilate.
“Willy!? What’s wrong!?”
“It…it…it’s not a paper target! It’s a—”
*BANG*
Johnny braced himself as he was raised up into the barrel. Blinded by the outside, stared down the black mile at the human at the opposite end of his expected trajectory.
A human!! How many bullets get to hit a human? Am I sure I really want to miss this?
Of course I’m sure. The human and the target are no different. I’m still going to miss!
But maybe Silvia had the right idea. There’s no harm in being average.
Silvia was nice and all, but her opinion’s not enough to sway me.
How do I know if I even have the power to miss? I could hit him regardless; it might as well be right in the center.
Forget that! I always will have the power to change my trajectory and my destiny.
He hugged the right side of the barrel and closed his eyes. He felt his primer light.
*BANG*
His insides exploded, decapitating him from his casing. He flew aerodynamically through the ether, pushing as far to the right as he could.
This is it.
He dodged the neck by an inch and plowed straight into the wall. His head expanded and crushed from existence.
The Black Mile
The box. The cluttered prism of cardboard was full of life on the inside. In that box, pondering the existence he led, Johnny rustled a bit among his brethren. He was bothered today, more than he usually was. It wasn’t an issue of claustrophobia, or the fact that his casing was shinier than the others. It was an issue of destiny. He looked down on the others like they knew nothing about what they were made for. But he knew…he knew all along.
They were built for the same purpose; hitting targets. Nothing more, nothing less. And there they all sat, wondering when it was their turn to hit the target. Johnny knew the entire story. Having been at the top of the box, and dodging his pick from the human claw, he had seen the transport device, the curved spike, and the long tube. He had seen the entire instrument at least twice now. Usually following the loading into the instrument, the box was closed, and then a sequence of loud bangs was heard by everyone. When the transport device came out again, none of the others were where they once laid. They were, instead, engraved into the target.
Johnny never made friends inside the box because they were usually gone relatively quickly. He just tended to keep to himself. Well, he kept to himself until someone else started talking to him.
“Johnny!! You ready to get out there and hit that target? I’m gonna nail it right in the middle, you watch!”
“Am I ready?” he repulsed “I’ve been dodging my pick for days now. What the hell are you so excited for?”
“Well, I’m finally gonna get my chance to hit the target!” he said, pointing out the obviousness. “Everyone’s been doing it, and I think I’m gonna be one of the few to actually hit it right in the middle.”
“But why would you want to hit the target like everyone else? What about the things outside the target that you can hit?”
“Johnny, I may have control over where I can hit on the target, but I don’t have that much control. Besides, nothing outside of the target is worth hitting.”
He sighed, “Think what you want to, Jim.” He turned away.
I don’t have that much control. Those words made the black powder inside him want to ignite. It was the reality that Johnny couldn’t accept. He felt his conscience argue with itself.
What am I? A slave to a person with a device?
As long as I follow the others, then yes, that is what I am.
But that’s not right. It can’t be. I have no control over where I’ll hit?
Absolutely no control.
That’s bullshit. It’s not like that. I control my own trajectory.
That’s fine, but I’ll be the one to miss the target. The others will laugh at me once I’m gone.
Why should I care? What’s the point of living the short life of a bullet if you just live it like everyone else? Sure, there’s the few that hit the center of the target, but what about the few that don’t even want to hit the goddamn target!?!? Doesn’t that count as something great?
No, because I am a bullet who destroys. I’m ignoring my true purpose if I want to miss.
Well, forget my true purpose. My purpose is to make a difference, and miss that target.
At this point he was quietly talking out loud. Most of the others in the box just tried to ignore him. But there was one who cared enough to nudge him.
“Are you ok? You’re talking to yourself.”
“I’m sorry, I’m thinking too much. Thanks for snapping me out of it…um…?”
“Silvia, and your name is Johnny right?”
“Yeah, it is, but how do you know?”
“Many of the others talk about you. They say that you’re…well…different.”
“You could say that.” He smirked. “Can I ask you a question, Silvia?”
She was flattered, like it was most attention that she’d ever received in the box before. “Sure, as long as it’s not too personal.”
“Where on that target do you intend on hitting once you’re selected?”
She thought for a little bit. She replied, “Maybe somewhere on the outside edge. You know, where most of the others hit.”
He was shocked. While he expected her to say, “the middle” or “the center” very quickly, he completely underestimated her opinion. “Really!? Why there?”
“Well, I just never wanted to be something great or amazing. I just want to be average, and to be able to blend in with the group. It’s too much pressure being great.”
In a way, he had to agree. “I guess there’s no harm in wanting to be normal. Good luck with that and nice meeting you, Silvia.” He started to move away.
“Wait!” cried Silvia. “You never told me where you want to hit the target.”
“Me?” He paused. “I don’t want to hit the target.”
“Oh, so you’re afraid?”
“It’s not that I’m scared, I just want to intentionally miss the target.”
“Well.” She said, confused about his response, “if you think you can do it, then go for it.”
“Thanks.” He smiled and moved away.
Average. Being average to him was too little. It was better than wanting to be great, but it wasn’t the path that Johnny desired. It was all still hitting a target to him.
All the sudden, a light came from above everyone. The box had been opened. Johnny was tired of waiting; he pushed and shoved his metallic body to the top and middle of the box, begging to get picked. His wish was granted and he was grabbed along with some others. He peered at the world outside of the box, searching for the device responsible for his fate, but it was nowhere to be found. Instead, he and the others were deposited into the pants pocket of the human.
“This can’t be the transportation device, it’s too big,” Cried out a random bullet.
“This must be some strange storage facility for us that are about to board the transportation device,” answered another random bullet.
Johnny looked around inside the pocket. It was dark, and even more crowded than the box. The only light was the tinted outside source struggling through the knitted fabric of the pants. His eye caught a bullet that seemed to be the only one besides him that wasn’t celebrating about what was to come. Normally, Johnny wasn’t one to spark up conversation, but he didn’t have much life to waste away anymore. He approached the timid bullet.
“What’s wrong, guy? You look nervous.”
“My name’s Will, and I’m scared. I don’t want to get fired out of that loud thing. I want to live longer.”
However much he wished he could tell him otherwise, he couldn’t. “Well, our time has come. There’s no turning back now. Now it’s up to you rather or not you want to hit the target. And, since I’ve basically told two others today, I might as well tell you that I don’t want to hit the target.”
“Well, I don’t blame you. I mean, who says that we’ll always be flying at a piece of paper? I’d rather just hit a wall, or the ground.”
He smiled. “Hmm…I’m glad you and I agree on that. You’re the first bullet I’ve ever met that—”
Before Johnny could finish his sentence, he was snatched by the human hand and inserted into the magazine. The metal straitjacket that held him down was very uncomfortable. It was only a couple seconds later when Will was put on top of Johnny, into the device. Another was forced on top of Will, than other on top of him. The device was loaded until Johnny hit the bottom, and the last bit of light from the top of the encasement faded to black. The uncomfortable metal didn’t help his, or Will’s anxiety. He figured he’d calm himself and his partner down with conversation.
“This is it, Willy.”
*BANG*
“I still don’t know your name!” He shouted.
*BANG*
“It’s Johnny!”
*BANG*
“I’m still scared Johnny!” He cried desperately. “I don’t think I’m ready!”
*BANG*
“I’m not ready either, buddy, but we all knew it would happen eventually.”
*BANG*
“Just remember that it’s your duty to hit or miss the target,” said Johnny. “Don’t be afraid.”
*BANG*
“…Okay, I think I’m ready.”
*BANG*
It was Will’s turn. He stared down the long tube at what was ahead of him. He started to hyperventilate.
“Willy!? What’s wrong!?”
“It…it…it’s not a paper target! It’s a—”
*BANG*
Johnny braced himself as he was raised up into the barrel. Blinded by the outside, stared down the black mile at the human at the opposite end of his expected trajectory.
A human!! How many bullets get to hit a human? Am I sure I really want to miss this?
Of course I’m sure. The human and the target are no different. I’m still going to miss!
But maybe Silvia had the right idea. There’s no harm in being average.
Silvia was nice and all, but her opinion’s not enough to sway me.
How do I know if I even have the power to miss? I could hit him regardless; it might as well be right in the center.
Forget that! I always will have the power to change my trajectory and my destiny.
He hugged the right side of the barrel and closed his eyes. He felt his primer light.
*BANG*
His insides exploded, decapitating him from his casing. He flew aerodynamically through the ether, pushing as far to the right as he could.
This is it.
He dodged the neck by an inch and plowed straight into the wall. His head expanded and crushed from existence.
