Xander’s fingers tensed around the object in his hands, ready to pull it out in a moment’s notice. His eyes locked on his target, a small, freckled teen, fumbling around with laces on his boots.

“My people won’t let you win. Not this time.” The former spoke, keeping his tone low and ominous. The small boy brought his gaze forward, eyes burning their way through the soul of the taller boy.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, my friend.” He chuckled, menacingly. His lips turned up into a cruel smile, causing the tanned boy to take a step back, intimidated. While taking a step back, his foot hit a rock. Stumbling, he tried to regain his footing but failed and with as little grace as humanly possible, he went tumbling towards the ground. Xander laid on the floor, his eyes closed, braced for death. But when he had opened his eyes again, he saw that his opponent had left. His eyes locked on him on the other side of the battle field, conversing with his team. Enraged, he came running towards the freckled boy, weapon in hand.

“You coward!” He bellowed, waving his weapon. His enemy merely laughed and lowered the weapon that was being waved in front of his face.

“Careful, you might hurt someone.” He teased, walking away. Xander closed his eyes with frustration, tired of this fight, when he heard a loud shot. Panicked, he opened his eyes and ran towards the sound of the deafening shot.


When he got there it was a sight he couldn’t believe. It was one of his teammates. He was lying on the floor, red staining his blue uniform.

“Vincent!” Xander cried, holding onto his friend.

“Who did this to you!” He choked out through the tears, motioning towards his jacket that is stained a blood red.

“Sylvester.” He mumbled, coughing violently between syllables. Xander began to try and lift his injured friend, only to be stopped by a weak hand preventing him.

“No.” Was all that the weak teen could say.

“What?” Xander asked, confused that he would want to be left in a place like this.

“You leave me here. Save yourself, there’s still a chance for you.” Hearing these words, caused Xander to cry more.

“Please. Please let me help you.”

“There’s nothing that you can do for me.” He whispered. Xander took one final glance at his fallen comrade before he ran over to avenge him.


Frantic. Panicked. Alone. He was the last person on his side on the battlefield. He was the only person left. He knew what he needed to do. He needed to win. Not only for himself, but for all the people he had lost during this gruesome battle. His senses were heightened; his heart was pounding. Was he dying? He couldn’t let that happen. Sluggishly picking up his weapon he stumbled slightly towards the group of enemies. They all turned in surprise, grabbing their weapons ready to strike. In one foul swoop, he took out all three of them. Without a blink of an eye or breath taken into the lungs, he was running again. Running. Running. Running. His eyes were burning with tears that threatened to spill, his throat was tight and he found it hard to breath. He had to win. He couldn’t lose. Not to them.


“I won’t let you win!” He heard a disembodied voice. He knew that voice. He ducked behind a bush quickly so that he could think about a plan. Loud bangs were heard, he had one again narrowly avoided death.

“You can’t run from me forever!” The voice taunted, another round of shots. This time closer.

“Are you scared? It doesn’t hurt that bad.” The voice teased, chuckling manically. Another round of shots. Closer.

“You know your fate, you can’t escape it.” Another round of shots. They were now so close that the noise caused Xander’s ears to ring slightly. He moved back. He was not ready to engage. Not yet. He needed a plan. He couldn’t risk this. There was too much riding on this.

“I’ll fight you when I want to fight you.” Xander called out to the silence battlefield, earning an incredulous scoff from the freckled boy. 

“You’re running out of time.” He taunted in sing-song. Moving away back to his own safety. They sat there for some time, each not wanting to make the first move. Both of them wanted to win. They both had something to prove.


Xander looked down at his leg and noticed he was bleeding. Must have cut it on the thorn bush. He thought to himself, cursing himself loudly.

“The cries of the weak.” His opponent chuckled, checking his weapon. Now would be a good time for me to strike. Xander thought to himself quickly, before occupying himself with stopping his leg from bleeding.

“Let’s end this!” Xander called, leaving the safety of the bush.

“Yes, lets.” The enemy said, mimicking his actions. Xander heard the sound of leaves and branches breaking getting louder and louder. He went to pick up his weapon. It wasn’t there. Oh no. He’s right there. Xander’s mind filled with anxious self-doubt. What was he doing? Why was he doing this? What was he hoping to achieve by risking so much?

“No!” Xander bellowed, making sure to keep his voice straight and steady when standing face to face with his worst nightmare. The stern tone in Xander’s voice caused his opponent to take a step back, surprised by the force of the command.

“What? You can’t do that! You cant back out now!” the freckled boy screeched, voice becoming more and more frantic with every syllable.

“I believe I can.” Xander was cocky now, he had let his guard down. Only a few seconds left. While he was thinking, the small boy took advantage of his distracted state and with one elegant pull of the trigger. Bang!


There was a silence that rung through the battlefield. 2 second left on the clock.

“Babe!” The fallen soldier whined, laying on the floor like an infant that was just told that their parent won’t buy them the toy they want.

“What?” The enemy chuckled, offering a hand to the taller boy, who took it gratefully.

“You always win, Finnley!” Xander pouted, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend.

“Maybe you’re just terrible at paintballing,” his gaze dropped to the cut on his leg, “and clumsy. How did you manage that.”

“Manage what?”

“How did you manage to cut your leg.”

“There are thorn bushes everywhere.”

“And you’re wearing padding.”

“Shut up.” Xander pouted more, causing Finnley to giggle slightly. He grabbed the pouty teen’s clammy hand and led him over to the table where all of the other players sat.

“Which team won?” Vincent asked, looking up from his book.

“The red team!” Finnley yelled, earning a gently punch in the side from his stroppy boyfriend. From the distance, a slow clapping could be heard. All intrigued, the group walked over to see the event organiser’s table.

“That was a very interesting game.” One of the organisers chucked, earning cheers from the tired teenagers.

“A little over dramatic, but that’s what makes it fun.” The second organiser added, taking a bite out of their slice of pizza. Looking at that pizza reminded Xander that he hasn’t eaten in hours.

“This was fun guys, let’s go get pizza.” He said, earning more cheers from the teens.

“Oh great, I’m starving!” Sylvester called, excitement ringing through his voice. with that, the group left the harsh battlefield and went to go get pizza from the brightly coloured restaurant across the road. For the rest of the evening, they stayed in the restaurant talking and laughing about the day’s events until the manager had to ask them to leave so that he could close up.

December 06, 2019 23:32

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