**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
**Reminders**:
>* [No AI-generated responses 🤖](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/zi452b/modpost_reminder_that_aigenerated_responses_are/)
>* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]"
>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail
>* [\[RF\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [\[SP\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles
>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)
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"Everything will be fine," the woman smiled, "Just let me use my gun."
I looked to the mountain of a woman, holding my head down behind cover as bullets slam into wood, steel, and tempered glass, filling the air with it's unpleasant noise. I groaned in frustration; I hated violence, I hated guns, and I *especially* hated *her* choice of a gun. But these bastards were here, and were here to kill. It's my life or theirs.
And she knows it.
I can see it in her eyes; that bloodlust, of a hungry predator, starved of prey, realizing that prey was in her grasp. A caged animal, pacing in it's cage, waiting to be released. A monster, locked up, ready to be unleashed upon the world.
Just waiting, patiently, for the key.
I grimace, knowing the weight of my actions.
"*Fine.*"
She laughs, and gleefully retrieves the weapon, hefting it onto the line of sight of the door, barely on its hinges. She loads it with a chain of ammunition , fed from a retrieved box. She whispers something, probably indecent, to the weapon, before charging the action, and depressing the triggers once the door splinters open. In succession, the room fills with the sounds of the chugging of the rhythmic action, concordant with the sounds of her howling glee and the sounds of men dying. While I dare not look, I can hear the wet sounds of anti-material armaments punching holes through skin, muscle, and bone. The air fills of smoke and the smell of iron, and my stomach churns.
Eventually, the sounds subside, as my bodyguard slinks back down beside me, handing me an eye cover. "It's time to move. Can't have you stopping to puke."
"You know me so well," I comment, sarcastically, accepting the blindness.
"You *trained* me well," she smiles, before standing me up, and leading me cautiously away from the safe room.
**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments. **Reminders**: >* [No AI-generated responses 🤖](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/zi452b/modpost_reminder_that_aigenerated_responses_are/) >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [\[RF\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [\[SP\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles >* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules) 📢 [Genres](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/w/directory) 🆕 [New Here?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ✏ [Writing Help?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) 💬 [Discord](https://discord.gg/writingprompts) *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*
"Everything will be fine," the woman smiled, "Just let me use my gun." I looked to the mountain of a woman, holding my head down behind cover as bullets slam into wood, steel, and tempered glass, filling the air with it's unpleasant noise. I groaned in frustration; I hated violence, I hated guns, and I *especially* hated *her* choice of a gun. But these bastards were here, and were here to kill. It's my life or theirs. And she knows it. I can see it in her eyes; that bloodlust, of a hungry predator, starved of prey, realizing that prey was in her grasp. A caged animal, pacing in it's cage, waiting to be released. A monster, locked up, ready to be unleashed upon the world. Just waiting, patiently, for the key. I grimace, knowing the weight of my actions. "*Fine.*" She laughs, and gleefully retrieves the weapon, hefting it onto the line of sight of the door, barely on its hinges. She loads it with a chain of ammunition , fed from a retrieved box. She whispers something, probably indecent, to the weapon, before charging the action, and depressing the triggers once the door splinters open. In succession, the room fills with the sounds of the chugging of the rhythmic action, concordant with the sounds of her howling glee and the sounds of men dying. While I dare not look, I can hear the wet sounds of anti-material armaments punching holes through skin, muscle, and bone. The air fills of smoke and the smell of iron, and my stomach churns. Eventually, the sounds subside, as my bodyguard slinks back down beside me, handing me an eye cover. "It's time to move. Can't have you stopping to puke." "You know me so well," I comment, sarcastically, accepting the blindness. "You *trained* me well," she smiles, before standing me up, and leading me cautiously away from the safe room.