[ WP ] `` They call us monsters , son . ''

The damage had been done. Their lives taken. No mercy. 
 I can still hear the screams of the school bus as the explosion hit. Thirty-five nubile squeals fading to the dull roar. A fiery monster made from the lives of children. Black metal skeleton twisted in agony amongst the unforgiving flame. 
 We'd gotten too ambitious, too anxious, too quick to pull the trigger. Caught in the explosion, scorched by a Hell of our own creation. Dragging him, Father, to the safe house was n't easy. Dead weight nearly; if it was n't for the incoherent babbling but at least he'd stopped screaming. But eventually I did it, dragged us back to the safe house. Leaving a trail of plasma and hollow justifications. 
 It had to be done. The government had n't listened. We made them listen. `` Monsters, we're monsters'' I hack through burnt vocal chords. Smoke inhalation; smoking kills. I smirk and take another drag on my cigarette. 
 Father sits in the corner, sobbing. Half the man he was, literally, the burns do n't help. Burnt like the demon he his and already halfway to Hell. 
 They'll find us soon but it does n't matter. We scorched out their heart. This time they'll listen. 
 
 

