Guns Don't Kill People

The first thought that ran through my head as blood trickled out of my mouth was how did I fuck up so badly.

Its not like I came from a bad house. I was raised by a blue collar family in Indiana, my dad was a machinist by trad,e and I picked it up, getting certified at my local community college, and even getting a liberal arts degree because I was interested in world history and I felt that academic endeavors could help me grow as a person.

As I slowly came back to reality I realized there was a raged hole cut through the center of my plate carrier and my level 4 ceramic plate inside. My chest was making a noise similar to a dollar store whoopy cushion each time I inhaled and exhaled. Each breath made harder as the agony grew worse.

My hands fumbled around for my rifle. I made her back a few years back. She was completely made by me, I bought a barrel blank bored it out in .338 and put a heavy twist rate on her. She wasn't destined to shoot normal ammo but ammo of my design. She pushed out a grain tungsten sabot-ed projectile, 2 millimeters wide and around 45 millimeters long powered by a .338 lapua magnum cartridge. The round would speed out of the barrel at around 4200 feet per second.

The rifle itself was a short stroke piston system. Her barrel was stainless steel as well as most of the metal work where it was possible. It was harder to machine but gave me a 1000 year rifle, yet I still gave it a black coating with a nice wooden stock and pistol grip.

My thoughts drifted back to the events that led me here.

Shit I had fucked up something bad there were at least 20 people I possibly killed.

It wasn't supposed to go like this, I was just supposed to work a job and retire happily, but then the market crashed in 2025 the company I worked for went under and all the money I had in the bank was no where to be found. In a state of irrational anger I figured I would repay the bank much the same, as a testament to that

A testament to that was the 400k dollars worth of gold bars scattered around the back of the car, that showed I had indeed robbed the bank.

My mind rushed back to when it all went down. Early in the morning I had thrown on all the gear I had acquired in the last few years because of my hobbies and just the fact that hell I could buy a level 4 ceramic plate get a sweet ass helmet made out of ultra high density polyethylene and put ceramic tiles on it bringing it up to level 4 as well as an level 3 face shield and jaw protection made out of ceramics and Kevlar.

I probably looked like some air soft fag trying to be tacticool but the fact was that it was all just a hobby of collecting the latest in military gear. I never thought I would actually use it. I never thought things would end up this way. I didn't think that because of the massive stock crash that the banks would hire extra security that enforced a shoot on sight policy, hell I didn't think the official unemployment rate would hit 40 percent. My mind snapped back to the moment it all went bad, the very second I entered the bank.

I remember the feeling of tension and excitement as I opened the door, nervous despite the weapon held in my hand and the armor I wore. That's when the first guard popped up, shouting at me to drop my gun, while his was pointed at me.

Maybe it was a slip of his finger on his glock's trigger, but a shot rang out whistling past my head and smashing into the concrete behind me.

I had never killed a man before, heck I hadn't even killed an animal before, all that I had ever used my guns for was punch holes in paper targets at the range. Somewhere in my mind I made a conscious decision, lifted my rifle and responded by pulling the trigger.

It felt like minutes, even hours, and I swear I could see the round exit the barrel and move slowly through the air, hitting the guard right in the dead center of his vest.

 I could see the expression on his face contort from fear to anguish as the round ripped through his vest and blew apart his internal organs liquefying them as the round traveled at hypersonic speeds, and then continued on and buried its self a few feet away into the vault door where it went straight in and hit the handle and punched a clean hole.

He fell like a sack of potatoes that a person had let go of.

The light went out in his eyes and he was gone. And not even 2 seconds had passed before his buddies showed up and started shooting.

The people in the bank scattered behind what ever cover they could find.

I hid behind a pillar to the right of the entrance their hand gun rounds bounced harmlessly off the marble and they hid behind a flipped over metal table. Sadly for them that metal table wouldn't stop my rounds they shredded through it and found their marks. I could hear a short cry followed by silence an alarm rang out somewhere in the bank.

I payed no heed to the human suffering around me. I was only focused on one goal, the money in the vault.

Luckily the vault door was open and I could even see the perfectly clean hole that my round had punched in it. This rifle wasn't meant to take lives it was meant to punch holes in paper targets 1.5 miles away. Although that was a thought that never crossed my mind,  I ran quickly into the vault and smashed open the safe deposit boxes containing gold coins and bars, which I greedily shoved into my shoulder bag.

Wait what was that noise? Were those sirens? Shit how could the cops be here already I had only committed my acts of robbery 4 minutes ago, how could they be that fast?

 Never once did it cross my mind the police were on alert due to the market turmoil and had pre-positioned cops around financial institutions.

This left me in quite the issue, If I exited out front I would be greeted by no less than 4 squad cars carrying 2 officers armed with AR-15 semi automatic rifles. Neither of which I was too keen on meeting.

I decided to exit the rear of the building carrying my ill gotten riches, which I immediately dropped by a sedan. My personal car was 4 cars down to the right but if I traversed that I would expose my self to fire from the officers.

It seems they were still trying to secure the initial area. Things were going from bad to worse I saw a quick movement by one of the cars followed by a shout of he's over there.

I barely looked down the sights, sick to my stomach as I pulled the trigger once more. I heard a tump followed by a fall and shouts of officer down as I hid behind the engine of the red sedan. I heard their rounds slam into the car and waited for a slight pause where I could return fire. I could see their feet sticking out from the bottom of the car, I aimed roughly in their general direction and fired till my magazine was dry. 15 shots and then I pulled it out and inserted a fresh one.

I heard a voice shouting about wounded officers, along with a cry of "my arm! it's gone" .

A brief flash of emotional empathy ran through my head I wondered if the man played sports, and I know it was an odd thought but I would hate to deprive some one of something or some one they loved.

I had to push that aside right now it was do or die. And I knew I didn't want to die.

I quickly rolled out from the sedan to a car diagonally across so that I could get a better position on the remaining enemies.

Wait. Did I say enemies? No, these were humans. They were officers just working their jobs. They had families and friends. They probably even listened to the same music I did.

It was too late to try and smooth things over, I had already killed so many people my only option left was to keep digging this hole I had dug deeper until it was deep enough to be my grave.

" surrender now and you will be treated fairly by the us legal system". Right I thought to my self. I had just killed 4 law enforcement officers and had maimed a 5th who might die of his wounds.

I doubt I could survive in prison I also doubted my survival given my current fiscal state. My only option left, much like the officers,  was to fight. I didn't even bother to reply as I peeked out from the van I was using as cover, I quickly made two snap shots both of which connected to the targets I aimed at.

One of the officers must have had a ceramic insert because I heard a loud crack upon impact , although that sound wasn't the worst as I heard another officer scream out in some guttural language that only a human in immense pain could utter. Some type of primitive animalistic call that anyone who spoke any language would understand. I quickly ran back to where the engine was located so I would be shielded from the cops incoming rounds.

I heard the shots tear through the back of the van where I previously was. It rocked back and forth from the impact of the rounds.

Half of the officers were down or dead. That only left 4 more til I could get to my car.

Some of them tried flanking my position while the others kept suppressing fire. I raised my gun over the hood and fired blindly emptying two 20 round magazines in their general direction, before quickly lowering it and shouldering it.

I smelled gasoline. I must have hit a fuel line in one of their cars or maybe even the tank. Regardless it was all I could smell.

The thought barely registered in my head as my stomach sank. The officers returned fire when I heard a whoosh. The two officers flanking me momentarily paused. It didn't dawn on them that by firing their weapons near the gas leak they could ignite the vapors near them.

They were too busy fighting for their lives, to stop a monster. The monster I had become.

I was no longer the good funny guy who would take the shirt off his back to help a neighbor, I was no longer the loved child of a family. I had permanently altered what I would be remembered for. I would be a monster who killed 20 law enforcement agents, and destroyed so many families.

I popped up from the front of the van again taking aim at the last two officers who were running back to help their blazing comrades. I uttered a quick prayer to save my soul as I put one round in each of their lower left shoulder blades.

My god how I regretted each moment and action. It was almost as If I was watching a horror movie, and I couldn't control my actions. They seemed out of my control, but they were.

I made this decision, and I had to follow through on it. The consequences and all were mine to reap. I was the only one who was to blame, My brash impulsiveness had dammed me to my fate.

I could hear the screams of the remaining officers as the fire spread, engulfing them in flames. It wouldn't be a quick death.

I couldn't imagine the pain they were in, but for whatever reason I put down my gun and ran to the first squad car and grabbed the fire extinguisher and tired to put out the flames on the officers.

I saw the destruction I had wrought. The bodies of their coworkers lay strewn about like refuge from a spill.

I saw one officer clutching his severed arm in between his thighs while his eyes lifelessly stared up at the sky. The worst was yet to greet me as I put out the fire I could see two humanoid forms appear from the blaze I could barely recognize the vests that once had the word Police brightly printed across the front of their chests.

I could smell something sickly sweet it almost smelled like a pork barbecue.

I looked at their faces their was no skin left, no muscle. I couldn't even see their eyes. All I heard was the moans they made as they rolled back and forth.

No, no. This cant be happening, this cannot be happening, I thought to my self.

Dear god what should I do. The burns were extensive but if they got medical treatment they might survive. But even then I had terribly maimed 2 human beings dear god, I could not be forgiven, I thought as I quickly dropped the fire extinguisher and rushed to the bag containing the gold. I ran back to my car and started it

How many people had I killed?

The thought ran through my mind as I did a quick mental calculation. There were 3 guards in the bank and 8 officers, two of which were still alive when I left. That means I killed 9 men in less then 10 minutes. All for what? Material wealth.

The suffering I had caused could never be worth the monetary gain, nor the images seared into my brain that I will never forget. They never talk about this in the action movies, now do they? I thought to my self.

As I sped along the highway in my jeep wrangler. Suddenly I saw a corridor of flashing lights ahead.

"oh shit a road block" I quickly steered off the road and into a few bushes and quickly turned the truck around and speed back to an intersection where I headed in the opposite direction. I heard a few shots ring out. Some of them made contact with the truck.

One shattered the rear windshield.

I had an idea pop into my mind and I impulsively acted on it.

I positioned my truck directly in front of the cop car and slammed on the brakes, smashing my fender into the hood of the squad car.

My truck spun out and rolled on its roof, finally landing on its wheels.
I quickly unbuckled my seat belt and took out my rifle.

I dumped two magazines worth of ammo into the squad car. I saw the 4 officers slump down.

I could see the horrific image before me and ran back into my truck and hid from the carnage around me like a coward.

I sped off. I no longer felt any anger about the money I lost nor the job I lost.

I felt sadness and despair as I drove my battered truck down the road. I soon encountered another police blockade. I took my rifle and fired it through the front windshield and sped up my truck.

The officers fired back. I felt something hit my chest but it didn't stop me I saw the speedometer pass 100 I heard something hit the front of the truck and the engine started making a banging noise but sir Isaac newton took care of the rest.

I plowed into the SUV they were using to block the road. It flipped over and crushed 2 officers who were running away from the collision. and my shots had connected with the other two. The steering wheel impacted my chest as the car crumpled up around me, the last thing I heard was the sound of breaking glass and screeching metal.

that's how I came to be in this situation, I thought to my self as darkness slowly enveloped my vision.

The pain I felt slowly faded to numbness as my blood pooled up bellow me on the car mat. I tried to move my legs but they were pinned, and likely hamburger meat.

As the darkness enveloped my vision I desperately tried to move only to find my limbs, flailing around helplessly like that of a new born child's.

 I couldn't move I could only rasp in horror as it became darker and colder and my vision faded altogether.

I heard boots on the asphalt and heard some one say "Is he in there is he alive?" followed by some one saying "I don't think so. He isn't moving".

That is the last thing I heard. or would ever hear.

Since then its only been darkness. The only thing I have are the memories of what I have done, the horror of it all.

The suffering I had caused.

Dear god why wont the images stop.

I can't escape them they follow me through the void.

Dear god, why.. why wont they stop. I am dead. Why cant they let me forget?

Dear god I am sorry please.. please stop.

This is the hell of my own making I built the wall and sealed shut the door.

There is no way out.

This is all that there is left for me.