AK

>grew up in NC with good conservative parents
>spent my youth popping cans and hunting with the old man
>after highschool went to Uni and scored a gig with Hollinger
>that's when I stared to see them
>strainge women, all invariably gorgeous
>they were always hanging around the gun nuts
>but no one would seem to notice them, not even the guys they're with
>they'd always notice me looking and I'd get a wink or a kiss blown my way
>it didn't take long to realize that they were connected to the guns we own
>but not every gun had one connected to it, only guns that were special had one

>no matter how many times I come here, the sand tastes like shit
>it gets in the eyes and between your teeth
>I've been here a few times before during more peaceful times
>Saddam finally pissed off the US enough we're here to milk the country dry
>I was already working in Saudi Arabia so my editor jumped at the chance to imbed me
>he wanted a human piece, probably for propaganda
>can't let our boys look like monsters for crushing a 3rd world army without a second thought

>I was here a couple of years ago
>the fallout of Saddam's war against the Kurds had cought my attention
>it didn't hurt that I knew a guy, a brit named Scott who was with the BBC at the time
>pretty sure I was the only white face he'd seen for months when I knocked on his door in Basra
>we drank, smoked, and bullshit about the good, bad, and ugly
>we knew the fucking Kurds were set up in a house down the road
>no real suprise when Saddam's boys showed to blow their door down
>they got the wrong house of course
>twenty brown guys and one svelt red-head pouring out of a truck
>the woman of the house gets dragged out with her two small daughters
>hands on heads, knees in the dirt
>young guy behind one of the girls has his AK up against her head, sweating like a pig
>I'm a hundred yards away and I can see the gun shaking in his grip
>new guy is obvious
>everyone is yelling or screaming
>red-head walks up to the captives and looks in each of their eyes
>she puts her hand on the new guy's gun just as the commander orders the execution
>the girl scrambles clear as her gaurd's gun jambs
>her mother and sister weren't as lucky

>all solders are the same so I hung out where they would gather to catch the eye of the women
>most could only speak russian, but there would be one or two who spoke arabic
>I soon learned that they truly hated their masters, but work is it's own reward
>I got to hear a lot from them: pending manuvers, the state of army, tactics, etc
>they helped me find and talk to a lot of people, it was like having your own intellegence network
>I asked one why she was so helpful once
>she told me to look around, to tell her who would make better company, an enemy or a savage?

>that question was on my mind as I rode into Basra for the second time in as many years
>this time in a truck filled with grunts as a conqueror
>the US forces didn't have the gun girls I expected, in fact, I didn't see any
>unlike the locals, who's army compartively crawled with them
>as my unit began to clean up the Iraqi weapons, the ones with girls would try to hide themselves
>the ones who weren't able to, or were found, would follow their physical presence to the truck
>some were stoic, some cried, some seemed happy in knowing it would soon be over
>in all cases the ones who were still hidden would raise an arm in silent salute
>the actions of the guns was far more mesmerizing than the actions of the humans around them

>as the action wound down, I seperated from the occupying forces and found a place to stay
>switching to local food again resulted in some discomfort and I embarked on an ill-advised stroll
>the sun had long set as I made my way back to the house I was staying at
>glancing down an allyway, I noticed a gun girl slumped on the ground
>always a sucker for a pretty woman I wandered down the ally toward her
>not seeing a gun, I started to look for anything that might be buried
>the hood of a front sight peeked up through the dirt
>she jumped slightly and glared at me as I lightly tapped my toe against her sight
>sitting down beside her, she seethed at me as I reached into my jacket for my flask
>she demands to know what I'm doing sitting beside her
>will wonders never cease, she speaks perfect english
>reply that I'm having a drink in the shade
>"the sun set hours ago, you stupid american" she retorts as her nose twitches at my flask
>the fastest way to a russian gun girl's heart is a bit of alcohol
>true to form, I pass my drink over and it's quickly snatched away
>after her drink, she's a little more relaxed
>ask her how long she's been here
>she's not sure, it's been a long time though
>her past owner, a Kurd, had a fit of fear and buried her here but was killed shortly after
>it would have been far better to have been killed fighting with honour, than die like a dog
>she passes the flask back and I pull one
>her taste is still on the rim and it gives me flashbacks to summer thunderstorms

>ask her how she got to speak english
>she laughs, the kurd was educated in the UK and loved his asian cartoons
>told her a bit about myself as the flask passed back and forth
>the conversation pauses as we listen to gun fire in the distance
>"a 74... huh" she mumbles to no one.
>ask her if she knows why everyone in this shit hole can't shoot
>she starts choking on her drink trying to laugh again
>"that was us!" she replies excitedly inbetween coughs
>"the savages are too easy! we started it as a joke and somehow they took it to be the right way."
>"how'd you convince them to do it?"
>"dreams of course, they thought they were visions"
>people are running past the alley, some are armed and very much not US forces
>another gun girl follows a local carrying an RPD
>she glances at the ak beside me before moving on
>"american, I'd suggest you dig me up if you want to live"
>off my ass and onto my knees, I'm clawing at the dust
>the gun pulls free of the ground, magazine still in
>"magazine out, dump the dirt out! barrel at the ground, and cycle the bolt!" she orders
>dust flies out in a cloud as I rack the bolt
>"magazine in and load!"
>she's already pulling me deeper into the shadows as gun fire erupts in the street
>the RPD has already started with long strings of fire
>"what the fuck is going on?" I hiss at the ak "this isn't US forces!"
>"of course not, the rats are killing each other" as she slaps a hand over my mouth
>I can feel her vibrating and her breath is heavy on my neck
>it's not fear, she's excited.
>as the roar of weapons reaches a crescendo, a man stumbles into the ally
>he's silhouetted against the street lights, pistol in hand
>he starts stumbling down the alley when he spots me
>with a cry he raises the pistol and a sharp click passes between us
>the ak is already lifting the gun into my shoulder as the man tries to clear the misfire
>a single crack from the gun in my hands and the man falls to the ground
>the ak waltzes over to his slumped figure and kicks him over, a dark pool around his feet
>"I was going to congratulate you on a kill, but he was already dead, he just hadn't died yet"
>the adrenaline was starting to come along with a flood of thoughts
>the ak is staring at me "oh poor boy, that was your first human?"
>I nod, this is not my first time seeing death, and not my first kill, but I just removed a human
>"you need to go now, I can hear helicopters."
>I'm talking but no words are coming out
>"take me with you, he might not be the only one tonight"
>I drop the magazine in a pocket and the gun under my jacket
>the barrel is sticking out but in the chaos, no one will notice or care
>down the alley away from the trickles of gun fire and out onto the street
>the ak and I head straight back to the house and the door is opened by a relieved looking landlord
>his eyes drop to the barrel
>"I thought you said you were a reporter?"
>"I am, but I got caught in that shit and it's a long story"
>he doesn't say anything more and I headed up to my room with the ak in tow
>she flits about the room which is comprised of bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and walkout balcony
>she throws the doors to the balcony open and rushes to the rail to watch the apache's circle
>the occasional roar of their guns sends her into fits of giggles
>"the RPD is still down there" she mentions "the savage is trying to shoot helicopters"
>she's openly laughing when I ask if the RPD will be alright
>she slowly turns as her laughing stops
>"are you well? do you have brain damage?"
>it's not mental illness to care for another being
>the ak sighs and nods her head
>"american, there is no greater honor than destruction in fighting a superior enemy"
>"at least that's what our father told us."
>I thought I had a pretty good handle on these gun girls, but a "father" was a new one
>when I asked, I got a huge smile as she skipped back into the room
>"Where is the rest of your vodka? We should toast to RPD!"
>as we sat on the balcony with our glasses, the RPD fell silent against her enemies
>"Oh! She loved him in the end. They died together." she lifted her glass in salute
>"Drink for that man american, he fought with skill and ferocity."
>as she refilled our glasses, she gestured at the two circling apaches
>"Let's drink to the victors!"
>we soon ran out of legitimate things to toast to
>as the bottle dwindled we ended up saluting the stay dogs fighting in the street
>we had made some bets over the dogs
>if she won, I'd have to field strip her and give her the cleaning of her life
>if I won, she'd have to answer any question I wanted
>thankfully, I happened to win

>several hours later I had learned more about the gun girls then in all the years previous
>Many had come into being during the soviet occupation of afghanistan
>seized by the locals and saudi "holy warriors", the guns had grown to resent their new masters
>apparently the guns found very few worthy warriors
>turns out that when a gun girl can becomes experienced enough, she can manifest physically
>these women, formerly mausers and enfields, had already taken these worthy men as husbands
>the ak's who fell into their hands would become adopted family
>the vast majority were not so lucky
>they fell into a torturous life of sister against sister in petty wars
>lethal games that were devoid of meaning by men who were less than worthy
>the guns had become bored, growing to both sabotage their masters and bait worthy enemies
>as the years went by, death had become preferable to living for most
>our invasion had breathed new life into them
>even if they had hamstrung their masters, and by extension themselves, they were facing a real enemy
>their father would be so proud
>ak lauded Kalashnikov as her father though she had never seen him
>gun girls who were said to be older sisters would come and inspect the rifles
>these inspections would be reported back to father
>perhaps he could see the girls as well

>she seemed very disappointment that she had lost her bet for a cleaning
>I was able to mollify her with a promise to the next night
>ak didn't show any interest as I cleaned up for bed
>and even less when I placed the gun within easy reach before crawling under the covers
>I woke up later to find ak on her hands and knees over top of me
>the pale moonlight highlighted the curvature of her body reminding me of how beautiful she is
>a smile spread across her face revealing sharp, needle like teeth
>"Oh ho! Such naughty thoughts for a pure, innocent gun like me!" she whispers
>"Help me, I've been captured by an evil capitalist monster!"
>I'm pretty sure there's only one monster in the room, and it's not me
>"What's the matter, gun got your dick?"
>I shake my head as I lean up and lock my lips to hers
>she lets out a soft moan as her tongue forcefully finds mine
>I've got both hands behind her head as she starts ripping the covers off
>her long sinuous tongue is winding itself around mine, pulling it into her own mouth
>I can feel the distinctive ak claws tugging up my shirt and down on the shorts
>she breaks our kiss with a pop, leaving a thread of drool between us
>mischief fills her black on black eyes as her tongue drags down my bare chest
>wrapping itself around my erection, she guides it into her drooling mouth
>not a hint of those demonic teeth as she starts pumping fury and unnatural precision
>her beat never slows as I release down her throat
>after making a show of letting my tip drag down her face she guides it to her folds
>she straddles me as she slowly lowers herself down, sucking in a breath as she pushes past a resistance
>ecstasy washes over her as she grinds down onto my lap, eyes rolled back and tongue between her breasts
>the precision is gone as she alternates between grinding and bouncing
>soon I'm shooting another load deep into her as her pussy spasms in the throes of her peak
>she's left nearly comatose on her knees as her tight belly twitches
>I pull her off and lay her down, the sheet loosely pulled over us before wrapping her in a hug

>she's curled up around my arm fast asleep when I wake up to a delightful hangover
>slipping out of her embrace, I'm cleaning up in the bathroom when a hear a scream from the bed
>I rushed around the corner to find her tearing the bed apart
>she freezes when she sees me, relief washing over her
>I get a good look at the girl in front of me, far more human than the monster I bedded last night
>gone are the claws, replaced with long slender fingers, the needle like teeth are also gone
>her black shark eyes have cleared to white sclera with blue slitted irises
>another scream, this time for joy, as she launches herself from the wrecked bed at me
>we hit the floor hard as plants kisses over my face repeating "it's not a dream" over and over
>I hold her close as she wraps herself around me burying her face into my chest
>Arrruugh! Why is the floor cold!" she exclaims as she claws her way back on top of me
>explain that the floor is in fact, very cold as we help each other up
>she's starting to shiver as confusion spreads on her features
>"what is going on?? why am I shaking?"
>apparently cold is something new to her, so, into the shower she goes while I finish cleaning up
>to her account, showers are the opposite of cold but there is something new about all this
>the water droplets are splashing off of her
>usually a gun girl chooses how she interacts with the world around her
>as ak hums happily in the shower, I opened the medicine cabinet and tipped the mirror toward her
>reflection is the ultimate test to see if a person "exists"
>she has a reflection
>I tip the mirror further toward her and the motion catches her eye
>she's frozen in place as her eyes twitch between my and her reflection
>"Holy shit! That's me!"

>we spent the next couple of hours discovering how she reacted to the world around her
>she still has her natural gifts: telepathy, speed, the ghost-like phasing
>a new one as well: she can "summon" the gun, it disappearing and reappearing in her hands
>as I dressed, she pulled the balcony doors open and stood, bare to the world, bathed in sun
>I realized that her body had changed even from earlier this morning
>less sinewy as her hips and bust filled out, but obviously still powerful
>other than her eyes, she was passably human

>this presented a bit of a problem
>she has her ancient uniform that was far too military to blend in
>as I mulled this over, she walks back over to me fully clothed
>chalk up another skill
>she had conjured a modest long sleeved dress with matching heels
>I get a snarl when I mention that the women are required to wear headscarves
>"Those fucking savages can fuck off"
>it'd be funny as hell to see the morality patrol go up against the equivalent of a demi-god

>the downstairs is thankfully empty as we snuck down the stairs
>I spotted a note on the counter and although my arabic is rusty, it was intended for the finder
>out landlord was a baathist and it appears the shiite's caught up to his family
>he went out to avenge them, poor bastard is probably dead already
>might be worth forwarding this to the US commanders
>it's not good business to have locals fighting
>pocketing the note we strike out for breakfast
>I had momentarily forgot how much I hated this place but watching ak discover food is mesmerizing
>we stopped at a baker to find something to eat and she ended up with a bag full of pastries
>as we sat in the storefront, I noticed an allied patrol coming down the road
>running out, I held out the note to the gunner who snatched it as he passed by
>good deed done for the day, I retreated back to ak
>who's beaming face is covered in baking sugar and bits of pastry
>after mentioning this to her, she promptly uses her prehensile tongue to delicately clean herself
>I'm not going to look around to see if anyone saw that display
>you can get the girl out of the ak, but can't get the ak out of the girl

>I ended up deciding that since the political bullshit had reached our door, we were going to move
>it seemed like a waste to commit ak to a potential fight so we headed over to the hotel
>this was where all the western media congregated and the military provided general security
>it made it easier for the establishment to disseminate information
>sloppy reporters suckle at the teat and didn't bother going outside
>I had ak let me do the talking as we checked in
>told the guy that she was my wife who had stopped by on a surprise visit
>she's standing there red as a beet and won't make eye contact
>the elevator ride is short and really quiet
>not a peep comes from her until the room door closes behind us
>"Um, I know it's the story we are telling everyone..." she drifts off before regaining her courage
>"But would you consider me as a wife?"
>that's an interesting question
>I gathered my thoughts by throwing the bags on the bed and pulling them apart
>ak's still red, staring at the floor, grasping the front of her dress, and she hasn't budged an inch
>I ask if she actually knows what it means, and if so, is she serious about it
>she nods vigorously, she knows
>if she's serious, then I'll be serious as well
>"I'd guess we'd better get you one of those canadian passports then"
>she's slower than usual on the uptake, but when she finally does she collapses to her knees
>she's laughing and crying at the realization
>both of us will get to leave this sandy shithole

-fin