Against The Wall

Benjamin fidgeted as the truck bounced and shook, the rickety suspension swaying as it rolled across the poorly maintained dirt road that wound through the Chipperdane Forest to the execution site. The young boy glanced at the other prisoners, each one contemplating their impending death with varying amounts of success.

There were 4 others with him. All of them were minors, the children of those considered inconvenient to the current regime.

There was Susan, a 12 year old girl with bright hazel eyes, chocolate skin, and messy brown hair. James, a tall and slender 14 year old, pale as snow with strawberry blonde hair cut short. Olivia, the eldest of the bunch, a 17 year old with perky tits, a ginger braid and a shy smile.

Then, there was himself. Benjamin, age 15, short, slender, with a feminine face, glossy brunette hair tied into a pony tail, and soft ivory skin smattered with freckles. Puberty had come late for him, leaving him to be mistaken for a girl, to his eternal chagrin, and to the delight of high school bullies.

All of them wore the same ill fitting clothes, cheap polyester shirts and stained gym shorts. Benjamin stared at his lap, looking at the large brownish-red stain covering the crotch. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had caused it.

Suddenly, the truck jolted to a stop, its brakes creaking in protest. There was the sound of doors opening, then slamming shut. The guards spoke, and one laughed. Then, they opened the rear door of the truck.

Benjamin winced as the mid day light flooded the dark interior. A hand grabbed his shoulder and roughly pulled him out. With his hands tied behind him, Benjamin stumbled to the ground, almost slipping as his bare feet came into contact with the cool, wet mud.

This was it. The infamous Recycling Center, where people disappeared forever. It was a large clearing in the woodland, with a simple brick wall about 8 meters high and 10 meters long at the far end. The guards wordlessly pushed him and the others forward, towards the wall. As they got closer, Benjamin could see the pockmarks left by pistol bullets, as well as the dried old bloodstains. He also saw the table, where a single revolver and a box of bullets lay.

His legs weakened. As he buckled, the guards flanking him caught him and hauled him back up. They dragged him towards the wall as he began to hyperventilate.

The others managed to quell their terror long enough to walk up to the wall unaided. As they stood shivering, a guard pulled a blindfold over their eyes and tied it tight. When he came to Benjamin, the boy shook his head violently. "Are you sure?", the guard spoke, a quizzical tone in his voice.

"…Yes".

The guard shrugged and shoved the blindfold back into his vest pocket. Benjamin stared at the wall in front of him, and grit his teeth.

"Kneel".

The prisoners slowly got to their knees.

Benjamin heard the sound of the revolver being cocked. There was a minute of silence, then a thunderous bang as the gun was fired, point blank into the back of Susan's head.

The young girl dropped dead immediately, the large .45 Long Colt bullet carving through her brain stem and exiting out her cheek in a shower of blood and bone fragments.

Olivia let loose a shriek of fear that trailed off into sobbing. There was another click as the hammer was pulled back again, resetting the single action trigger.


Another minute went by.

This time, it was Jame's turn.

The guard, perhaps in a sadistic mood, decide to shoot the 14 year old in the nape of the neck. The bullet deformed as it punched through his C4 vertebrae, sending it spiralling out the side of his throat, slicing open his external carotid on its way. The blonde fell forward, hitting the wall and sliding down along his face. Blood jetted out of the exit wound as he gurgled desperately, his firm legs kicking as he bled out in the mud.

Olivia was a quivering, sweating mess by that point.
As the guard once more cocked the gun, she wet herself, piss dripping down her shapely legs.

"Please, don't kill me, please please ple-".

Her cries were silenced as the gun roared again. This time, the guard shot her right between her shoulder blades. The bullet passed by her spine and zipped through her heart, punching out her chest in a splatter of blood. She dropped face first into the mud like a bag of flour, unconscious within a second, and dead within the minute.

Benjamin's mouth was dry as he heard the guard walk up to him and cock the revolver. The muzzle pressed against the back of his head, and he instinctively flinched. Benjamin could feel his heart racing, the sound of blood roaring in his ears as the last minute of his life ticked away, second by second.

He didn't hear the gun fire, nor did he feel the bullet go through his head, pulping his sensory and prefrontal cortex and tumbling out his forehead in a crimson red bloom that covered the wall in front of him with blood and brain matter. For Benjamin, his death was mercifully quick and painless.

The guards left the bodies there for another couple minutes as they walked back to the shack for a drink and a smoke break. Blood stained, broken and limp, the young corpses slowly stiffened as the sun peered out behind the grey clouds.

Within the hour, they would be stripped naked, then dumped into the mass grave to join the hundreds of other unlucky souls that met their untimely end at the hands of the regime.