He was nervous and scared, so had trouble sleeping in the run up to the big event. No doubt there would be success, but also the chance for martyrdom- which he believed was just a higher expression of success, and would bring honor to his memory among his clan. There was no denying that the cause he was engaged in was just and part of god’s plan for his people. Unable to sleep, Ali rose, dressed, and wandered the streets until he encountered a whore he paid to help him reduce his stress. He was able to sleep afterward and dreamt dreams of one destined for greatness.
The dancers were delirious from their exertions in front of the huge loudspeakers pumping out miraculous beats and swarming synthesizers. The drugs flowing through Inga’s body made her feel at one with the cosmos, while her dancing partner’s fluid and resourceful moves helped her achieve a mystical state she’d never known anywhere but at a rave. She couldn’t help but feel like a happy clown swimming in ecstacy! The rising sun in the distance cast heavenly rays over the fields and woods where thousands were gathered soulfully communicating with god.
First contact was a chaotic flood of emotion for the men running forth firing their weapons, as well as for the dancers and lovers absorbing the bullets, which never seemed to stop arriving with all supersonic fury and precision. The game was on!
The soldiers of god were intent, per upbringing and training. The jews had taken their homes and land and must leave or die. Some jews would be captured alive and used as pawns to further the mission’s ultimate goals. Ali had never before felt the things he was feeling as he encountered and executed one jew after another. He knew in his heart that god was cheering him on, and was certain that his family, were they to know of the adventure he was experiencing this moment, would be praying for him and offering words of encouragement.
“Run!” Inga heard around her as she stood transfixed by what didn’t seem real. ‘Fanfare For A Lunatic‘ was still pounding in her ears from the loudspeakers as her dancing partner suddenly fell to the ground, his body bucking in beat to the bass and drums mixing with the snap, crackle, pop of rifle fire. “This isn’t real” she said to herself over and over again. “It’s but a dream!” Then she started running alongside her friends when she saw that everyone around her was running and screaming. She didn’t want to lose her friends.
Ali held his phone aloft in left hand, while in his right his rifle continued it’s cries of vengeance, recompense and justice; his phone’s video of the proceedings streaming across the land as proof of his good training and education. Then he sat beneath an olive tree, winded yet energized, and called his family back in the village.
“Mama, oh mama. I killed a jew or two this morn! You should see it! They run like dogs from the dog-catcher and beg for their lives!”
“Ali, what are you saying? Where are you?” his mother responded.
“We have invaded the zionist lair mama! We are taking back our land from the jewish devils! I killed many of them!”
“Oh Ali. Finally! Just be sure not to martyr yourself! Promise me that, son?”
“I’ll be fine mama! Don’t worry and I’ll be home for dinner!” Ali responded, then hung up and chased a pack of jews who were crying, screaming, and running toward their cars and vans.
Just as Inga fired up her car, which was filled with friends, bullets tore through the vehicle, killing all present but for Inga. Her door was pulled open, a hand grasped her hair, and she was dragged from her seat and flung to the ground.
“You have soiled this land jew, and now you shall pay!” Ali screamed as he stabbed and carved flesh to her last breath. He then ran off to join his comrades, while deep in his calculating brain and his still rumbling belly he felt immortal and invincible, just before the jewish bullet ended it all for him there at the rave.
CP Butchvarov 2024