Title:           WWI Anon [Ultra Short, RGRE]
Author:          Juggy
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/ackprG5F
First Edit:      Friday 16th of September 2016 12:23:18 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Tuesday 24th of January 2017 03:18:00 AM CDT

>”Gas! It’s gas!”
>A shout rings out across the line. A shout of mortal fear.
>The young boy next to you, no more than sixteen, starts shivering in fear. With a quivering voice and a shaking hand he clutches a small cross necklace and prays.
>”Oh god, oh god! Please, god! Not today, please!”
>You yourself feel nothing. Why bother? Why spend your last moments terrified?
>As the cloud of green-yellow gas begins to slowly move down the trench, following the wind, men begin to make a decision.
>Die by gas, or die by machine gun.
>Hundreds of men, from the trenches behind you and the ones in yours run straight towards the german line, barely a hundred meters away.
>No use in running backward; the gas cloud was wide and thick. The german artillerymen must’ve shot a couple canisters behind.
>The wailing of the private next to you steadily increases as the gas draws closer and closer to your spots in the trench.
>”Mother! Mother! Why didn’t I stay home!? Why did I have’ta follow Bobby into this fucking war?!”
>With a slightly shaking hand, you grab his hand still holding tightly onto his cross.
>The gas was nearly upon you now. Death wouldn’t be immediate- only painful. It would just dissolve your lungs.
“It’s gonna be alright, boy. When we go, just know that it’s not over. We’a gonna go to heaven, boy. It’s alright.”
>It surrounds you. It hurts so bad. You fall down next to the child, still clutching his hand.
>As he begins to choke and wheeze, he looks into your eyes.
>A brief understanding comes to him as he stares at you, and he faintly smiles in his last moment. Soon enough, he dazes off. His body lands next to you.
>You stare up at the sky.
>Darkness.
 
>You wake up.
>Holy shit, that was kind of epic.
>Who knew drinking two bottles of vodka before reading ‘All Quiet on the Western Front’ would give you dreams like that.
>What a way to start to the day.
 
>Meanwhile;
>*BLARGGHHHFFF*
>Luna pukes onto the floor while crying.
>”What type of colt..”
>She vomits again.
>”Would be forced to go through that!?”