A short story

An emaciated young girl, wearing ragged, filthy clothes, scurried quickly between the shadows, darting from place to place, eyes constantly alert. She was hungry. So hungry she was prepared to risk her life to find food. Not only for herself, but for her little brother too. Mum and Dad had perished months ago. Dead from starvation and cold. Most of her friends had gone the same way, but she had survived. She had survived because she was prepared to do whatever it took to endure. That’s what she had learned in her twelve short years of life. You had to be tough. Adapt or die. She clutched the silver crucifix dangling from her neck and kissed it for luck. She may have lost everything but she still believed. No one could take that away. Ahead of her, perhaps fifty yards or so, was her target. A small, uncontaminated pond where wildlife thrived. Only frogs, small fish, grubs and the like, pitiful really, but enough protein to feed her and her brother for another day. 

What made her plight so perilous was the hench: huge, muscular soldiers, armed to the teeth, ready to kill anything and everything, that were patrolling all around the area. Hench was just a local nickname for them, of course. It was once a humorous word, back in the days when they were prosperous and free, but not any longer. Now it denoted an invading army. A pernicious, unassailable, force that had overrun their towns and cities, reducing them to rubble and killing every man, woman and child as though they were a stain to be cleaned from the face of the earth. Once they were a rich civilisation, once they were opulent, with lavish goods, expensive lifestyles and extravagant homes. Once. Now a mouthful of worms was luxury. The hench had hit her people hard and fast. Overthrown their defences with ruthless, cunning and inhumane indifference to anything living. Amelie didn’t fully understand the politics of it all, only that the hench wanted to eliminate her and everyone like her without mercy.

There it was, at last. Perhaps ten yards ahead. Tonight’s meal. She scanned the skies, always mindful, always cautious. She checked the remnants of the tall buildings around, looking for snipers on rooftops and in open windows. When she was completely certain she was safe, she took a hesitant, wary step into the night air. It was then that she saw him. A hench, five metres northeast of her. He was seated on a rocky ledge, overlooking the pond, his face in shadow. So concealed was he that it took a huge amount of focus and concentration to discern him in the evening twilight. But she had not survived this long without the keen eyesight of a good hunter. He hadn’t moved. With luck, he hadn’t heard her. Slowly, cautiously, deftly, she retreated back into the gloom. 

‘Take one more step and I’ll shoot you,’ the hench said menacingly.

Amelie froze. 

‘You’re in my sights. Run and you’re dead.’

Amelie considered her options. She may just be able to dive into the rocky cover to her right, but with night-vision, he’d pick her off easily. She heard a gun click. She froze. Death was only seconds away. 

Nothing happened.

‘What are you waiting for?’ she said nervously. 

‘All in good time. I’m enjoying watching you quiver. How old are you? Twelve? Thirteen?’

Amelie said nothing. She started shivering with fear. 

‘You’re so scrawny, it’s a pity to waste a bullet on you. You’re like rats. All of you. Dirty, stinking rats. Death is too good for you.’

Amelie thought of poor Sami waiting for her back in their shelter. He wouldn’t know why she didn’t come home. He’d have no one to look after him. He was only five years old. Just a baby really. 

‘Look at you. You’re pathetic.’

Amelie tried to get a good look at her killer. She turned her head slightly, but she couldn’t make out a face, just a huge, hulking figure bathed in shadow. Somehow, the inevitability of her own death brought a feeling of calm. Perhaps it was knowing all her struggles were soon going to be over. Flashes of panic about Sami dissipated and her mood became centred and certain. 

‘A huge muscular figure such as you, pointing a high-powered rifle at a scared child, and you call me pathetic?’ 

‘Shut up, bitch. Any last words?’

Amelie felt calm and composed in the face of the monstrous hench. ‘None I want you to hear. I only hope my little brother will be okay.’

The hench snorted with derision. ‘Don’t worry. Your little rat brother will be dead soon too. Then you can spend all of eternity with each other.’

‘I’m sure we will. I know I’m going to a better place. I’ll see him there. One day.’

‘I’ll be only too glad to make your wishes come true.’ The hench smiled and cocked his rifle. He was bored of talking to his prey now. Time to get it over with.

Amelie closed her eyes and clasped her hand tightly around her crucifix. ‘Lord, may you grant love, peace, and protection to my little brother Sami. Please forgive me my sins, and take my soul into your loving embrace.’

Amelie expected the shot to come instantly, but it did not. Instead, the hench was angry.

‘Your prayers are useless girl. Your God can’t save you now. What good will He do you when you’re faced with an ak-47?’

‘I feel sorry for you, hench. Full of violence and hate. Poisoned by your own murderous thoughts. You do not know the love God can bring.’

‘Do not speak to me of God. It is a pure invention of your mind.’

‘Perhaps. But God gives me strength to endure my struggles in this world and the certainty that I’ll be with Him in the next.’

‘Pitiful fairy stories. You are weak. Only the strong survive. This is why you are defeated.’

‘This is not weakness. This is strength. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid to die. Go ahead. Do the only thing you are good at. Killing. I have the power of my Lord with me.’

Amelie fell to her knees. Waiting for death. But it did not come, for now the hench was furious. Furious that this small, frail child did not tremble before him, but rather was serene and full of love in the face of death. 

‘Why do you not fear me, little girl? I can crush you with barely a thought. And when I’ve killed you, I’ll slaughter the rest of your family. I’ll burn down your homes and wipe your cities from the face of the Earth.’ 

‘Yes, you can do all of that, but you cannot take our hearts. You cannot destroy our love. That is indestructible.’

‘Let’s see how powerful your love is when you’re screaming in pain.’

‘Pain is transient. Love is eternal. This is something you cannot understand because all you know is hatred. Soon, you will be destroyed in the fires of your own sickness.’

‘Don’t make me laugh, girl. We have conquered these lands. You are defeated. The only sickness I see is in your wretched, skinny corpse.’

‘My body is frail, yes. But my spirit is stronger than yours. I can see your demise, hench. Your end is coming.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Our army is victorious.’

‘And yet, I’ve seen you hesitate to kill me three times now. Noticed the barrel of your gun shaking. Heard the falter in your voice. Hatred is consuming you. How many nights do you wake up screaming, hench? How often do your hands shake? How often do you sweat and perspire from fear?’

The shadow was silent. The hench did not speak. Amelie continued.

‘Every writer, thinker, philosopher, and poet from Homer to Heidegger has said the same thing: love is an all-powerful force that shapes destinies and moulds all our lives in every way. Love is the only way to lead a true, purposeful life. Love is the core of every religion. Without love, human beings are consumed by sickness, fear, malice, hate, and anger. This is why I know you are sick. It’s why I know there is a bitterness in your heart. It’s why I know you will perish in the fires of your own making.’

Still, the hench did not speak.

‘You can shoot me, torture me, kill me, but you cannot take the love I have for the one true God. That transcends even death. I pity you, hench. To have never known the love I’ve known. To have never felt the joy I’ve felt. What a truly sad and pitiful life you’ve led. Mighty warrior. Scared child. Scared warrior. Mighty child. Which is which?’

Hidden in the veil of shadows, the hench wept. The words the girl had spoken had penetrated his tough armour, ripped through his defences and pierced his heart. She had been right. He had stalled and faltered about killing her. He was sick of the hate, tired of the killing, weary of the bloodshed. And yes, every night his victims came back to haunt him, their screams like ghosts and demons torturing his soul. He could do it no more. He stood up, wiped the tears from his eyes and stepped out of the shadows to face the little child who had reduced him to tears. 

Except, there was no girl there. She had vanished into thin air. It was impossible. There was no way she could have gotten out of the clearing without him detecting her. He was too good a soldier for that. He looked all around him, searched every nook and lifted every stone, but nothing. Not even a footprint. She was gone. At that moment, a single shaft of moonlight broke through the clouds and illuminated the very spot she had been standing on. Instinctively, he went to it. As the light cascaded down his face, he became filled with a euphoric feeling of love and joy. It was as though all his hatred and anger had been wiped from him in an instant. He fell to his knees and wept, only this time, his tears were of happiness. As he turned to leave, a flash of light caught his eye from the clearing. He stooped his hulking frame to the floor and picked up a delicate chain, with a tiny silver crucifix dangling from it.