Eddsworld Drabbles n Oneshots

Love and War

((Okay, I'm just going to say from now that I do not like war, I'm not romanticizing it, and in no way am I condoning the acts and thoughts of the characters in this story. If the topics of war and death make you uncomfortable, please don't read this. This story is just angst))

The soldier sat on the roof of the black building, quietly watching...waiting.
What was he waiting for, you ask?
Paul was waiting for the first bullet to be hurdled through the air.
For the first silhouette of a man to pop up from behind the chimney of one of the other black buildings.
He was waiting for a sign of any human life other than his own.
Usually, when people were trying to make sure they weren't alone, they were looking out for themselves.
Like when you turn around to watch your back in a dark alleyway, or when you look up into the starry night sky and wonder if someone else out there shared the same thoughts and feelings as you.
But Paul wasn't doing this for himself. He was doing this for the good of the army.
Red Leader heard news of some fat-cat politician coming to London to discuss how to defeat the Red Army, and he sent Red Soldiers to the post in the area specifically to take out the politician, so they could finally carry on with their plans of invading England.
Paul didn't want to be friends with whatever life form he found here tonight. He wanted to destroy it.
The soldier made sure his riffle was fully loaded, and looked around in the dark once more to see if anyone was around.
The armada was slowly but surely taking what was theirs.
First they got Norway, then Sweden and Finland, then Iceland, Denmark, and even Turkey.
Posts were set up all over Europe, and there were even some posts in North America.
Now all they needed to do was take down England.
Paul was in love with war. He had served in the Red Army since it was just an underground business, and on the day he joined he made a vow that he would be loyal, and in return the Red Army would give him the world.
He was going to get the world.
Suddenly, a black car pulled up just outside the building that Paul was on.
The brunette's breathing hitched, and he hid behind the chimney, peeking out from behind it to watch the events unfold.
First, an old man rolled down the window of drivers seat and peeked out. He was bald except for the white tufts of hair on the side of his head.
Next, the passenger seat opened and out came a buff man in a black suit, set on opening the back door of the car.
When he did, two more men in black suits came out of the car, followed by a man in a blue suit, whom was helped out of the car.
The politician.
Paul cocked his gun and aimed for the head of one of the men in black.
BANG.
The man in black hit the ground.
The two others pulled out their guns, and aimed from where the bullet came from as the politician scrambled towards the car.
Paul shot one man in the leg, and the other in the chest. One fell down and the other kept faltered, but kept shooting, so he aimed for his head and shot him again.
All three of the men in black were on the ground.
The politician pulled on the car door, and Paul shot again, but missed. The politician hastily climbed into the back seat and the driver started to floor it out of there.
All of a sudden, a gunshot came from somewhere other than Paul's riffle.
The driver was out. Now he had a chance.
With about 3 bullets and good aim, Paul was able to take out the politician.
He let our a small victory cry that only he could hear.
The soldier's thoughts were set back into motion when another gunshot went off and hit the front of the building he was standing on.
That's right! There was another sniper!
Paul frowned and hid behind the chimney again. He could have sworn that the other sniper was on his side. And now they were shooting at him?
He looked around for any hint of where the other person could be, scanning each building he could see carefully.
That's when, just barely, he made out the shape of a man fidling with his gun on the roof of the building opposite of his.
A smirk spread across his face and he aimed, locked on the target, and pulled the trigger.
Fortunately for the man on the other side, the bullet missed him.
From Paul's point of view, the person stood up and started flailing around.
"What in the world is he trying to say...?" Paul muttered to himself under his breath.
Whatever the other soldier was trying to say was irrelevant now, because Paul had already aimed and pulled the trigger again.
This time, the bullet hit just where he wanted it to hit, and the other sniper went still.
A cry was heard as the man was shot, and as he stumbled off the top of the roof.
Victory over the kill didn't last long, as Paul started to feel a deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, like something wasn't right.
"Shit...shit, shit, shit!"
Just mere moments ago the other sniper was alive. He was alive, which meant he had family, and friends. Dreams and aspirations. Thoughts and feelings.
And Paul had ended all of those things that had collected over the years and made the sniper who he was today.
The sniper's life probably had some worth, if not to Paul, then to other people. But what was worth? Could you hold it? Could you kill it?
He climbed down from the building, and out of morbid curiosity of who's life he had just ended, he started running towards the other sniper. Hell, he didn't even know the guy, but yet he felt so guilty.
By the time he reached the resting place of the other man, Paul was panting, and he felt dizzy.
The man had landed face first in the mud. What a horrible way to go.
His blue uniform was stained with a mixture of dirty water and his own blood.
Paul gulped and with a shaky hand, he turned the body over to see the sniper's face.
His eyes widened as he looked into the face of his lover.