Escalation

"Order acquired. Activating warheads..."

"Warheads secured. Waiting for authorization...."

"Fire them."

The two operators looked at each other, smiling with sadness and possibly relief.

"Copy, guess this is farewell then. Godspeed, and god bless America."

Both operators turned the keys, the sirens blared off. As the countdown started, the shape of a long tube ascending out of the huge silo was well between their lines of sight. Despite the world about to end in some 30 minutes, he had a lot to think about in his mind. He started off his 'Thoughts Bucket-list' with family. Nice holidays, warm houses. Yeah, it was unoriginal for his last thoughts to be family themed and all that soft warm stuff, but it was worth it to use his time on the important vital memories. Could it have been a blessing for him and everyone on this planet to die? He most definitely is sure of the fact he will never find out.

Was that water in his eyes? He quickly closed his viewing ports by instinct. Even if everything changes, some things never change. Ever.

--24, 23, 22

"ICBMs are fully operational. All systems are working as intended."

"Comrade Gorbachev, we have activated the nukes. Waiting for authorization."

"I give you authorization. Farewell comrades."

"Farewell Mr. Gorbachev! Long live the Soviet Union!"

The Soviet operators turned the keys, sighing to themselves and possibly mumbling prayers. They kept to themselves in their final moments. That was a shame. This was all a big shame.

One of the American operators crossed his heart and looked up at the ceiling. The numbered countdown still blaring in the background as he closed his eyes and forgot what was happening. Perhaps this was a dream.

--15, 14, 13

No. He thought. It felt as if time had stopped just for him. This wasn't the end. Fate exists. He believed in god. God wouldn't abandon him in his moment of need. He will escape. He will survive the bombs. Some way. He will be alive. He will escape the nuclear apocalypse that would plague the world. That being his fault, as HE pushes the button. HE kills every living organism, big or small, on this planet. He always wanted to be special and unique, maybe do something nobody has ever achieved. Maybe this is what fate thought when he wanted to do something nobody has ever done in the history of mankind. Kill every life form on a planet without wasting a pinch of energy. By poetically pushing the big red button that lay shining in front of his eyes. It was his fault. Who cares if the war was already happening before hand? Everyone dying lay in his cold bloody hands. He could hear everyone saying it. Chanting it over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. All his fault. All your fault. All his fault. All your fault. All his fault. All your fault. All his fault. All your fault. All his fault. All your fault. All his fault. All your fault. All his fault. All your fault. All his fault. All your fault. All his fault. All your fault. All his fault. All your fault. All his fault. All your fault.
--STOP! All his fault. All your fault. --STOP All his fault. All your fault. --stop... please~.... All his fault. All your fault.

One--