Changes

-POV Luke-

listen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gIuotFZnBtk

It has been three weeks since your best friends were killed in a mission. And it has been two hours since you had bombed the base of the Order of the wing.

You had personally overseen the missile launch and ensured that only one man escaped the attack. It was easy, sending in a squad to capture the changeling known as Johnathon. You had received covert messages from another agent in the order, named Crescent Moon,that Johnathon was the one who killed them.

And here you were now, standing in front of him. He was in good condition, you had ordered that he not be harmed. Celestia had ordered that he was to be locked away until his trial....What did she know? Who was she to forbid you from making things right. 'Luke, I know you are hurting right now, but we cannot kill this man. One day you will understand that I am right. You cannot hold onto anger, it only breeds more anger.' .......Forget her! You would make things right.

"You are their friend Luke, yes?" Said Johnathon.

".....Yes." You said. There were tears in your eyes as you looked at this disgusting man.

"And I can't imagine that you're here for a game of baseball." he said, pointing to the wooden bat you now held your hands.

"Good guess." You replied.

"You know," he said, sitting on his cot in his cell, "They squealed when I killed them. They squealed like two stuck pigs."

And with those words you were pushed over the edge. You struck him on jaw, knocking him to the ground. You swung over and over again, smashing his ribs and face. After a couple of minutes you stopped, looking at your work. He was choking on his own blood and broken teeth.

"Say hi to my friends for me." You said, reaching for your gun, then deciding better on it and putting it back in your pocket.

"What, you too chicken shit to shoot me?" coughed out Johnathon as he lay on the ground.

"Come with me." You said as you lifted this broken man up from the ground, putting his arm over your shoulders. You walked out of the cell and into the elevator. Once inside, you sat him on the floor and pressed the top-floor key. You sat down next to the bloody changeling, not caring about sitting in his pool of blood.

The ride was mostly quiet.

"Do you know what bravery is, Luke?" Said Johnathon, breaking the silence of the confined elevator.

"How would you know?" You asked. Johnathon laughed, the laughing turned into coughing then subsided.

"Bravery isn't being able to kill a man. No, no, I know that now." Said the broken changeling. "Bravery is about knowing when not to kill a man. Bravery does not come with power Lucas. They are independant"

You remained silent as Johnathon continued.

"Killing me won't make you feel better, but if you feel it is what you must do then do it. I've experienced enough pain to understand what you are going through."

You were still quiet. The ding of the floor monitor told you to get up and bring Johnathon with you.

You walked out onto the roof of the building, it was cold outside and the wind stung your face. You helped Johnathon over to the edge of the roof, setting a box for him to sit on. His back was facing the edge and his broken face was staring into yours. Johnathon, though his face was broken, had a look and air that said he was ready as he stared straight ahead, past you.

The elevator came up behind you, this time carrying several armed guards.

"FREEZE!! DON'T MOVE!!" They yelled. Obviously they found the empty cell....... Celestia would never understand.

You brought the bat over your head, preparing for the swing.

"STOP!!!" they yelled.

Down comes the bat, out comes the bullets.

listen : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-jcE8kqK9k

You hit Johnathon straight on the head, causing him to fall back off the roof. The bullets hit you suddenly, the pain is intense and you cry out, falling forward. You and Johnathon fall together, blood trailing just behind you. You look at Johnathon to see his blank stare, his glazed over eyes. He died first, at least.

The fall was long, or at least it seemed that way. It was probably only a minute. You looked at the shocked expressions of the pedestrians below you. They were running away, trying to evade you. You were cold, be it from wind or from blood loss or from your heart you weren't sure.

You lived well, though you probably won't be remembered that way. But that doesn't matter any more. None of that matters any more. There was a chariot on the ground and you could see little gargoyles on the roof of it. They looked like little demons who were rushing their way up to devour you and the poor fool next to you.

Nothing mattered as the ground hurried to meet you. Nothing mattered. Nothing.