Bene-Saga
Title: Hate in a Lonely Heart
Genre: Shadowrun
Rating: 15 (not kiddy stuff, this)
Comments: Sandpaper condom & cacti dildo - Harsh
Themes: #4 The Line between love & hate
Author: league_ai
Comments: Shadowrun isn't mine. The characters are original, and this is the story that leads up to the arrival in Paris of a Shadowrunner named Bene.
Summary: Jealousy can make you do some dumb things.
Checkpoint Romeo Victor Niner, 5 kilometers north of Prnjavor, Bosnia Herzegovina
Operation Insurgency, Wehrmacht International Support Force
2nd Army, 97th Cavalry Division, "Magnus Operandi" Division
January 20th 2055, 2351.
It's not an easy thing to define that is jealousy. Bene stood still, the cold night air swiping across his face, blowing what felt like needles into his cheeks. The wind was all-pervasive, reaching into inside Bene. Something in his mind flapped wildly in the wind like a beaten jolly roger, tearing more with each violent gust. Soon enough, nothing would be left of it but a battered flagpole. Around him lay the remains of a skirmish between Bosnian rebels and two tanks which had gotten to the checkpoint early. They'd figured they could take out tanks two at a time, and if it hadn't been for some sharp eyes inside the other tank, Bene knew he would be history. Tears ran down his face, and his blurred eyes scanned the corpses around for his own crew.
The Bosnians knew what they were doing. From outside the interdiction range of the tanks anti-personnel weaponry, they launched anti-tank weapons, a direct hit to the Goblin, the other tank to have arrived at the checkpoint. They then attacked Bene's tank using the Goblin's flaming wreck to cover themselves from interdiction weapons. Eliza and Herman had time to get out, While Bene had managed to dodge death with just first-degree burns to the back. Adrenalin was still pumping through his veins, and he couldn't feel it. It had taken twenty minutes, but the whole raiding party was down. Bosnian freedom fighters were all watering the ground with blood, and Bene was standing over Herman's body. He was alive, probably suffering from shellshock. He'd found no wounds, the kid was no doubt going to live.
And all Bene wanted for him was to die. Jealousy burned through him like a bonfire, licking at the ripped flag that was his sense of morality. What he had thought was nothing but an infatuation on a pretty girl had turned out to be a little more, and Bene had found out the hard way when he walked in on his two officers in romantic embrace. Wasn't anything indecent, just a kiss and they looked so sweet together... The image inflated Bene's brain, the pressure in his skull building. Grunting in frustaration, Bene gripped his head, the cold stell of the side of the gun prssing against the skin on his temples. He kneeled astride of Herman as he groaned, tossed and turned under the effect of shellshock, pressing the gun against the felled officer's skull.
It would be so easy... just pull the trigger, and she would be his.
He wondered why Herman would go and steal her, why he would deny his best friend the right to what he coveted. He wrestled with himself inside his mind, superego versus id, Bene's rationality sat this one out, as the barrel pressed harder and harder against Herman's head, some final shred of morality keeping him from pulling the trigger. His friendship for Herman was a strong one, and yet his primal, alpha-male instincts were telling him to kill the competition in line for the female.
When the two sides of his mind found themsleves locked into a tantalizing stalemate, Bene burst into tears: his mind had taken the only valid option in this case, and he rolled off Herman's body, and lay flat-out on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes. He felt so childish, so wrong, but he didn't care. He coveted, and when he could not have, he found himself unable to force his way to what he was after. Bene couldn't decide whether the tears were for the forever-loss of Eliza as a companion, or because of the pain that loss brought to his ego.
Blubbering like a child, Bene lay there, the shadow of a wrecked wall cast against him by the burning husk of his own tank. Beating the ground, he wanted, but knew he wouldn't have. For a select few now, he knew the fine line between love and hate.
Genre: Shadowrun
Rating: 15 (not kiddy stuff, this)
Comments: Sandpaper condom & cacti dildo - Harsh
Themes: #4 The Line between love & hate
Author: league_ai
Comments: Shadowrun isn't mine. The characters are original, and this is the story that leads up to the arrival in Paris of a Shadowrunner named Bene.
Summary: Jealousy can make you do some dumb things.
Checkpoint Romeo Victor Niner, 5 kilometers north of Prnjavor, Bosnia Herzegovina
Operation Insurgency, Wehrmacht International Support Force
2nd Army, 97th Cavalry Division, "Magnus Operandi" Division
January 20th 2055, 2351.
It's not an easy thing to define that is jealousy. Bene stood still, the cold night air swiping across his face, blowing what felt like needles into his cheeks. The wind was all-pervasive, reaching into inside Bene. Something in his mind flapped wildly in the wind like a beaten jolly roger, tearing more with each violent gust. Soon enough, nothing would be left of it but a battered flagpole. Around him lay the remains of a skirmish between Bosnian rebels and two tanks which had gotten to the checkpoint early. They'd figured they could take out tanks two at a time, and if it hadn't been for some sharp eyes inside the other tank, Bene knew he would be history. Tears ran down his face, and his blurred eyes scanned the corpses around for his own crew.
The Bosnians knew what they were doing. From outside the interdiction range of the tanks anti-personnel weaponry, they launched anti-tank weapons, a direct hit to the Goblin, the other tank to have arrived at the checkpoint. They then attacked Bene's tank using the Goblin's flaming wreck to cover themselves from interdiction weapons. Eliza and Herman had time to get out, While Bene had managed to dodge death with just first-degree burns to the back. Adrenalin was still pumping through his veins, and he couldn't feel it. It had taken twenty minutes, but the whole raiding party was down. Bosnian freedom fighters were all watering the ground with blood, and Bene was standing over Herman's body. He was alive, probably suffering from shellshock. He'd found no wounds, the kid was no doubt going to live.
And all Bene wanted for him was to die. Jealousy burned through him like a bonfire, licking at the ripped flag that was his sense of morality. What he had thought was nothing but an infatuation on a pretty girl had turned out to be a little more, and Bene had found out the hard way when he walked in on his two officers in romantic embrace. Wasn't anything indecent, just a kiss and they looked so sweet together... The image inflated Bene's brain, the pressure in his skull building. Grunting in frustaration, Bene gripped his head, the cold stell of the side of the gun prssing against the skin on his temples. He kneeled astride of Herman as he groaned, tossed and turned under the effect of shellshock, pressing the gun against the felled officer's skull.
It would be so easy... just pull the trigger, and she would be his.
He wondered why Herman would go and steal her, why he would deny his best friend the right to what he coveted. He wrestled with himself inside his mind, superego versus id, Bene's rationality sat this one out, as the barrel pressed harder and harder against Herman's head, some final shred of morality keeping him from pulling the trigger. His friendship for Herman was a strong one, and yet his primal, alpha-male instincts were telling him to kill the competition in line for the female.
When the two sides of his mind found themsleves locked into a tantalizing stalemate, Bene burst into tears: his mind had taken the only valid option in this case, and he rolled off Herman's body, and lay flat-out on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes. He felt so childish, so wrong, but he didn't care. He coveted, and when he could not have, he found himself unable to force his way to what he was after. Bene couldn't decide whether the tears were for the forever-loss of Eliza as a companion, or because of the pain that loss brought to his ego.
Blubbering like a child, Bene lay there, the shadow of a wrecked wall cast against him by the burning husk of his own tank. Beating the ground, he wanted, but knew he wouldn't have. For a select few now, he knew the fine line between love and hate.