I must have closed my eyes and opened a door. Damn it; I should have more control over this. Immediately I am in the middle of a battlefield, Zeragilians citizens are frantically trying to get to safety, the Bayair warriors are taking no time slaughtering anything standing in their way.
They are attacking the wrong individuals; it is the high council members they need to go after. Not the little ones. They do not know how to defend themselves.
The alarm system is going off to tell everyone to seek shelter. If the alarm had gone off a minute ago, things would have been different. Now all they are doing is leading the warriors to where everyone is heading.
If I make a white bubble blast, everyone in the location will parish. Standing there like a bloody buffoon is not helping much other. Think …
A warrior roughly pushed me into a brick wall. The air was knocked out of my lungs; I was still on my feet with the support of the structure behind me. Dazed by the impact, she went for the kill, rotation my body to the left I barely avoided the dagger that missed its mark. She positions herself for another strike; my hand touched her limb … “Die” came out of my mouth.
I do not get it! She evaporated rate in front of my eyes. Different size energy bubbles floated where she once stood. My one thought had killed her … ‘Am I really a weapon? Does this make me a murder? Serial killer?’ I had no time to stay in my mental state of shock; a little girl was being dragged by her hair, desperately she struggled to get free.
Over and over again, I placed my spiritual body in a situation of danger to protect the little people. I am not proud of my new found action; it is allowing the few people to survive one more day.
I lost count of how many warriors faded out of existence, but I know more the ten individuals got away to safety. An old life popped in my mind as my last kill was made.
World War two, I was a little Jewish girl. I was not the only one running from the soldiers. I was a petite little 6-year-old girl, hiding in a shallow hole. I have no idea how many other children were behind me, at least three others. I could hear footsteps nearing the tunnel; I told the others to be quiet.
Hot tears of fear rolled down my face. A head blocked the entrance; then it was gone. The entrance was only large enough for a small child to wiggle into, not big enough for an adult. I was hoping he had not seen me. Then there was a gun entering the hole. Pop-pop pop, then I was dead.