Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25059656-20161221100832

hi. my pasta was deleted, so could you guys hlep me make it better?

The Commissar was particularly impatient that day. They had risen, and the day’s planning had finished. And before rations could be dispensed, the first order for assault. The commissar had come to him specifically, so he knew it was going to be more important than normal. As always with their “reconnaissance runs”, he was handed a 4x5cm card with coordinates, and a vague clue that would only make sense when he got there. The back of the card was a list of “unregistered required requisitions”. As the commissar slinked away, he noticed something. The Commissar’s eyes were a different colour. They were darker. Maybe it had just been a long time since they met in person. Maybe he was just paranoid.

On the way to the coordinates, he noticed the morning sun. it was as if gold was streaming down from the sky, splashing off the branches. The green grass waved gently, each blade reflecting a different colour, making a mosaic of light. In the grass sat an old man. The operator was startled. How could he have let his guard down so much. The man said one thing “I know what you are going to do. I know you never question. That is why you are special… but for once, doubt. Please.” He couldn’t believe it. This Filth, he thought. This vagrant. Trying to delude him. The compromising asset.

He couldn’t afford to be compromised. The man never saw the club coming. He would be put out until after his operation, then recovered and arrested under a charge to be figured out later. Pressing onward, he finally saw his mark. And froze in terror. The mark was a camp. An allied camp. He had to do what he was told.

He closed into the oil tank. He had to do what he was told.

He planted the charges. He had to do what he was told.

He burgled the files from old friends. He had to do what he was told.

He backed out the camp as he entered. He had to do what he was told.

He destroyed the beautiful day he held so dear. The only beauty he had ever known.

He had to do what he was told. He murdered everyone in the camp in an instant.

He had to do what he was told.

The day hardy looked like one anymore. Ash filled the sky, blotting out the sun. Fires piled high, giving the plain an ethereal glow. He did this. He had to do as he were told. The death of the camp was blamed on the enemy. The counter charge gave the commissar a promotion. He always in the back of his mind knew that he trusted the wrong man. But he had to do as he was told. More died. More valour was stolen for the commissar. But he had to do what he was told.

  