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Lee Fudge

United States

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War Stories: Chapter One

December 4, 2018

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Apparently, the Taultics were invading soon. Charles didn’t know if this was true or not, but being his home being close to the Westland-Taultic border, it worried him. Then again, why would the Taultics want a small town like Frontiére? It didn’t seem like the most strategic location to take during an invasion.

The Frontiére Citizen Guard was worried. They had to worry, the protection of the town was there top priority. They probably would’ve tried to fight the entire army of the Taultic Empire, if it was how they had to save the town.

Captain Clement, the head of the citizen guard, frequently patrolled the area himself, despite his age. Charles wished he would stop, because Clement often found something wrong with how the people were “defending” the town. 

Clement had found a mistake made by Charles.

”Do you realize,” Clement began, like all the other times he did,”That you left a lit latern on your windowsill, Mr. Bisset?”

“Well, I do now,” Charles said. He blew it out, and began to walk, but the Captain had more complaints. 

“The laterns not the main issue Mr. Bisset,” Clement said.

Charles groaned, and turned around. “What is this ‘main issue’, then Captain Clement?”

”Your window is open,” Clement said, pointed a gloved hand towards said window.

”Yes,” Charles said,”The latern couldn’t be on the windowsill if the window was closed.”

”Indeed,” Clement was silent for a second, then yelled,”But that’s not the point Mr. Bisset!”

”What is the point then?”

”If your window is open, the inside of your house is in the line of sight of the enemy! Anyone in your house could be shot, with this window open!”

”But, and hear me out, Captain Clement, there is no enemy,” Charles explained, for the tenth time this week,”There is no to shoot anyone in my house.”

”Listen, Mr. Bisset,” Clement said, beginning his argument,”You have a little sister, correct?”

Charles couldn’t believe this. Clement was playing this game where he tried to guilt you into doing what he wanted you to do by using the thing, or person, you love most. It always worked. Charles closed the window.

“Speaking of which,” Clement said,”Where is little Sophie?”

”She went to go play with her friends,” Charles answered,”Don’t worry, mom’s with her.”

”Very good,” Clement twirled his moustache,”Well, I must be off. Have a safe day, Mr. Bisset.”

The two went there separate ways. Charles knew Captain Clement didn’t mean any harm when he complained. He complained because he cared about the safety of Frontiére, and, most of the time, Clement was correct when seeing errors in defense. 

Charles was on the way work, when he suddenly heard a loud bang. Then another. Then another.

Charles stopped walking in absolute horror. Those were gunshots. And they coming from the square. 

That’s where Sophie was playing.
 

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