I don’t have any other option. It’s the general’s command, so I obey, even as he is clearly losing control over the situation. If I ever want to return home, I will have to shift into a higher gear and fully commit to my new role, likely with no outside help.
I can’t escape. There’s nowhere to go, no space to move. It’s always hard to function under this intense pressure, but I’m keeping a close tab on my captors’s movements, and when I notice him a drop his vigilance, I reach into his holster and extract his weapon. The gun’s caps lock up, and I’m left scratching a useless trigger. With no other alternative, in desperation I jump on top of him, but he pulls out his knife and is able to slash through my flesh over and over, quickly draining all of the blood from my body.
And barely having entered it at all, I’m deleted from this life.
[Editor’s note: This was initially supposed to be a mini novella, but when I wouldn’t let him call it Qwerty Eye For The Swervy Guy he stopped working on it, threw a tantrum and relegated it to here.]