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David Fletcher Dialectical Journal

Decent Essays

The ride towards the abandoned warehouse was deafening and harsh. There were countless military trucks holding soldiers from all across the country, all of them fighting for a prize that seemed too perfect to be true. Fletcher was in Unit 1, the highest ranking soldiers of them all. There were already tons of soldiers, although it seemed emptier than usual. No one ever spoke during the transportation because they were either grieving over the absence of their family or thinking about the things they could do with their prize.

Fletcher, a 32 year old, had recently received a letter from the government drafting him into an elite military unit. Fletcher was a lean, tall young man. He had dirty blonde hair with hazel eyes. Fletcher had a moderate …show more content…

“The prize was used as bait so that soldiers would be interested in fighting for the government. All of the commotion is so foolish. If anything, we’re all heading towards a death trap!”

“Quiet down,” Fletcher scolded. “I was skeptical about the prize from the beginning, but I was willing to take the chance if it meant supporting my family. This is all unfair. They shouldn’t be able to do this to us.”

The mission was soon to begin. Fletcher and Marcel, along with the rest of their Unit were to breach through the main entrance, while the other Units would go through the sides of the warehouse and through the back. All leaders of each Unit were given some sort of intercom so that they could communicate. Fletcher had heard one of the commanders announce that they were ready and another voice responded, “Begin.” The leader put his intercom away and pulled a breaching device from its cartridge. Without being said, they all backed up as he attached the device to the doorway. Without hesitation, he detonated the charge. BOOM! Debris and dust flew everywhere. And just like that, they were …show more content…

Some of the bullets managed to hit some of the barrels which caused a chain reaction of explosions. Soldiers everywhere were returning fire while other gasping for help. Fletcher scanned around the room for Marcel. He saw him lying behind a brick wall as cover. He seemed to be severely injured as his hand, tainted with blood, covered of what seemed to be several bullet holes. Fletcher couldn’t believe what was happening. There were soldiers lying lifeless here and there. It was complete chaos. Fletcher knew he had been fooled. He knew that secretly there was no prize. He knew that he had to

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