NationStates Jolt Archive


Revolution, Stage Three (A short story)

Leetspeakers
02-07-2005, 20:30
WARNING! This story contains graphic violence and discreation is advised.
This is the story a youngman who joined a revolution whose intentions were to free the people from explotiation and manipulation by the State and the powerful aristocracy. He soon becomes an ideologue and will make his vision a reality, by any means neccessary. He becomes the oppressor and the State, but fails to see what he has done. It will be in five parts, but will not be posted according to order.

Revolution, Stage Three: The Great Expansion

The revolution was in its twelfth week. The militias have taken nearly all of the east and were quickly advancing to the west. The main objectives were to destroy the political infrastructure entirely and then put our own in operation in record time before the NGR, the National Guard of the Republic could mobilize more forces. The idea was that it would be impossible to re-design the current government and that it was far easier to design a new one. The provinces to the north had crumbled because they were easy to isoloate and then raid them soon afterward. I had been given command of the DSM, the Democratic Social Militia, wich was a branch of the Revolutionary Alliance. It numbered five thousand strong and every soldier was armed to the teeth and was taught that to die for equality was to truly live.
This was not a war about equality only, it was about much more. It was about liberty and, above all, freedom, that most precious of ideals. For too long the people have suffered and the princes have ignored their pain, for too long they the voice of the people has been put secondary to the interests of the Aseembly, which was comprised of only well-fed aristocrats. For too long they have moaned and have only been given scorn. I gave them arms and with them shall they gain their freedom. For revolution is delivered best when it is from the barrel of a pistol. The blood spilled today will have been done justly and it will not end until every prince has suffered a thousand fold what the people have felt. When this monumental task is accomplished, there will be liberty and peace throughout the vast lands of the continent.
I was in a vehicle next to a rank of militiamen, they were hungry but the fire in their eyes was a sign to me that their will was not, that they were ready to march ten thousand miles more if it meant their chains would be broken today. Most of the militiamen were peasants from the country side, citizens who had been exploited by the extravegancies of the metropolitans. That is were we were going, to the capital of one of the largest provinces. It was comprised of mostly bankers and other ne-er do-well aristocrats. Even though there were not many bureaucrats, a handful of city council members at most, seeing them fall from their paradise would be satisfaction enough.
In lines, which seemed to go on for miles and for miles, were prisoners we had acquired from previous campaigns. There were at least thirthen hundred of them, all of them ragged. They were mainly wealthy citizens, wait no they are not worthy of that designation, they were vermin who were now the dregs of society as we once were. Pardon me, another error. We were never the dregs of society, we were its backbone! These vermin often tried to bribe us so that we would let them escape, how low can they be? Do they not realize that it is not about money, but abotu retribution? Their money was useless, it was only good to wipe your arse, so, naturally, we rejected their pitiful offers. They were to be sent to the camps in the south. They resembled plantations, but prisoners only lasted a month or so before exhaustion killed them, how week they are.
We did not send children to the plantations though, what use could they possibly serve? They were rounded up and shot promptly in the head before they could wail and, if they were pathetic enough, beg for our bittersweet mercy. Sometimes I allowed the new recruits to do it, but they are so filled wit anger that they beat them with chains and shards of metal rather than shoot them as I ordered. I preferred that they were efficient rather than crude, though it was amusing. It was like placing rats in a sack and then beating it against a hard surface. O, the noises they made, it so humored me. Often times the bullet did not kill them so it was neccessary to give them a jab with your bayonet. The older ones resisted while the younger ones crawled to the nearest corner covering their faces. All you had to do was push it forcefully through their thin hands. The elderly were the same case, but they did not resist as much. It was easy to use their senility as an advantage. A bullet to the head would suffice. The remainder of the prisoners would work, helping the cause of freedom that they so detested. Food would be a luxury to them as it was to us. Their rations would be the table scraps of the militia, and they should be grateful to even receive such a generous amount! Their possessions would be sold to merchants in neighboring nations in exchange for arms. They would be given a tunic and nothing more. They would sleep on the earth in chains, the pigs were of higher status than they.
Finally, we reached the reached the city, I told them to disperse to different sectors and secure key buildings. I, along with ten other men, went to search for supplies in the massive homes of the aristocrats. I chose one that was of exceptional quality. Clearly this was a palace. I told one of the soldiers to go to the door and secure the ground floor. Upon reaching the door, a shot was fired and he fell down dead. A pool of blood soon covered the entryway. When I went inside I saw a woman with a shotgun and two small children under a large wooden desk. She rushed at me, but rather than shoot her I shot one of her children. The child seemed to be about four years old and the others filled with glee as the mother immediately wne to child, shrieking in horror.I then fired into her back several times and she fell down. Then my group made its way to the pantry to find food. Revolution is bloody, but you never see it until the end, thus it is in retrospect. It is all for the cause of freedom from the oppressor.
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