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    Killing Regret
    Killing Regret
    Killing Regret
    Ebook55 pages47 minutes

    Killing Regret

    By John Fielden

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A short love story for men. Killing Regret is a descriptive, soul-revealing tale of an apocalyptic life, layered with gruesome death and unresolved love.

    Author's Notes: "This book is a cherished surprise. I just finished my first novel, "Young Flemingway", and this book came to me as a flood. Once I started writing I couldn't stop. I had no idea where the story was going or the length.

    At one point I was being bombarded by the term "short story". It was everywhere; TV, radio, newspaper. I had never given a thought before about writing a short story, but this was the one. Instead of dragging out the book with one survival scenario to another, I decide to make the story short but gripping; letting the reader to jump into the story and experience the emotions from the protagonist. And his misguided morals.

    I hope you enjoy the story as much as I did in writing it. But now I must write another story that is not so "heavy" to balance out my life." - John Fielden

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJohn Fielden
    Release dateOct 11, 2012
    ISBN9780984437986
    Killing Regret

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      Book preview

      Killing Regret - John Fielden

      Killing Regret

      a short love story for men

      john.fielden

      Smashwords Edition

      MY PLANET PRESS

      HONOLULU

      Contents

      One

      Two

      Three

      Four

      Five

      Six

      Seven

      Eight

      Copyright © 2012 by My Planet Press, Honolulu, HI 96816

      All Rights Reserved.

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other persons. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Except as permitted under the United States Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, or stored in a data base or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

      This book is a work of fiction. Name, characters and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      ISBN 10: 0-9844379-8-3

      ISBN 13: 978-0-9844379-8-6

      Follow the author: http://www.facebook.com/jwfielden

      Follow us: http://www.facebook.com/myplanetpress

      Cover Design: http://myplanetpress.com

      R1011 2200

      for my sons

      (1)

      I hate war. I hate the destruction of war. I hate the insanity. I hate the complete disregard for human life. I hate the senseless spilt of blood and guts. I hate the annihilation of spirit that war erodes. There is only one thing that I hate more than war. And that is peace.

      War is a forced education. It teaches you something every day. If you don’t learn what is taught, what is thrown at you on a moments notice, you die. War keeps you alert, ready. You become fit, you become smart, you become quick. There is no second chance.

      Not like peace. Peace offers you many opportunities for redemption. But peace makes you fat. Fat and lazy and listless and on the pretenses of a wonderful life, peace awards you a slow, agonizing death.

      Without war, there is no peace. But to live without war, is not in our nature. We, as human beings, thrive on the lust for blood. Always have. Always will.

      War has taught me to kill. I have to kill. But I do love the exhilaration it brings to my otherwise empty life. I love the adrenalin drive as my enemy’s blood weeps through my fingers. It’s warm. Thick. And dark. It’s life draining. Or life giving.

      I check the shadows behind once more. Listening for a familiar snap or crack of a shoe stepping and breaking the powdered gravel. A noise that will quicken my breath and make me jump. To seek protection. Or attack.

      Nothing. It’s quiet. I’m safe. For now.

      I lean my head back against the remains of a rubber tire on a burnt black car. A little solitude. A hard cushion. But it will keep my head straight, in case I have to move fast.

      Damn peace. If it weren’t for the insistence of those peacekeepers, those…doves, I would be living a normal life. Work, children, sports, having a cold beer at the bar. But no. Those damn peace-mongers, they wanted an end to all wars, and with the cowering decisions made by governments, they declared peace.

      Sure, it was fine at first. Then the people got fat. And lazy. And plenty. More time was spent on saving lives instead of letting them die. And, where there was one, now there were five. And five more. There was no war to filter life. The old, the sick, the non-survivors.

      We all shall live! We all want to live! It is our right!

      But peace kills. It suffocates you with an overwhelming number of flesh and blood, and not enough

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