Black Heart

Prologue

A hand slowly inserted a bullet into the gun sitting in the other hand. The bullet slid in perfectly, making a click sound as it touched the metal on the inside. The same hand that had loaded the round reached back and slid the bolt of the rifle backwards, then forwards. The rifle was leveled, sight looked down, and the shooter took a breath.

The man next to him crouch-walked over to a window nearby. This man also held a rifle in his hands. But this man was older. He had gray in his black hair, as well as his black-haired beard. Frank O’Connor realized that this man had probably been with The Cause and been involved in The Troubles for a very long time. This man was committed.

The rest of the men in the room were reading assault rifles and hand grenades. They all wore black-colored clothing, with black balaclavas over their faces. They slipped magazines into there pockets, grenades around their belts, and knifes wherever they deemed fit.

Frank looked over to the far right of the room. It was littered with old furniture;
paintings of family members of pass generations, and stolen things from other ops. Two members sat peacefully in chairs, sipping some beer they had put into canteens.

These had been fastened onto their chest belts, making them always within reach for a quick sip of the relaxing liquid. A man, who was the cell’s leader, nodded slightly as the two looked up at him. They stood and quickly grabbed their weapons on the floor. One of their hands slipped as they picked up the AR, and the weapon clattered to the floor.

Some of the others gave a disapproving look at him.

Frank looked out of the almost curtain-filled window at the street below. A lot of the bastards could be out there, but Frank knew he could deal with them. He knew because the Irish Republic Army had a reason to fight, unlike their British counterparts.

Although Northern Ireland maybe under the British rule because it being territory, they had taken it from its rightful owners: The Irish themselves. And for that, the IRA would do anything to get it back. And to get to kick some British ass would be a fun too, Frank thought.

Comments?

I like. Keep going.

Ruski wrote:Prologue

A hand slowly inserted a bullet into the gun sitting in the other hand. The bullet slid in perfectly, making a click sound as it touched the metal on the inside. The same hand that had loaded the round reached back and slid the bolt of the rifle backwards, then forwards. The rifle was leveled, sight looked down, and the shooter took a breath.

The man next to him crouch-walked over to a window nearby. This man also held a rifle in his hands. But this man was older. He had gray in his black hair, as well as his black-haired beard. Frank O’Connor realized that this man had probably been with The Cause and been involved in The Troubles for a very long time. This man was committed.

The rest of the men in the room were reading assault rifles and hand grenades. They all wore black-colored clothing, with black balaclavas over their faces. They slipped magazines into there pockets, grenades around their belts, and knifes wherever they deemed fit.

Frank looked over to the far right of the room. It was littered with old furniture;
paintings of family members of pass generations, and stolen things from other ops. Two members sat peacefully in chairs, sipping some beer they had put into canteens.

These had been fastened onto their chest belts, making them always within reach for a quick sip of the relaxing liquid. A man, who was the cell’s leader, nodded slightly as the two looked up at him. They stood and quickly grabbed their weapons on the floor. One of their hands slipped as they picked up the AR, and the weapon clattered to the floor.

Some of the others gave a disapproving look at him.

Frank looked out of the almost curtain-filled window at the street below. A lot of the bastards could be out there, but Frank knew he could deal with them. He knew because the Irish Republic Army had a reason to fight, unlike their British counterparts.

Although Northern Ireland maybe under the British rule because it being territory, they had taken it from its rightful owners: The Irish themselves. And for that, the IRA would do anything to get it back. And to get to kick some British ass would be a fun too, Frank thought.

To short, Need more explanation about this "IRA" in the second chapter.... and not to mention what the fuck is going on. Its good.

Death...do you NOT have ANY clue as to who the I.R.A. are?

Gold wrote:Death...do you NOT have ANY clue as to who the I.R.A. are?

Only from the words of the story is what I know about them, all I know is that they're a Irish republic army -.-

Theyre the only reason Ireland is free. The greatest guerilla fighters in history...and guess what, they didnt need outside help like the Taliban.

Gold wrote:Theyre the only reason Ireland is free. The greatest guerilla fighters in history...and guess what, they didnt need outside help like the Taliban.

Hmmm I never learned of this, world history doesn't teach shit lol.

World history doesnt see it as important for whatever reason. The I.R.A. were highly organized and extremely efficent.

Gold wrote:World history doesnt see it as important for whatever reason. The I.R.A. were highly organized and extremely efficent.

Hmm ill look them up later.