
10. Two gunslingers walked out in the street and one said, "I don't wanna fight no more", and the other gunslinger thought about it and said, "Yeah, what are we fighting for?
It was like a job for Snake. One evening a week he went to the killing field to get some extra money. He’d kill someone and walk away. It was cold but he rationalized that the other person took their life in their own hands by stepping into the ring. It was as if they were climbing Mt. Everest. There was a good chance they could die. For years he rationalized away all the death. How many people had he killed? Snake couldn’t even remember these days. Hundreds easily just in the summer he spent fighting in Thailand. There’d been more since. How many more, he couldn’t even recall. Plissken couldn’t even recall what any of them looked like particularly.
Plissken was troubled by it all. He really didn’t like to kill unless it was necessary. That brought about the obvious question. Was this killing necessary? The only answer he had was “no”. His name was called and Plissken moved like clockwork toward the gun ring. It was an automatic response now. For a moment he felt like a trained rat pushing the lever when a buzzer sounded.
His footsteps slowed as he reached the gate that separated the arena from the crowd. A kid stood inside. He couldn’t have been over twenty, eager and with the wrong kind of gun for this fight. Snake knew if he stepped in the boy would die. Plissken stood there in the open gate. He hadn’t set foot in the ring yet. Once he went over that line there was no turning back. Plissken looked up at the young face. The boy seemed a bit afraid, taken aback, even worried about whom was standing in the gateway. The patched man was death in the gun arena. Most people who worked the circuits knew.
Snake lit a cigarette as the crowd screamed for blood. A long drag passed while he observed the crowd, the boy and then the man standing at the gate. Plissken let the smoke curl out. The whole place felt cold despite the oppressiveness of so many people being crammed in. Snake felt it again. A killing machine was not what he wanted to be. This was what the military trained him to be. The military mindset was the last place in the world he wanted to be.
There was a choice to be made. Snake tossed the cigarette down in the ring. People thought it was a challenge. Cheers went wildly through the crowd followed by whispers. Plissken had seen enough. Turning among the cheers he walked away. He was through killing. He didn’t want to kill anymore. All he wanted to do was go and be left alone.
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Note: This is both a canon and current rp response.