OTACON

The slight cold brushed the faces of the many watching the football game at Steubenville High School. Fall had recently arrived, and it could be felt in both the air and the energy. The game wasn't incredibly close – 24 to 7 against Steubenville, yet the parents and some dedicated fans still stayed in slim hopes.

While most were focused to closely on either the glow of their phones or the game on the field, a black car parked in the moist parking lot. The air still smelled of rain, and the field muddied from a few hours previous. Out of the car came a peculiar bunch – a group of three men dawned in long black suits, black gloves, and dress shoes. A single one wore a fedora on the top of his head, while another one, the shortest one, started towards the field holding a sizable backpack. The others followed.

The security guard on duty was half-asleep, as this far in the game not many visitors were expected. However, not even the tiredness of the guard kept him away from being distracted by the strange men in strange suits.

The third and final one, the leader, moved to the guard.

“A little late, dontcha think?”

The leader stood and stared at the guard. Short and Hat took their places to the sides of him, at the back.

“Sir, your ticket please.”

The three continued to stare blankly at the man. At this notion of silence, the guard became uncomfortable.

“Well if you're not here for the game, what the fuck are you here for?”

Finally, the leader reached into his suit. Out came a dark black silenced weapon, that before the guard could react the leader shot at the glass. Instantly it shattered, and the ammunition of the weapon landed straight in the neck of the guard. Looking down, the guard noticed a single black feather. As he intended to take it out, his hand miscommunicated and instead motioned towards the desk he sat at, shortly before his eyes went to the top of his head and he collapsed. The three men entered.

The sound of shattered glass was not heard by the crowd, as instead the noise of a few tens of people cheering filled the autumn air, as the Steubenville home team gained a field goal. 24-10, 3:29 remaining.

The three began to hasten towards their positions. Short unzipped the backpack, while the other two reached in. Out from the darkness of the backpack came the red light and beeping of explosives.

Short and Hat went to the far corners of the back of the stands. At the corners, each placed three of the C4 – One at top on the back side, one in the middle on the side, and one at the bottom, also on the back side. The leader put five at the main exit of the stands, making an arch across the metal exit.

As they finished, they began their departure. 1:05 remaining, still 24-10. A lost game for Steubenville.

Short threw the backpack to Hat, who then passed into the corner of the parking lot. Getting out his lighter, he lit the pack, and its embers began to burn brightly. With a mixture of smoke and rain in the atmosphere, the three reversed out of the parking lot.

0:32 remaining.

The car continued until it was out of the parking lot. On the field, parent's congratulated their sons, 'At least you tried'. 'You can't win'em all'.

Finally, the last moment was reached. The crowd began to move out through exits. Hat held the trigger, shaking greatly. Finally, the leader gave the call.

In a single second, a pompous mix of fire and metal consumed the field. The parents were pushed back, the sons ambushed by shrapnel. Eventually the stands gave in and collapsed, leaving buried any who still stood.

“A fit end.” Short made note.

Quickly, the leader moved on the breaks, leaving behind a field of fire and sky of ash and of autumn.

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