(this is an actual dream I had, slightly modified)
I stood there, hands shaking, sweat dripping, clenching ever so dearly to the weapon in my hands.
Silvery pistol, glinting from some unknown source of light in the distance.
The crunch of foliage beneath my feet ever so softly.
A hissing voice in my ear, perhaps in my mind.
I looked at the trembling form in front of me, gun unsheathed but vacant of ammo.
I knew them.
I had seen their face in my life many a time.
But I had to follow my orders without hesitation.
A trickle of sweat from my palm made the gun in my hands slick as sleet.
Muscles twitched. Fingers tightened.
The hole in his head, ever so suddenly, began to spill thick red remnants of life.
I hadn't had but half a second to process it.
Tears leaked, salty waves crashing across my mud-caked face.