A short story focusing on anti hero.
Answers
I do not understand how it has come to this. Trapped in this insufferably small room with just my luger and 1 bullet. I thought was doing gods will, and now enemies are all around me. Those monsters I killed were not people, not in the true sense of the word. I did not think they were. Was I wrong? Perhaps. Some call me a hero, though that number is dwindling by the second. More call me a monster. All I ever wanted was to make it great, to have the best quality of life for those like me. ONLY those like me. In these last moments of my life, I pray that my people shall remember my name, as a warning to the human race. The war was not too bad, though we lost. After all, it is conflict that has made man strong, and only through peace shall it grow weak. I guess the world needs someone like me to come along every once in a while. After all, third tries the charm.
(I do not share the beliefs of the Anti "Hero")
Answer:
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