Kill Konfirmed: A Short Story

By J.L. Shojosh

In a world where an exclusive cadre of pilots, the Relevant, is contracted by various interests to war over the world’s resources, can Jackson Airstrutt maintain sanity? For several years, needing to fend for himself in order to survive, will the orphaned lad now manage to hold on to the rarest treasure in his life, his one friend? Or maybe the fame that comes with piloting a state of the art android eventually gets to him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.L. Shojosh
• Release date: Oct 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005633318

J.L. Shojosh

I hope to show the universal humanity inherent in all of us. There's more that we as humans have in common with one another than the differences that sometimes pit us against each other. Through stories, I hope to highlight a few of those commonalities. Love conquers all.

Book preview

Kill Konfirmed:

A

Short Story

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By J.L. SHOJOSH

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Copyright © 2020 Joshua Nsangi. All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by R.B. Publishers, Smashwords Edition.

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The brownish broth, another one of Jax’s daily masterpieces of cuisine, poised in the sauce-plastered microwave, had long lost its taste-worthy heat. The overworked microwave was the lazy Jackson’s reliable handmaid, or the Tornado to his Zorro, as he’d oft loved to think. Infested by more than a couple of years’ worth of instant noodle juice, the spattered scene displayed a rich historic mix of flavors, as popped and splashed juices clung onto the metallic walls of said microwave. Now, the interior barely held any semblance of whiteness.

Jackson was curled up in a ball, a hooded figure in the corner. The room was dark. The clutches of somberness extended everywhere, except for Jackson’s corner, that bit of his room that was illuminated by the bright beaming rays of his television set. The sound of gunshots rapidly being fire could be heard from outside his apartment, all the way from down the hall. Jackson, however loathed, paid little mind to the creatively crafted chit-chat about his lifestyle. His neighbors so eagerly bantered on about him, if passing by his door. Indeed, the only thing worthy of his attention was that bloody game. He mashed on and snapped away, grinding, twiddling his thumbs on the cordless controller, the shrine well poised on its own stool; his much adored gaming console.

Come on! Did you see that? Hurry up dude, revive me. Jackson yelled out. Hey, at least it couldn’t be said that he had no contact with the outside world. It just so happened that for Jax, his world was immersed in and composed of Kobra, the game that had zealously and mercilessly gripped the first-player shooter gaming scene, the world round.

Bloody hell! Revive me, man. He insisted, roaring through the microphone that wrapped around his head and curled down