Personal Narrative Essay: The Cold War

I ejected myself from my horse, letting it go back into the wild. We reached a dead end and I would rather let it go free than be killed in the crossfire.
The three officers commanded us to line up in a row and place our hands above our heads so they could subdue us.
As one of the officers started to cuff Takara. She did a roundhouse kick into his groin area. The other officers froze as they watched the exchange. Her kick did not faze him, and he retaliated by twisting her leg. She fell to the ground, squealing.
While they were distracted by Takara, Logan elbowed the officer who hurt her. He turned and grabbed her by her right arm, and she withdrew a trident dagger from her holster, stabbing him in the back of the neck. Colorful wires emerged from his flesh as his body sizzled until he combusted into flames.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“They are robots, their hard drive is in

“My life’s work gone!” Dr. Crenshaw shouted from afar clutching his face, scurrying in. “Damn you Maricel!” He shouted as fire stood between us. Screams of some of the members who chose to stay were muted by the fire.
The guards reached the room, shooting, and I oscillated jumping elbow first through the large oval window as the building burst into a series of orange flames. Thick black smoke curled polluting the air with the stench of sulfur. I flew through dead space landing at the feet of the riverbed rolling onto the grassy knolls coughing from the fumes.
The other women were gone. Nothing in view gave me an idea if they went down the river or, not. Thumping of cloven hooves alerted me that the seirim and Asmodeus behind me.
I clutched tightly to the strap of my bag, peering down at the rushing current leading to a waterfall. From the corner of my eye, I saw the demons were getting closer. Pressing my eyelids together, I staggered closer to the river throwing myself