The Captured Follower

The flesh on your arm melts away as you hold down the leak. You scream in pain, and the weapon fires. All but one of the sarkics are killed in the blast. The last, walks up to you injured. They look you in the eye and run at you with a knife. You reach out your working robotic arm. Grabbing them by the neck. You toss them into the ground, stepping on their head until they stop moving. All is silent accept the now spreading fire of the blast. The smell of blood and burning hair fills the air as you walk into the distance.
Walking and walking.