Creative Writing: Laser Guns

“No,” he answers. “They use them. Force them to build weapons and other junk…” He pauses, stepping around me. “What’re you doing? The power core’s blown.”
“It’s not,” I whisper, eyes never leaving the weapon.
“What?”
I snap the tiny casing back on with a pop. “Said it’s not. It’s old and a bit slow, still works though. All it needed was a few wires switched and the core lineament adjusted.” I flip the switch on and the laser gun lights up, a soft purring tingling my palm. I aim at the wall and gently pull the trigger.
Laser guns aren’t loud, compared to guns using gunpowder or plasma.
It’s a muffled zap, a flash of yellow light and a burnt hole in the wall. It isn’t big and barely three inches deep with smoke rising from it. It could still kill an attacker. …show more content…
They’re lightweight and silent.
Felix’s mouth hangs as if he’s trying to catch flies. “I’d…uh…How…how did you do that?”
I shrug, switching it off. “Just something I picked up.”
“Like that scar. Did you just pick that up too?”
I look up at him, jaw clenched. My Human scar hides under a dirty sleeve, I continually tug at. Is he threatening me?
If he thinks he can push me around, he has another thing coming.
“Relax,” he soothes, hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to…Um, I meant I…Sorry. It’s just that’s a death sentence on your arm. What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? No one gets that word physically carved into their skin for nothing.”
“It really is none of your business.” I change the subject. “Why are you locked up here?”
“Me?” He points to his chest, chuckling. "I was born here. I didn’t do anything and I’m stuck in this damn hole.”
“Trust me. It’s not better out