The sound of the terror-guns reverberated through the room like cannons shot just overhead, Rega knew the sounds were artificial and miles away but the terror-gun program was meant to instill fear and crank up the stress factor of the war without blood.  For Rega the program was a success, she would become the latest casualty of the bloodless war.

For three days the terror guns had screamed into her brain along with the rhetoric that constantly blared from the screens of the war channel she was forced to experience.  If she could just hold out for a few more days she could go back to her life, her section of the city was scheduled to cease bombardment in just fifty eight hours.  Fifty eight more hours until the awful sights, noise and stench of the bloodless war would cease in her sector.

It was seven thirty a.m. the casualty reclamation centers were just opening their doors.  Thousands of people waited anxiously, clutching and scratching at themselves; pulling large hunks of hair from their heads as they waited to be let in to the centers for their relief.  Their eyes were racked with pain, darting nervously to and fro as if the horrors of their minds might come to life and render their bodies into the gory mess their minds had become.

Gently, the helmeted orderlies reached out to comfort the soon to be deceased and walked them into the casualty chambers assigned to them. Rega stood gently rocking herself to and fro and waiting patiently for their kind attention.

When the head of the opposition party had suggested the plan it seemed like a simple solution to the endless destruction the world had experienced for decades.  This would be a bloodless war; each side would have weapons of psychological destruction to inflict upon the other.  No more actual obliteration of valuable resources, no more violent death, just the surrender of the weak to the seduction of a peaceful death; triumph belonging to those citizens most willing to bear daily witness to true horror; so that they might prosper and live in this world of dwindling resources.

So the pact was made and the terror began, assigned sectors of the community bombarded by terrifying noises, horrifying stench, and the constant audio visual terror of mans inhumanity to man played out twenty four seven on large wall sized screens installed in every room of every house.  There was no escape, no sanctuary of mind or body that could prevail over the bombardment of ugliness that emanated from every corner of every life.  Only the very strong, those able to maintain a passionate indifference to the suffering of their fellow man would survive.

Rega thought it would be easy, she thought surely this was better than actual war.

Her mind wandered as she shuffled forward into the waiting arms of the sympathetic orderly.  He gave her the blindfold and earplugs she had been promised by the war committee and the blessed silence washed over her like the soothing warmth of cascading warm water upon her shoulders.  No more war was all she could think as the orderly strapped her hands down to the table.

The needle slowly lowered from the ceiling and inserted itself into Rega’s soft flesh.  All was as it should be, all was going according to the war plan.

"Ready on seven, seven six nine three," called the orderly tapping the termination button on his handheld casualty counter; but Rega could not hear and Rega could not see and Rega did not feel the warm surge of deadly liquid that quickly stopped the beating of her weary heart.