Congratulations.

You were president of the United States of America

After a brutal election campaign

After dozens of deals

After hundreds of speeches

After thousands of promises, you couldn't make

After millions of lies to the American people

You had made it.

You could finally recline in that big brown cushy chair in the Oval Office.

You could lean back into that ornate leather and bathe yourself in the atmosphere

Many great leaders had sat and stood in this office

and you planned to be one of them.

As you were, of course, enjoying yourself, you heard the sudden click of the door. Perturbed, you certainly were, you had told your staff not to disturb you.

Yet what entered the room would put you in a fouler mood than hearing that a recount of votes was needed.

Hell, as that soldier entered the office, you'd be wishing that your opponent was in the seat, not you.

He walked with an air of superiority as he approached your desk, his face obscured partially by his balaclava. He was much larger than you, and his desert camouflage uniform stuck out sorely against the white walls

You had to wonder how the hell a soldier had gotten into the Oval, he didn't look like an officer.

You felt your hand reach for the button to call the Secret Service, yet his low growling voice halted you. It sounded like the deep rumbling of tank treads, and the heavy groan of engines.

"I wouldn't do that, they'll think you're crazy."

His hand slowly waved in dismissal, a look of amusement in his eyes.

"A Battalion could walk in here right now, and they'd see or sense nothing."

"Nonetheless."

He paused in his speech for a moment, eyeing you again

"Its a pleasure to meet you.. President."

He halted right in front of the desk, leaning forward slightly.

"It is a shame though.."

Only closer now, you could see the hateful crimson swirling in his irises. A cruel smile stretching beneath the mask

"That Tensions have been rising, haven't they?.. "

War, had arrived.