A Different Kind of Op

Somewhere over Everfree Forest

All I could feel was falling.... That weightless feeling again..... Like I was falling from the sky......

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“Shit”

The freezing cold air that accompanied only the clearest of night skies brought my senses back from a very well earned leave.

Ya’know, because all leave ends with you being dropped out of the sky. Loving the sense here.

As my eyes flickered back in to life, I could see the world blurring and spinning around me, my arms flailing about, pathetically attempting to find a purchase to grip on to that simply wasn’t there. Quite humorous to think about really when you consider that not 12 hours ago, I quite literally threw myself out of a transport plane with the gusto of a nympho being released into a brothel. Of course, I was actually prepared for that jump. This one was more...

Well, it was more surprising. Yeah. Let’s go with surprising.

I attempted to try and define, in my completely addled state, which way was up. Not the easiest task to do when you don’t even know WHERE you are. Just from the aforementioned chill, which was billowing through the tears in my combat top, I could tell this wasn’t Yemen. Not anymore.

“If I was a little more with it, I’d make a Wizard of Oz joke......” I ruminated within the confines of my own head

However, I had to quickly focus on the task at hand, and remembering what experience I had had with skydiving before, I quickly attempted to re-shape my body into the widest possible star-esque shape that I could. By giving myself a larger surface area, I’d give myself more air resistance, slowing down my speed and hopefully, giving myself a little more time to avoid what I could only assume was going to be a rather painful reunion with Mother Nature. And she was pissed.

Once that was done, I rolled myself over, letting the world seemingly spin around me, until below my eye level, I could glimpse the darker, more leafy earth coloured tones of what I could assume was a forest, allowing the glittering sky to occupy it’s previous position in the upper levels of my viewing perspective.

And that’s when I saw it.

Falling at roughly my speed, and just below me, was my battle pack.

And in it, my reserve chute.

In that instant, I felt an ember of hope rekindle itself into a mighty fire, setting my heart ablaze, and sending my synapses into overdrive as adrenaline coursed into my system. I wasn’t going to end up as pavement pizza! I just had to reach it in time....

I allowed my arms to retract slightly back towards my sides, trying to manoeuvre my body into a position where my weight would tilt me forward enough to move me within range of the tumbling sack of military-grade goodies. I felt it taking effect, as the distance between myself and my pack began to close, but another thought began squirming it’s my way into my head, commandeering my attention temporarily. I dared to look down, and instantly regretted it.

The realisation that very quickly came crashing down on me was that I couldn’t have been more than about 30 seconds from hitting the ground at this speed. It was going to take at least another 10 to let alone reach my pack, and factoring in the difficulty of trying to open it while falling at a speed I can only describe as “Code Brown”, by the time I had got my chute, pulling it might have very little effect on exactly how much of a splatter mark I would be when I hit the ground.

Nevertheless, I glided onward towards my gear. About 5 seconds later, my hands touched down it’s rugged surface, latching on with a vice-like grip to its straps, and swinging it downwards to clamp it down between my thighs, nestling it’s lower half securely between my thighs. Using that as a reference point almost, I took my hands off the straps, trying to fix my numb fingers around the zip. Fingerless gloves were looking a lot less appealing now. It was proving to be an extremely difficult task. My hands were practically dead from the cold, and at this point, a blind narcoleptic would’ve been more useful. However, I managed to open the zip just enough to force my right hand into the bag, temporarily shielding it from the frosty bite of the night air as it rummaged around, desperately searching for the one thing that would make or break me, quite literally, within the next 15 seconds.....

I couldn’t feel anything that resembled the silken parachute I so desperately needed. And time, as they say, was waiting for no man. 6 seconds passed

9 seconds to impact.....

“Comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon......”

8 seconds.....

“Where are you for fuck sake!?”

7 seconds.....

“I can’t believe this is even happe...Wait a minute....”

6 seconds.....

I felt a metal clip brush against my fingertips. “YES!”

5 seconds......

I wrenched it out of the bag with my right hand, using the momentum afforded from the chute’s natural arc of motion to swing the satiny godsend onto my back, the straps sliding over my arms......

4 seconds......

“Right. I do believe that’s my cue” I growled under my breath, even as the words were ripped from my mouth and lost in a blizzard of noise afforded by the wind. I yanked the securely fastened cords attached to each of the straps on my shoulders, sliding my legs over the bag to kick away at it as I did. The last thing I wanted was for it to snag on my legs, and cause some kind of problem.

For a split second, I could’ve sworn nothing happened. What I simply didn’t hear was the parachute unfurling wildly into the night sky. That being said, AFTER that split second, I certainly bloody felt it. Even after experiencing parachute drops multiple times, it was just another thing I never really got used to, and I was normally wearing a little more padding than a simply combat top. Not that it could really be called that anymore. The straps of the chute cut into my arms, pain lancing through my upper body as my speed slowed down massively.

Once my breathing slowed down, and I pushed my bollocks back out, my thoughts again turned to what lay below me. And it was not exactly what I wanted to see.

Forest. A huge expanse of it. Rolling over hills and into the distance. I could barely see it’s edge, but I knew that I was way too far off course to even think about making it out simply from my drift alone. Instead, my eyes began to scan the leafy green environment in search of somewhere to touch down safely.

I looked about for a few more seconds, before my eyes finally settles on a small, circular clearing that was just visible beneath its light tree cover. That wouldn’t be a problem, as I would probably punch through it as I came down; I just didn’t want to tear the chute at all. Now with no gear and only the clothes on my back, it was going to be all I had to keep warm tonight, unless I could scrape a fire together. Also, that covering would hopefully be enough to provide cover from any rain..... If that was even a thing wherever I was.

I straightened my left leg out below me, my boot making a solid *SNAP* as it ploughed its way through a few branches during its job of punching a hole in the tree canopy. I allowed myself a small chuckle and a hearty exhale as I finally touched back down on the ground, my para coming down a few seconds after me, and luckily, it looked to me mostly unscathed. I took a few seconds to get my thoughts back together, and when I did..... I just stopped. And burst out laughing.

I’m serious here. I was literally dying on the ground. I couldn’t believe what I had just done. In retrospective, it wasn’t that spectacular, but I think the whole magnitude of the situation had finally hit me. Yeah, like a truck. I just couldn’t comprehend at that moment, the ludicrousness of it all. I think I was slightly hysterical. Just a bit. But, once my giggle fit abandoned me, I realised that, as absurd as this all seemed, unless I was DEAD (Not a nice thought. Like. At all), this WAS indeed, all real.

I swiftly reacquainted my behind with the earth beneath me, and began to compose a small list of things I now needed to do.

It looked a little like this:

Ty’s Anti-Fuck-Up-Oh-Dear-God-I-Hate-These-Things-List

Step 1: Set up bedding, start fire

Step 2: Attempt to find gear (HIGHLY UNLIKELY)

Step 3: Find a way out of this hellhole

Step 4: Find someone..... Anyone......

I probably could’ve made a step 5. But that would’ve been effort. And after being electrocuted, dropped out of the sky TWICE, being shot, and wanting to die, effort was something that was in desperately short supply.

It was, of course, extremely dark, and that mean that my visibility wasn’t at its peak. I’d barely been able to find this small clearing, let alone be able to pick out any specific details about it. I could see trees. Obviously. And they seemed to essentially encompass my location. From what I could work out, I was in a small circular clearing, surrounded on all sides by odd trees and greenery. Nice, well covered. Not too bad a find for someone who had just fallen out of the sky!

I had no idea what the time was. I WAS wearing a watch when I had my little incident, but looking down at my wrist, it was quite obvious it was not with me anymore. Either way though, I had to get moving. I needed to establish some kind of camp, and there was no time like the present. I removed myself from the spongy, moss laden ground, and made for the nearest trees. Luckily, they seemed to have a few low hanging branches, which were quite easily snapped off and gathered up. I took a brief moment to stroke over the wood, looking for any moisture. There was none.

This was a good thing. Firelighting without a match or flint was not a fun experience normally, but with wet wood, it was damn near impossible. The wood would need to be dried, and that may have taken time I didn’t possess. Once I had bundled enough twigs together, I grabbed my chute, bundling it into my arms, and I set about finding two trees that were a reasonable distance apart from each other. It took a few seconds for my eyes to pierce the murkiness enveloping the clearing, but I finally perceived a pair of brilliant looking specimens, and quickly hurried over.

Unbundling my chute again, I reached into the bag it had come from, trying to locate some kind of quick-release for the cords. It took a little rummaging, and I may have coloured the air somewhat with a few choice expletives, but I finally found what I looking for, feeling the cords come away in my hand. Taking one lot of cords, I carefully wrapped them round and round the trunk of one of my chosen trees, finally securing them in place with a knot. I then proceeded to do exactly the same with the other bunch, and when I was done, I couldn’t help but be a little pleased with myself.

I had made a, albeit slightly shoddy looking, hammock, which would serve quite adequately as bedding for my little overnight camp out. I was a little worried that the material of the chute would hold my weight, but right now, it wasn’t exactly like I could just pop down to my neighbourhood Novotel and check in, so this was just gonna have to cut it. I mentally reminded myself to apologise to it later.....

After allowing myself to enjoy that little moment of triumph, I turned my attention back to the small mountain of sticks, twigs and foliage I had gathered and began to bundle some of the drier leaves up in an attempt to make a kindling nest for my fire. I found a relatively flat piece of wood to do it all on too, into which I had made a small V-shaped notch using one the metal lace-cappers on my boots, also making a small indent next to it. I placed a piece of bark underneath my notch. I then grabbed what I was using as a spindle, placed it into the depression I had made, and got spinning.

This method of friction-based fire making was not exactly preferable, but as I had mentioned, I had very little else to use, and I NEEDED that fire. I had no clue what was lurking in this forest, and I hoped the fire would serve as a warning to whatever WAS in there to stay away. After about an hour and a bit, a small ember appeared, which I transferred to my bark, and then into my kindling nest, which promptly and to no shortage of my relief, began to catch, wisps of smoke rising steadily off into the night. I piled up a few more sticks in the kindling nest, making something of a little fire tepee.

It was going to need some attention over the next few hours to allow it to build up into anything sizeable, and so, knowing sleep would simply not be an option for at least a little while, I meandered the few feet from my fire to my hammock, and gently slid myself into it.

No rip.

Fuck yes.

I settled in a little, and, surprisingly, though not being the warmest of sleeping materials, it possessed a level of comfort I had certainly not been familiar with in at least a few days, and so, being the dashing opportunity-grabber that I was, I decided it was time to have a little catch-up.

And yet, even as I did so, I couldn’t help but turn my head a little, angling my eyes into the delicate embers of the new heat source I had created. I felt my mind yearning, wanting to be allowed to wander and wallow in my own thoughts, and so I indulged it.

As I looked into that glowing pile of sticks and twig, I let out a steady sigh. I couldn’t help it. I had no clue where I was. Was I even on Earth anymore? Because, unless SPECTRE had been hiding some super-secret new glowing teleportation device from the rest of us, it certainly wasn’t them who had liberated me.

I took another moment to ponder what had just crossed my mind. The word, to be more precise. Liberated. And the more I began to ponder on that, and the events of that last day or so, the more I was sure that was indeed the word I was looking for. Not just from my Yemeni captor, but in a sense, from my American one as well.

SPECTRE had been almost like a surrogate family to me to be honest. After everything I had dealt with in my relatively few adult years, when I joined their ranks, I remember the elation I had felt. Someone had finally wanted me. Someone thought I was somebody worth having around. It was a feeling I hadn’t had much experience with before, and as such, for the first few months, I threw myself into my job with previously unseen vigour. Looking back on it, I think it had blinded me somewhat to the truth of the matter.

SPECTRE was off the books. As were all of it’s personnel. In all the feeling I had been swept up in about someone finally wanting me for who I was, I feel like I forgot something that should’ve raised red fucking flags the moment the opportunity even came up. SPECTRE was never just something you could walk away from. There was no retirement. No way out, unless it was in a body bag. This was not a job for life, it was a life for a job.

But I couldn’t see that at the time. I let myself get swept up in the grandeur of it all. The friends I had made. The commanding officer whose attention I practically mainlined, like a terrible addiction. The kit, all fancy and new, and, in some respect, the missions as well.

Even with all of that though, over the last few months I felt myself becoming more and more unhappy in my post. It felt to me like, for that first time, I was seeing the ugly side of SPECTRE. The side that they don’t want you to see until it’s too late for you to do anything about it. And that fucked  me right off. I felt wounded, I felt betrayed, but most importantly, I felt alone. Again.

“Just like I bet you made him feel when you pulled that trigger”.

I could feel my heart palpitate slightly in my chest. That could just piss right off. That was the last thing I needed right now.

I felt like I had let them get their teeth into me, and there was going to be no way of getting them back out again. Even if I did, there was no telling what kind of lasting harm there would be.

I rolled over gently in my hammock; uncomfortable at having all this brought back up to the surface, but the floodgates were well and truly open now. And there was just no stopping my emotional flow.

I cast my thoughts back a little less far afield that time, to the more recent events I had been through. And the turmoil and irritancy came back twofold. Thinking back on it, it was a FUCKING RIDICULOUS idea! I mean, yeah, we’re spec ops. We were trained for this, but still. Sending one guy, alone, into a militant camp, with gear that he himself had been allowed to pick? I was 25 for fuck sake. My combat experience was vastly outweighed by some of the more veteran members of the team, and yet that very same kit-picking privilege had been extended to me as well.  At the time, I had been honoured, but in looking back on it, I could see the whole thing was an accident waiting to happen, and this time, it just so happened that it had.

“I could’ve gotten myself KILLED for Christ sake! I pretty much did! I was completely, and royally, FUCKED!” I bellowed at no one in particular, slinging another stick onto the now steadily building orange glow before me as a single, solitary tear forced its way out of my eye and down my cheek. It wasn’t important to me that someone listen. It was more about getting this of my chest and into the open.

The more and more I thought about it, the more I just thought the whole thing reeked of pomp and arrogance. I think I had seen it referred to before as a “Gary Stu”. An op where one guy went in alone and practically deflected bullets with the size of his raging, testosterone-filled sack and his “manliness”. It made me a little sick to be honest. I had let myself get pulled into it, pulled into ALL of it, because I was just desperate for attention; desperate to be wanted again.

And in that instance, I made a choice. One that would define my future. I decided that, even if this was just another location on Earth, this was the last straw for me. The one that broke the camel’s back. I was done. I wanted nothing more to do with this madness. In the heat of combat, I had failed to realise that what had happened to me was almost inevitable. I would’ve been dead. I SHOULD’VE been dead......

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Then, in a single instant, I was hit by a moment of clarity. Something I could only describe as an epiphany.

“Whoever, or WHATEVER, brought me here” I stammered, “I owe them my life. Not just physically, but mentally”

Thanks to my coming here, I had managed to come to a realisation. I realised I was seduced by SPECTRE’s toxic influence. I realised I had practically sold myself out for a false feeling of brotherhood. I realised that I was just living my life one job after another. And now I was here, I realised that that life was now finally back where it belonged; in my own hands. Even then, I’d almost managed to drop the fucking thing.

I owed them everything.

My emotions began to settle slightly, being brought down to more of a simmer than the roaring blaze they had been mere minutes ago. I realised that, during my personal ranting, I had neglected my fire somewhat, and so I hastily hopped out of my makeshift bedding and  moved to rectify that situation, adding a little more fuel to increase the warmth generated from basking in that gentle orange glow.

For the first time, I had a real chance to get a look at my surroundings in at least some semblance of light.  I couldn’t particularly say that what I saw comforted me. Everything just looked so.... Dead. Lifeless. It was a little scary to be frank. The whole place just seemed to positively ooze fear and sadness.

“I don’t remember seeing, hearing or reading anything about any environment like this on Earth. Maybe I really AM on another planet?”

Either way, at that point, I was beginning to have trouble functioning. My eyes were beginning to droop as I let out a large yawn. Clearly, my activities had been a little too much for my body, which was now demanding recompense. I thrust a few more sticks into my fire, which was now going nicely, before slowly wandering back to my makeshift bedding, sliding into its smooth embrace, and letting sleep wrap it’s murky tendrils around my mind, pulling me off into a land of slumber.

It’s funny really; the things that wake you up.

Today, much to my immediate displeasure, was no different, and it was rather strangely, an event I have come to blame on my foot. I didn’t even really think about it until it happened, but that little hole I broke through the previous day during my decent? Well, the laws of physics decided to provide me with the rudest “fuck you” awakening possible. Light streamed through the patchy canopy, including its new addition...... Only to fall right on my sleeping, twitching face.

I felt that all encompassing glow penetrate my eyelids, banishing the sleep from my eyes, and into the recesses of my mind. My body, startled by the change in conditions, decided it was going to leap into action. So eagerly in fact, that it may have forgotten in its haste, to let my brain in on it’s wonderful idea.

My arms flew outward in a vain attempt to block out that piercing light, flailing as they did. And somewhere during that flailing, the managed to roll me right over. Out of the hammock. Onto the floor. And my ass.

The pain shot through my body like a bullet train, quickly dashing anymore thoughts of “Aww, come on mum!” or “Just five more minutes?”. That made me chuckle somewhat, as when you worked for a government agency, you very quickly realised they owned you. And that included your sleep schedule. Then I realised what I was thinking about.

“SPECTRE...” I couldn’t help but let out a small huff of displeasure. “You know what? Up’em” I sullenly thought. I couldn’t help but feel they were the ones responsible for my predicament, but to discount my own faults would only thrust my now-apparent folly even further into the limelight. I was equally as guilty, but the difference now was that I was gonna put my foot down. No more. I wanted out.

That is, if SPECTRE even existed here.

Now that I was up, albeit a little more violently then I would’ve preferred, I chanced a look over at the fire I had constructed for myself last night , and found naught but a loosely standing pile of burnt ash, hiding within it the smouldering embers of what had been the vigil of my night. There was no chance of rekindling it without completely starting afresh, and that didn’t bother me. The sun was hanging fairly high in the sky, and that meant it was time to move out. I wasn’t intending to LEAVE my little slice of paradise, but I needed a few supplies, and wanted to venture out to get a better feel for where I was, and what may have been the quickest way outta there.

I stood up slowly from my seated position on the floor, dusting myself off as I went, before setting off at a light jog down the nearest thing resembling a path that I could find. Luckily for me, a couple of things were in my favour. I liked to think that my memory was fairly up to scratch, and that I would allow me to internally store a map of where I was going, instead of having to attempt things “Hansel and Gretel”-style. This allowed me a certain freedom to explore various areas I may have avoided without that skill, for fear of becoming lost, and was in itself magnificently useful.

I had been walking for maybe 20 or so minutes when I chanced upon my first lucky find of the day. I was stomping on a particularly thorny bush in front of me that looked for all the world like it would’ve tried to have my leg off if I had absent-mindedly wandered through, when I heard a quiet but noticeable sound.....

I stopped my shrubbery manslaughter for a second, my ears perking up not unlike a dog, and my head on the swivel.

“That sound..... It sounds like a....No, it can’t be....?”

I took a moment to wonder what in this godforsaken expanse of greenery would be making a ......trickling...... sound?

Then it hit me.

“Water” And it was close.

My ears homed in on that sweet, sweet sound of flowing liquid, and my legs very quickly gained a life of their own. I broke into a quick sprint, tearing through whatever foliage lay before me. I only then realised exactly how thirsty I was. I hadn’t drunk anything for hours. I was given a little water when I was strapped to that fucking chair, but exactly how much good it did me was anyone’s guess. All I knew was that at that very point in time, I was parched. I needed water badly, and that only fuelled the fire that nipped at my feet as I rocketed through the greenery.

I was sprinting for about ten seconds, that beautiful sound filling my ears louder and louder as I approached, before I found it. A spring of water was flowing down from in between some collapsed rocks, collecting in a rather large bowl-type hole at it’s base. The light reflected of it’s translucent surface as it cascaded gently down the improvised waterfall. As I mentioned, it was a very small flow, but then and there? It was more valuable to me than all gold in the world. I lurched the final few metres toward it, falling to my battered kneecaps as I simply knelt for a seconds, basking in it’s life-giving essence. I could feel the spray gently settling on my face, wetting it slightly.

I tilted forward on my knees, allowing my fingertips to break it’s glistening surface. To me, it was only confirmation of what I already believed.

“Water. It really is WATER!” I could barely contain my excitement. I fashioned my hands into something resembling a cup, and pushed it under the flow, before withdrawing it again, and bringing it to my own parched lips. As I tilted my hands back, I could feel the soothing liquid relief rush down my barren throat, removing any and all feelings of discomfort I had developed previously. Food was not such a precious commodity, as most humans could go days without it, but water? Water was a necessity for everyone and anyone, and I was simply glad I had happened upon this source.

That pattern repeated itself for a few minutes more, allowing me to both vitally rehydrate, and to cool off any of the sweat that I had built up. Now that the sun was captaining the sky, I really was beginning to feel the heat beat down on me, and so the spring provided me with welcome relief from that as well.

I brought myself steadily back into a standing position, taking a step backward as I did so, and causing my perspective to shift upward only by the slightest of margins. Cue lucky find number two. As my gaze was somewhat forced upward, my eyes came to settle on something that looked extremely out of place, nestled in between the trunks of two trees, not a stone’s throw away from the life-giving vessel I had stumbled upon not moments ago. It had the strangest shape I could possibly conceive out for something one might find out in the wilderness. It didn’t look at all natural. Some kind of crumpled up cylinder shape, with black tendrils hanging over the sides?

There was certainly nothing natural I knew of that would take on such a shape!

Wait.

What had I just said?

“There was certainly nothing natural I knew of that would take on such a shape!..... Natural.....Natural.....Natur....”

Oh sweet Mary mother of Christ.

IT WAS MY BAG!

Somehow, of all the places I could’ve possibly wandered out into, I had not only come across a source of water, but my bag of gear as well? Unbelievable! Lady Luck was out in full force today! And she was lookin mighty fine from where I was stood!

For the second time that day, I dashed off in the direction of my new find, filled with a sudden hope. I was no longer without kit! I would have things I could use in there, things that would make tracking down civilisation so much easier! It seemed impossible after I fell that I would ever find this thing again, and yet here it was! So many questions buzzed around in my mind as I powered my way toward my goal......

......And the first one to pop up when I got there was why, in the name of God the thing looked so FUCKING EMPTY! It was as though everything I packed in it had grown legs and just wandered off! I allowed myself a second to catch my breath, before using both my hands to lift the lid, at least trying to put my fears to rest.

Instead, it decided to pump the fuckers so full of Red Bull and Pro-Plus I had a heart time keeping my disappointment for bursting out of my chest. The bag was indeed, as per my wish, not empty. However, it was certainly a far cry from full either. As the lid was lifted, I couldn’t help but feel my heart sink into my chest. My gun was missing, along with all of it’s ammo, and half my tactical gear too. There was very little left in there that I could salvage at all. I sat back on my haunches for a second, another frustrated tear creeping down my face. Mere moments ago, I had been filled with such hope. I thought that I would be able to simply swan out of the forest, and back into civilisation, and now, that had all come crashing down. I stopped to wonder for a second, just WHERE all of my kit had gone.

“Did drop anything? I don’t think so. It was all there when I got caught. Not to mention the bag LOOKED pretty full when I saw it from the torture chair. The only other time it was even OPEN at all was when I got my.....”

The truth hit me like a truck. It was MY fault. When I tore my reserve out of my bag during my freefall, I had forgotten to do the zip back up

I forced back anymore tears I may have had, and proceeded to empty the contents of the duffel onto the dirt. There were a few bits left that would be of use. My compact bow was still in there, a little bent, but still useable. The arrows that went with it were there too, and that filled me with a little hope. A single one of my swords sat in it’s sheath, but the sheath itself was really battered. It would almost certainly no longer sit on my back, and I would be lucky to get it to hang at my side. At least now I had something.

Anything. I still wasn’t sure what was out there, be it friendly or hostile, but it was always a little calming to at least have an extra card in my deck if I needed it. The rest of the contents were, at the very least, usable. A single 9-banger. A single concussion too. It would be useful in case I came across something beyond my own ability to handle.

Finally, something else dropped into the dirt. It’s glossy black polish thrust a lance made of pure fear into my heart.

“So that’s what it feels like to be on the other end of that thing”

I was looking right into the faux facial presence of my own operational mask. It’s finish, still shiny as the last time I slid it over my own face. And now, it only filled me with hatred. As far as I was concerned, it was a relic. A part of my life that I wanted nothing to do with anymore. I reached down to pick it up, hauling it over my shoulder so I could sling it into the distance without a second thought.

And out of the corner of my eye, I saw something that made me still my hand, and gently bring it back down so I could look back into the face of the angel of death, as so many others had done in the past.

There was a crack. Almost unnoticeable, but there. Right at the top . It hadn’t affected the structural integrity of the mask itself at all, but it spoke to me. It spoke to something deep within my heart, probably to ears that, until last night, would’ve been all but deaf to it’s message.

“This is who you were. This is the mask you wore. Every time you put it on, you became someone else. Someone created to bring fear and terror to any who stood in your way. But that crack. That crack says something. It shows that you have realised what you have done. What repercussions your actions have had. In doing this, you have broken away part of that mask, that faux image you clung to for a feeling of safety, and maybe, when all is said and done, you will have torn away every strip of who you were, and will be able to expose who you REALLY are on the inside. And that will be your true mask. And those who stand against you will fear you more than they ever did before.”

It took a while for this all to settle in. When I came back to my senses, I realised that at least ten minutes had passed, while I stared on in quiet contemplation. The silence comforted me. Not in a combat sense, as it had previously, but it did so in the knowledge that I was, at least I hoped, on the way to becoming something different. Something new.

All of a sudden, that peace was torn asunder by a bloodcurdling scream of fear, which made me jump out of my skin. I had no idea what, or who had made such a sound of unbridled horror, but I did know one thing.

It sure as fuck was not me. I was not alone out here.

Again, another scream rang forth, showering what looked like birds from the trees, as they spread their wings and took flight into the clear skies.

I decided I had to act quickly. I had spent the better part of a day thinking I was alone out here, and it was about time I found some company. I donned my sword, hanging it from my left side, as well as draping my arrows over my back. I slid the two tactical grenades into the pockets in my combat trousers, and, grabbing my bow in my left hand, I realised I had only one more thing I needed to do.

I slid the mask back on. But this was not the mask of a killer. No. No longer. As I was hopefully about to prove, this would be the mask of a saviour......