Devil's Due the flip side of the coin

Author's note: So yeah more learning about his personalty and past. Also him getting a damn break.

We all did shit we were not proud of and tried to bury it, but sometimes it just says with you or becomes you.

Well more on that story as this one goes on...

The sun’s warm light bathed my face with its warmth. My eyes started to open little by little as birds chirped in the distance. My eyes finally opened to allow me a less restricted view on my surroundings. I saw that I was on the floor of a rather nicely furnished bedroom, laid across a mattress only barely breaking the six foot mark. I sat up to stretch my arms, and as I did so I felt a pain in my right shoulder. “Ow fuck.” I said as I rubbed my left hand against the feeling of fresh bandages.

I started to survey the room. I saw an electric lamp, a bookcase filled to the brim with medical texts ‘Well at least my heroes speak English’ and other humanoid made objects just smaller. ‘I am not in Kansas anymore.’ I continued to marvel at how small everything was. ‘Aww, five by three bed. How tiny are these people? At least they’re not the size of those super chickens.’ Then I saw my gear neatly laid on a chair. Ghillie suit draped over the back, just a large chunck of the forest in my eyes. My weapons and backpack set up against the right front leg of the chair.

As I looked at my gear, I noticed a piece of paper on the table next to my things. I stood up wobbly, as blood started to flow through my still-asleep legs. I started to walk over to the note in hopes of some answers. I made it to the table and began to read the note.

*************************************************************************************

I was worried when you were dropped off in front of my door by a passing carriage. I am sorry if I could not be there to see to you. I went to get medicine for Germaneigh. Please make yourself at home.

Best wishes,

Golden Heart

*************************************************************************************

‘German… eigh? Someone needs to spell check.’ I said while I put on my gear. I walked much better with the little movement that I got in. I thought about my next move hoping to have some spontaneous moment of genius and figure out where I was. Unfortunately I was interrupted by my growling stomach. ‘Well, I could stay a while.’ I proceeded out the door to a hallway leading to a flight of stairs going down a level. As I walked down the hallway, I saw many pictures along the walls. But they were strange, the pictures where of animals as though they lived the life shown.

The pictures told a story of a gray unicorn with brown hair with what looked like the Red Cross symbol of his side hind leg. ‘At this point, kind of used to the weird…’ They showed him at his earliest years, then at a small red school house, a graduation, pictures of another one I guessed to be female with them holding each other, him in front of a hospital, the couple from pictures passed with little ponies around them, them in the later years, and then finally the female one only a little older looking now and alone.

As I made it down to the bottom of the stairs I looked around the home. The home was a cozy ranch house with a large floor plan. The lamps and other appliances show they have some electricity here. ‘Their relationship with technology is schizophrenic at best.’ My stomach rumbled again. I headed off to what looked like a kitchen.

The floor was made up of laminated tiles and the walls covered in a comforting floral design. The cabinets were made of wood. I saw a small white fridge tucked away in the corner. I walked over to grab something to eat. I was well stocked with all types of vegan like food. There were eggs, but that was the extent of my savior’s carnivorous tendencies. I grabbed three eggs, a jug of milk and a stick of butter. I loaded everything into my arms then set it all on the counter next to a gas stove top.

I searched the wooden cabinets for a bowl, found many plates and something more. A cabinet full of all manner of bottles and cans of alcohol. ‘That… that’s just beautiful.’ I started to just grab any within reach and mind you it was only like five feet off the ground. I disregarded the ingredients to make that I set out and just walked into another room.

I plopped down onto a small couch that to me was more like a big love seat and kicked my feet up on the tiny coffee table in front of me. I began to drink… and drink… and drink. By the time I finished my arm-full of booze, I wasn’t even buzzed. It looked like a frat party had exploded. Bottles and cans lined the area around me like a fortress of alcoholism. ‘I must have reached some nirvana state of drinking… got to drink more just to be sure.’ I walked back into the kitchen. This time I took all the cans and bottles in the cabinet and tried my hardest to get thrashed…

After ten cans of beer, three bottles of ‘Apple Jack Daniels(?)’ and anything else I could stomach, I still really did not feel any different. But the house was now very much different. Its floor lined with the cans, bottles and other things I drank. The mess was just awful and I would have cleaned it up, but I found something more interesting. While I searched for the bathroom I happened on a locked door.

The door looked too enticing to pass up. I pulled my knife out and pressed it against the lock and hammered it once with my fist. The delightful noise of the tumbler breaking was accompanied by the door slowly opening inward. ‘Well at least that still works.’ I pushed the door in slowly and stepped in to see a study. Well it looked like a study. Shelves of full books lined its walls, a small wooden desk stood in the very middle, a window on the left that illuminated the room with a grandfather clock on the right. The desk had a lamp on it along with a blank sheet of paper and a quill next to some ink. But my eye was drawn more to a large parchment that hung behind the desk. I walked closer to see it better.

It was a map. It showed the Griffon Kingdoms ‘Well I am not going back there soon.’ Germaneigh and other random plays on location names from my world. ‘Did a five year old draw this? No… too neat. Damn is this place just a cruel joke on me?’ I took the map and folded it to put it in my bag.

I stepped over and looked through the window, was still light out. I looked at my watch and set it to the time on the grandfather clock ten a.m. I looked at the paper on the desk feeling bad about the fact I planned on leaving before they got back. I sat at the desk to write something down.

*************************************************************************************

Dear Umm… who ever

I am sorry about the door to your study. I will pay for that later. Drank all your booze too. I’m not too sorry because it was watered down or something, so it’s like I did you a favor. I cleaned up most of the mess I have made and left to go to the capital.

Hope you’re not mad,

Alex Litivnova

*************************************************************************************

With that out of the way, I head out the study and all the way back to the kitchen to start. Ok so I did a pretty half-assed cleanup effort but hey, I tried. After I gathered some of what I left all over the home, I stopped at the bathroom for a last pee break.

I entered  the bathroom and it was like a horror story. I was a big guy like Ryan, only not as heavy but just as tall. The room was cramped. The toilet and bath were way smaller than I was used to. Thank god I did not have to shit, because I think I would have either clogged it or smashed it. I finished my pee break and headed back out the door. I walked a short ways and found myself before the way outside. I opened the door and set off again into the noontime sunlight.

***

I wandered down the road from the ranch home for a long while. I felt as if I had walked for miles. I checked my watch, only three o clock. I pressed down the lonesome road devoid of life. The road was utterly silent as I walked. My mind began to wonder into the memories of past, to pass the time.

*************************************************************************************

I wiped a tear from my left eye. Both of my eyes were tearing up. I had been staring intently out the side of an aircraft for more than an hour at the endless mountains and small valleys with even smaller villages within them. I did not stare at this less than hospitable landscape because I was sightseeing; it was my job and the jobs of at least eight other men.

I was into the second hour of a routine hunt flight. A helo-borne search-and-destroy operation. This was when a recon unit, or in my case a P.M.C. Wet-work team, would board a Blackhawk and, with cover from a Cobra Gunship, would conduct an aerial patrol over the unit’s area of responsibility. This was done to intercept enemy resupply transports, which included any pedestrian, pack animal or motorized traffic that was not using officially designated roads in the area or was out past curfew.

Or that was what was I told officially. Unofficially we really just did raids against any targets outside of U.S. jurisdiction. Towns, civilians, VIP exfil and assassinations were our area of responsibility. A long time ago, such a thing as a job would have repulsed me, but by now I knew I can do more from the shadows to win wars far more than under politicians. Got paid better too and that certainly helps.

The resupply Caravans usually had big payoffs for us in weapons and from higher ups. The variety of trophies was rather wide everything from rockets to rifles, RPGs to Italian anti-tank mines. Each successful hit meant several less rocket attacks, convoy ambushes and IED explosions, which meant less loss of U.S. and our own lives.

We saw a caravan 400 meters in the distance, usually they did not go into this zone because we had free fire orders, it was a two camel caravan with a five-man escort. The Cobra’s gun feint was as effective signal for them to stop. The escort started to run, they soon realized that could be misconstrued, so they stopped and raised their arms. The Blackhawk dropped us as an inspection group. Me and the team off within 50 meters distance of the caravan. The team consisted of two SAW gunners, our radioman armed with an AKS 74 with Gp-25 underbarrel grenade launcher, a squad interpreter armed with an M4 and myself with my trusty SVD that, at this range, was more like a battle rifle than a sniper rifle.

The Cobras continued to hover around us to provide cover as needed. The interpreter was first to make contact with the escort. He yelled for them to get on their knees in Arabic. They reluctantly obeyed by dropping to the ground and putting their hands behind their heads.

The interpreter began to search the contents of one of the camel’s packs. I stared at the escort through the sights of my gun never taking a chance. I lost too many people to take any chances. They looked to be about in their thirties all of them. None of them however were wearing any weapons or ammo, not even a knife between them. The interpreter and squad leader spoke out against the wind blowing gently across the sands in the background.

“We have ourselves a couple of Muj there.” He smirked while pulling what had to be a relic and not a weapon; he pulled out a Lee Enfield and then some RPG rockets.

“Looks like a couple of sympathizers to me. And we do have our orders.” He said as he raised his M4 to the back of the head of one of the escorts with one hand so causally.

All the men were now pleading, begging and trying to get him to stop. But it was in vain. We had our orders, so he simply replied in a cold voice.

“Line up.” Once again in Arabic.

They stood up shaking with fear and adrenaline. They were herded over to the right side facing towards their begotten cargo by the two SAW gunners…

************************************************************************************

I looked up at the sky. It was gonna be dark soon, so I better settle in for the night. I had covered a good amount of distance in a few-hour’s walk. I looked about the side of the road and saw an abandoned campsite. The fire was dying down yet still looked so inviting. I walked over to it. I proceeded to grab some brush and sticks from the trees around me to feed the flames, but noticed a newspaper on the ground near a small log. Headline read like something I never thought would’ve happened, even in fairy tale land.

*************************************************************************************

Newly found creature saves town!

A strange creature armed with stranger weapons has saved Ponyville. He defended the town from an onslaught of Changelings, after he killed roughly thirty of the creatures in an in suing battle. A local guardsman had this to say, “If it were not for Ryan we might all not be here right now.” As reports flood in many say that this Ryan was armed with a strange device that made a tremendous noise as it fired.

*************************************************************************************

A picture from the battle is posted below.

The picture was of Ryan? He was wearing a black suit with the symbol of a M1911 firing over hundreds of shell casings emblazed on it. He stood there with a G36c he one handed pointing into the face of one of those black creatures I ran into in the underground. It was him, it had to be him.

As I placed more wood onto the now lively fire, I was consumed by the thought I may have something in this strange place from home. ‘Even if he looks different now.’ I would have pressed on forward to try to find him, but that was a task for tomorrow.

I had let the fire die down. I laid down a makeshift bed from things in my bag. I lied there tossing and turning, but eventually stopped. I dreamed smiling at the thoughts of seeing him or anyone else again. I soon fell fast asleep beside the glow of the dying flames.