"Time is an illusion, and so is death."
The calmness of nonexistence can't really be understated, or exaggerated. Free floating in an endless void of black and nothingness has its perks, notably the lack of coherent thoughts and feelings. Or maybe that was a con, I couldn't tell you myself.
I don't know how long I spent there, waiting, watching, dying and being torn limb from limb endlessly and painlessly in the darkness. The human brain tends to adjust after long periods of time spent in darkness, with a known phenomenon that compensates for the lack of vision where the brain will hallucinate things. Somewhat relevant to this, the human brain has also evolved to be able to recognize other human faces with advanced pattern recognition, even seeing faces in things like clouds and treebark.
Now those two things on their own are not worrysome, but combine the two and it becomes a problematic scenario to stay entrenched in total darkness for eons and seconds. My eyes never opened, but I saw. There wasn't sound, but I heard. I couldn't touch, but I felt. The things that passed through me and the things that I could hear around me as I drifted through an endless universe of blinding darkness.
I couldn't quite understand what was happening or where I was, and even if I did I doubt I could comprehend it. Something like a realm outside of life but not death, if that was what death was... maybe it was hell. I couldn't tell you how long I spent there, it could've been seconds or months, it was all a blur. Then I felt a sensation like falling, falling with no wind passing by you, only the indication that your balance has shifted and you aren't upright.
And my eyes opened.
I fully came to with a gasp, bolting upright and clutching a balled fist against my chest, against the plate carrier. My eyes burned, adjusting to the piercing light as the realization instantly clicked in my head. I looked at my hands and to my body, absent of all pain and marring scorches that were sure to be there. One of my hands refused to open, feeling it clutch something tightly as I did my best to release the death grip I had against it.
Eventually the locked up limb acquiesced and opened finger by finger, letting me see a torn and battered shred of a uniform collar with a mangled Gunnery Sergeant pin still stuck to it. I blanched, my other hand rushing to clutch my head as I stared wide eyed at the pin that brought it all back in full.
"..James.."
I tore my eyes away from the pin with a shivering breath, stuffing it into my pocket quickly as I focused on anything else. I don't know what I expected to see, but it definitely wasn't what I was dealt. Before, all that surrounded me was sparse green and luscious sand, mixed with the occasional destroyed home or vehicle. Now..?
Now there was a vibrant forest which seemed to dance with the sun. And that sun! It felt like God herself crawled against me for a night of fun, every band of light feeling like a cool drink of water. My hands moved to remove the strap holding my helmet against my head, then dropping the said piece of gear to my side. The short cropped hair on my head let me feel more of that golden ray all on me, and fuck was it good.
Basically prying myself to another topic of concern, I was in a forest. It doesn't make much sense to me either. I looked down again, this time focusing on surroundings more than myself, and noticed that a massive circle around me was seemingly charred black with fire, and I was directly in the center. If this was heaven, God had a sick sense of humour.
To my immediate left, I see my helmet sitting in the blackened grass and reach out to grab it, my eyes spotting my M27 a little further off in the burned patch. I reapplied my helmet to my scrabbly head and groaned as I rose to my knees, then to my feet shakily. I put one foot in front of the other, a sudden visage of being unable to move my legs entirely flashing through my head. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I pushed onward. One foot in front of the other.
I eventually managed to reach my rifle, picking it up by the grip and letting my other hand find it's way to the radio on the left side of my plate carrier, turning it back on as I fished around for my compass and map tools. Deciding it was probably best to find the edge of the forest and maybe settlement, North West was the chosen direction. I returned my items to their respective areas, and started walking. I stopped at the edge of the burned area and looked back toward the center, then I left.
My body didn't feel sore, didn't even ache. It was like one moment in sheer agony then the next in relative normalcy. The adrenaline of the situation was beginning to wear off as I move through some actually decently forested area. Undergrowth was plentiful here but nothing I couldn't step over or around as of yet. It felt a lot brighter in this forest than it should have been, the treetops were nearly full coverage but I could see as if they weren't there at all.
I was on full alert in this place, I felt somewhat uneasy to just be here, let alone the circumstances of what brought me here. I was fairly sure I was dead, and this was some kind of afterlife. If that was the truth it was pretty shitty, considering I still felt most of what I felt back on Earth. To be fair, descriptions of heaven were almost always vague and left up to individual interpretation, so this place being shitty made a nominal amount of sense.
The thought that I was dead was.. slightly discomforting, maybe? I didn't know how to feel, I was prepared for it on a lot of occasions, but the problem I took with this was just how sudden and... off it felt. Things like that don't happen, getting an odd feeling before a sudden shift is something that only happens in the movies. And... James.
Don't think about it. Just don't think about it.
Fuck. No point in trying to dodge this one. That was undeniably the uncontested champion for worst times in my entire life. And I've experienced some shitty fucking times. James was... fuck!
I was angry, and it showed in my demeanor. The forest was my natural habitat, the place I always felt most comfortable. But right now? I just wanted to burn it to the ground. I was.. furious, and I couldn't tell you any reason as to why. I never got angry like this, even with extreme emotional duress.
After a moment of bathing in my own emotions and anger I let my rifle drop to my chest, held by my sling as I held my head in my heads and fell to my knees. "WHY GODDAMNIT? WHY HIM? AND WHY THE FUCKING WEEK BEFORE I WAS OUT? DO YOU TAKE YOUR SICK PERVERTED PLEASURE ON WATCHING YOUR PAWNS BREAK ON YOUR FUCKING KNEE?!"
It hurt, more than anything it just hurt. I felt that boiling rage start to go away after the only mental episode I'd had in a long time started to come to a close. I let my arms fall to my sides and I just sat there for a few minutes. The forest got real quiet after that, and I couldn't blame a single one of those critters for staying quiet and out of my way. Or at least, that's the original thought I had.
After a few moments of sitting there I finally collected myself with a sigh, I realized why the forest had gone more than silent. And it probably wasn't because of my stupid screaming. I heard a quiet crunch of leaflitter to my far left, and turning my head to scan the area I could see what I thought were glowing green objects of some kind moving around behind the undergrowth. I looked a bit closer and I realized that they were eyes, staring right at me.
Now typically I associate anomalous glowing eyes with animals about to strike a target, and that's mostly only because of the trope in TV and movies, predators wouldn't have glowing eyes that would be fucking stupid. Nonetheless, I figured that I had overstayed my welcome and decided to move the fuck away from my current position and into something that might be better for a fight, cause if that shit turned out to be a predator I wanted to know what it was before I was jumped.
I got up and kept my front to those moving eyes, never letting it see my back as I held the rifle up at low ready. I was right about one thing, the critters in the forest were quiet because of me. What I also didn't realize is that they were also led right to me. Something something 'get down, shut up.'
I moved backwards at a decent pace before the eyes disappeared, my conviction returning to me as I scribbled out a rudimentary plan of attack. Grab the compass and check heading North, move North, get the fuck out of this shitty forest. I started moving again and picked up my pace to a decent jog, I hated going fast in full kit but I also didn't like being in enemy territory where they had the home turf advantage.
I had to keep my head on a swivel as I hurriedly moved across plants, branches, rotting leaf litter, typical forest floor flora. I was kicking up a lot of noise in my trail as I moved, but it was negligible at the moment. The most important thing was to maintain situational awareness, fall back on the training. C'mon Joe you got this.
Around that time I spotted a decent little grove of denser trees, more clustered together than what I'd been running through previously. I changed my heading right for it, hopefully getting some decent cover in the process from whatever the hell had spotted me earlier.
I did the one thing you shouldn't do when moving away from a threat, look behind yourself. Prowling fifty meters back were those damned eyes again, and there were more. Even my seemingly enhanced vision couldn't make out their shape in the undergrowth, they were too camouflaged with the surroundings. Native fauna, goddamnit.
Just as I noticed them, I'd made it into the edge of the grove of clustered trees, they even looked a little thicker than the ones before too. Must be an older part of the forest, that or intentionally planted for some reason. I made my way just behind the grove a few meters in, looking outwards at where I suspected the threats would come from, and come they did.
I spotted a good ten pairs of those eyes out prowling, and even through the nice bright environment, and it was time to go to work. I flicked the safety off the rifle and shouldered it up. C'mon you fucks, show me what you really are. I didn't have to wait long before a lone scout of sorts ventured away from a large bush and into where I could get a decent look, and fuck me it was something I'd never seen before.
It looked like a wooden dog, or more accurately a dog that was simply made of the forest itself. It wasn't terribly big, so I assume it had to be younger of sorts. He sniffed the air and then pointed his nose towards my position, and that was the last thing I let him do before putting two quick shots of 5.56 through his dome piece, accidentally blowing the entirety of his head apart in the process.
That seemed to spur a bit more of a volatile reaction in the other green eyes, hearing a rounding chorus of howls from their approximate position. Hearing wolf howls in the distance was always cool when I was out camping, but being this close to a pack when they yelled out was fucking terrifying, I readied myself for more and I saw multiple more of the bastards run out from their concealment.
Two from the left sprinted straight from where they'd heard my gunfire, and three more on the right were running trying to get behind me. I chose to quickly spin towards the left to deal with the immediate threat and dumped three rounds into the leading dog, blowing out most of its neck and spine in the process, switching to the other which had gotten to within ten meters before I stopped it literally dead in it's tracks with one perfect shot. Fuck I'm good.
I heel turned around to the right to get eyes on with the three that had tried to flank me, but I missed their position. I got a bit lower to the ground on one knee, scanning my environment while keeping a close count on how much ammo I'm expending here. To the right I heard a snarl and I nearly got jumped by one that had snuck right onto my position, managing to combat roll at the last possible second before it was on me. I had a bad grip on my rifle and missed the opportunity to bring it to bear, pulling out my M9 pistol and banging off four wild shots to the dog that was damn near on top of me.
Fortunately, like I said, I was good. I managed to pass rifle and pistol courses with expert shooter on both, so at least I had that going for me. The one that jumpscared me got put down with two nine mil rounds to the face and torso, getting it's innards blown across a tree trunk.. it kinda blended together though.
I groaned and returned the pistol to it's holster and got back to my feet, another howl ringing around the surrounding area like a metaphorical fog. I just brought my rifle to bear and started swinging my head around to locate the source of it, which at that point was indeterminable.
Finally, I spotted a set of eyes out of the corner of my vision, and they were rapidly approaching me. Boom, headshot. I flicked the rifle up and popped a round which missed it's target as the dog wheeled around and dodged my line of sight. Followed near behind him were two more, splitting off him and dividing my attention between them. Never a dull moment, I chose the group with two dogs and fired off three more shorts which whizzed around and hit the lead in the side, which made the damn thing let out a satisfying and ethereal howl of pain.
Fucken' things, I heard growls roll around my general vicinity and the last two made their presence known. The rushed me from both sides and I chose the nearest one to take the brunt of my rounds, putting four quick shots to bring it down before I got tackled with the force of a massive wooden dog against my back.
It brought me chest first to the dirt and I felt it try to bite down on the small of my back, getting abruptly stopped by the back plate I had before it whimpered at a probable chipped tooth. "Karma's a bitch ain't it fucker?!" I rolled around onto my ass, in the process knocking the stunned dog off and putting two more 5.56 rounds into it's own torso.
I scanned around and saw no more targets, didn't hear anything either. I took in a few calming breathes to keep the adrenaline down as best I could, not totally at ease yet. I sat there for a few more minutes at low ready before finally deciding it was fine to take a breather.
I laid my back against one of the thick trees and looked at the tree dog things that I'd put down. I was almost certainly dead, shit like that would not have evolved and lived anywhere on Earth. They didn't even bleed, just died. I licked my lips, this shit was the proof I was in high fantasy afterlife land.
With a shake of my head I collected my things and stood up, checking my mags and ammo. Only had seven mags for the rifle and five for the pistol, had to conserve this until I could find a place to get more, if there even was one. I looked around and started picking up my casings, might as well.
Fifteen 5.56 cases, and six 9mm. I must be getting sloppy if it took that many fucken' bullets to deal with some dogs. I pocketed the rounds and started to jog at a decent pace the same direction I was headed previously, hopefully getting well out of the audible range those shots were in. I didn't want to waste any more ammo today, especially on woodland critters that I didn't know shit about.
With that fun realization, I decided to move straight West to see about getting the H-E-Double-Fuck out of this godforsaken area. Maybe I'll revisit the forest again after I actually surmise my situation, but for the time being I needed intel and I needed it pretty damn bad. So onward I walked, hopefully to explanations.
Somewhere far away from a dark and decrepit forest, laid a shining city against a sprawling mountain, built right into that earthen marvel that pierced the heaven. This city, by all accounts, was a wonder the world over. From this marble palace atop a literal mountain of beauty, rested the ruler of the free world. Or at least that was the picture that they wished to project to the globe at large.
Really, the monarch that reigned over this land ruled with a subtle iron hoof. Her word was law, and her vision was fire. There were hushed rumors of a hellfire like fury raining down on poor unfortunate souls who truly crossed their lord regent, and were thusly never seen or heard from again. But those were just rumors.
Most evil deals are performed not in the light, nor even the dusk, but when it is black as night and shadowed in deep and dreamless darkness. It's a natural assumption for the uninitiated, at least. Not for the shining city against a mountain though, that's what was so ingenious about it. Who would think to search their benevolent ruler for potential misdeeds and atrocities while they preached supposed virtues of harmony and righteousness?
It was sheer brilliance really. No one was immune to propaganda, after all. And it had been a long reign of propaganda for a thousand years, making sure the forces of the Nightmare were hounded as traitors and bigots for the beliefs they held and the cause they fought for. The Lunar wars that were fought resulted in this outcome, and it had been a calculated outcome at that. It was wrought with risk, of course, but Celestia had triumphed over what little threat there was.
Now? It was barely any resistance at all. There was an occasional zealot to the enemy forces radicalized by her own Harmonious forces, but it was nothing they couldn't handle. It was near strategic in the way she crushed these individuals, making sure She held no power base when she returned. And it was inevitable that she would return, due to a split second error in her otherwise perfect plan.
Long had she lamented that error, long had it been the bane of her existence. So tiresome was the work to remove Her influence from her ponies, it was exhausting. But now.. no one even recalled a time when it was a diarchy. It truly was a stroke of brilliance.
Today would be a good day, and a good step towards further progress in the militarization of outer regions of the country, seeing as a border dispute had occurred recently enough to pose a troublesome thorn in the neck. The Amarezonians always were an annoying sect of equines and abominations, one which she couldn't excuse all out military action on the world stage as of yet.
So there she sat, her own personal office being the room of choice for various work and busywork while waiting for the various parties to enter for the assigned meeting time. Wouldn't be long now, glancing at the sun high in the sky shining down, she could think of no better metaphor.
It would be truly perfect to have that annoyance one and for all out of the way, and it will be so soon which she could finally scratch the itch that had been bugging her for a literal millennia. Just have to wait, always the waiting. She felt the long familiar spill of vitriolic fire of anger into her blood, but practiced ease allowed her to cool it off with the machinations she'd put into place. Soon.
A tap on the door fully brought her out of her own head, and the guard at the door alerted her to the arrival of the two ponies she had been expecting. "Your Majesty, Colonel Heart Fire and Sir Hard Bargain to see you."
She nodded and adopted the outwardly friendly and welcoming aura she projected, rising to greet the two stallions which would prove essential to putting further infrastructure into the North. "Welcome, ponies. I'm very glad to see you both here safe for this meeting. I trust the journey was not rough to you?"
They both seemed to bask in her presence, nodding affirmative before the Colonel spoke up. "Of course not, Princess. And thank you again for choosing us to be the ones in charge of your proposal."
Good answer.
"Think nothing of it Colonel Fire, you were both simply the best for the job." The larger white pony led them to the seats they'd take, finding her place back behind her own desk.
"Now, to business gentlecolts. I recognize the ongoing hostility with the Amarezonian region as a problem, and look to you both for the solution I have to this particular problem." She steered the conversation straight towards business, beginning to lay out the plans for a military fortification along the Appleloosan mountains and Macintosh hills. It was a strategic region, the basis of which was the natural border between Equestria and the divided nations to the South.
She carefully selected the Colonel and this business-colt for their influence in the region, Hard Bargain driving much of the railways through Southern Equestria and managing a profit while doing so. It was brilliant, and his assistance in gaining the necessary resources to where they'd need to go would prove crucial if this venture was to play out correctly. Colonel Fire though, he was the key.
His line hailed from Amarezonia, and became an experienced officer garrisoning and fighting various threats in forward bases deployed in the area. Yes, he would be the crucial lynch-pin of the operation when those bothersome thorns finally fell, and he might even make for a half decent puppet governor, too.
The discussion was long and arduous, but it went off perfectly. All parties present were promised great things, and magic was in the metaphorical air. Celestia waved them off, dismissing the meeting and turning to look out the great window behind her. She had a perfect overlook to the West, watching the setting sun over the slanted city of Canterlot
The times ahead would come together perfectly to suit her plan, she just knew it. On the eve of the one-thousandth year, the stars will not only aid in her sister's escape, but her demise as well.
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, 'yer gonna burn like the rest of us darlin."
The day began the same way they did ninety-nine percent of the time. Wake up at Five thirty AM in the goddamn morning and do the daily flag formation with the boys, then move on to PT and work for the day. This was the semi-normal routine that Company B fell into during their deployment, and boy was it boring as shit.
For the last five months the number one prevailing fact of life was boredom. You resorted to the absolute dumbest things possible to simply entertain yourself, any object turning into something to stem the tide of sheer unadulterated agony that was sitting around and waiting.
Occasionally, there would be something that happened that was decidedly not boring, and in the best cases it would turn out to be a civilian at the gate to the FOB or something trivial that didn't end in total disaster. Worst cases...? We have a vacancy in a bunk. That usually didn't happen, and the less you think about it the better.
Sometimes if we were really unlucky it meant leaving the wire to do COINOPs, or simple routine patrols around our particular slice of hell. Talking with the locals who hated you, who you absolutely knew were responsible for a few of those empty bunks. It made my blood boil, but I kept the lid on it for the most part. Aggression was good, but not for talking to civilians.
In totality, I lost six marines that deployment, and we didn't get any replacements. Fine by me, I already had those names burned into my brain.. among other places. No, life here overall was hot, boring, and full of paper pushing. Let no glorious war movie change that detail, war isn't hell, the waiting is.
But like I was saying, mornings are almost always the same. The only thing different about today was the impending sense of doom present throughout the FOB, and it was primarily due to First Platoon's lust for destroying their vehicles and stealing everyone else's. People started calling them 'Reverse Robin Hood Platoon' for appropriating resources from the poor and giving to themselves. It bothered me.
The impending doom was from the fact we had to drive our happy asses over their and either fix a destroyed MRAP or give them one of ours. Fucken' supply Captain has been shafting this company on purpose, I swear it. That, or logi has just been particularly shit this time of year.
In any case, I made sure to have two squads start setting up our gallant trip through the desert to our sister platoon's current residence, roughly seventy kliks to the East or so. The last squad would stay back at home with James, my platoon sergeant, to make sure no unfriendly faces managed to raid my damn cookie cupboard.
I stepped out of the entrenched position just left of the center of the FOB where most of our communications equipment and the CCP resided, letting Fourth know that we'd be there later on in a few hours to hopefully fix their shit again. On my way out I picked up the rifle that you kept by your side at all times, of course, and started to make my way to where the MRAPs were lined up for the convoy.
Spotting pretty much the only person I actually wanted to talk to at the moment, I sauntered up to him and tapped him on the back of the kevlar helmet he was wearing. "Sloppy, Sergeant. If that was a 7.62 round you'd be dead already."
The man in question wanted to flip me off, I saw the particular look in his eyes, but instead he sighed and just turned to face me. "Right. Good afternoon to you too LT. I assume you'll come back home later with the kids in one piece?"
I let the rifle drop against my vest as I held my hands on my hips. "I dunno, might drop 'em off at daycare and take a spa day. Just one of those days, you feel me?"
He snickered and pushed me by the shoulder towards one of the vics in the middle of the lined up convoy. "Get goin Gray, 'yer wasting all 'yer energy on sarcasm again. I'll keep this place under watch while you're gone."
I nodded and gave him a wave as I moved to one of the armored vehicles' passenger side, opening the massive door and stepping up and into the behemoth truck. I gave the driver the thumbs up and got on the radio, signing on to convoy net and finally getting this rolling shitshow on the move.
The first truck pulled out of the somewhat small FOB and off we went, hopefully returning to a very much still not smoking base and not the alternative. Don't think about it.
Afghanistan was... Afghanistan. You go back home and you'll get asked 'oh my gosh what was it like?', 'did you kill anyone?', 'how was war?' Other nonsense too, I'm sure. Truth is it's mostly just shitty desert, with shitty people living in shitty mudhuts. You go there once and you've seen everything it has to offer, from AKs to mortars and IEDs. Sometimes you'd see greenery, or big ass mountains, destroyed vehicles and small communities. Mostly though it was just fucking sand and soil.
Soil that was particularly good for growing opium, apparently. I wasn't aware of that before actually shipping out here, the thriving drug market out here. The farmers practically have one way of life, growing this shit and selling it off to whoever will actually pay for it. Another officer in the battalion told me one of his Marines got hooked on the shit, but personally that raw opium is absolutely fucking rancid, no idea how someone can consciously consume that more than once.
I took this time to think about the plan for our next real patrol around the area, supposed to be in a day or two now. We'd had trouble with reported fighters in our province for a few weeks now, even taking a few shots to the walls of our compound. If being in a very specific position day in day out, when they know exactly where you are, but you don't know shit about where or who they are makes you uncomfortable, don't join the Marines.
Best case is we go around, remove some explosives or illegal stashes, and go home a few hours later tired and sweaty. Worst case...? Don't think about it. Definitely don't think about it.
Along that particular fun train of thought, I looked down to a scar running along the top of my wrist and further up my arm, currently covered by the sleeve of my uniform. Shit, already been a year. I forcefully dragged my face away from that and out the armored window, using a hand to dig through a pocket to grab a pack of cigarettes, sticking one in between my lips. My Marines weren't allowed to smoke in vics, and I practiced what I preached. I just liked feeling it there.
"Ey look, LTs' in one of 'The Moods'."
The voice of my driver, Louise Basilone, caught my ear as I turned my eyes to look over at him. Nevermind the two other snarkily smirking Marines riding just behind me.
"Oh what is it this time, cigarette and window?"
That was our doc, 'supposedly' on loan from the Navy to make sure we got our Motrin and fresh socks. Ethan McCollum, he was a damn good corpsmen too, think I got a cut once and he gave me a proper bandaid for it.
"Yeah looks like it Doc, personally I'm feelin great though fellas. You know, I wonder what fuckery those asshats in Fourth are doing right now."
And that was the final member of my current entourage, Daniel Ramirez. He was allegedly Native American and Spanish, but he couldn't prove either of those claims.
For now I just let them banter while I shifted back up in my seat, moving my arm into their view. "You know, as a great man once said, RAH."
Only a split second passes after I utter that word in the gayest possible way before the other three return back in a similar chorus, leaving me snickering in my seat as I make sure the radio was still in working order. "Good job boys, still got it."
"Yeah yeah LT, anyway I heard about this rockin' band back hom-" I started tuning Ramirez out after that, he usually can't be standed for long. It was a wonder he was a Corporal at all.
The rest of the fifty or so kilometer drive didn't take very long, even if the lead vic stopped or slowed to identify rough terrain or potential IEDs. It was a simple drive, no contacts and no heartache for the moment. Entering Fourth's FOB was easy, simple intrance and we got to work looking at the severely fucked MRAP we either came to try and fix or ditch entirely. And yeah, it was fucked. My mechanic took one look at the thing and just shook his head, walking back to our own truck.
Looked like a five hundred pound artillery shell exploded underneath it, which damnwell might have actually been the case, I asked the Sergeant who was there at the time what exactly happened, and he said something about miraculously not losing anyone. Amazing, one less letter no one had to write.
After staying for approximately too fucking long and being accosted by a random Marine I'd never met before, I decided it was exactly the time to leave and go home. Leaving one of my own MRAPs here because fuck me I guess, Fourth can't even be bothered to take care of their own shit, we start the pack up to leave. Before getting people packed up and reassigned minus one truck, the Sergeant in charge of the FOB made his way up to me.
He forewent the salute and just casually stepped up to my side, and I noted the Gunnery Sergeant pin on his collar. "Sir. Sorry for being the annoyance to the Company again. Capt'n Jesse seems to have a hatred for giving us our actual supplies... which is particularly annoying for the supposed 'logi platoon.'"
I sigh and look away from him and to the preparing-to-leave convoy. "Yeah. It's fine, Gunny. Ugh, listen, just owe us one again and I'll see what I can do about 'yer logi issues."
"Aye sir. If you talk to Major Powers soon tell him to stop issuing assignment orders for new LTs. Three have died this deployment already. I put in a complaint form but... well it doesn't really work."
I looked back into his seemingly exhausted eyes. "I'll see what I can do... and, for what it's worth, I miss Bradshaw too."
After that, I moved off to join the convoy as we departed, leaving quicker than we came really. We mingled for a bit but it was business business business. Signing papers to make sure we had a record of transfer for the MRAP, signing more paper to make sure it was understood that the skullfucked MRAP was completely skullfucked. It was, for lack of a better term, aids.
It's hard to explain the almost calm anxiety you get outside the wire in a country like this, even with inches of bulletproof armor between you and the open air. It was relaxing, it was nerve wracking, and exciting for all of ten minutes before, yes, the inevitable boredom. It was at that precise moment I got an evil glint in my eye, turning around to face Ramirez.
"Hey Ramirez, how's the family?"
Two out of the four people in the vehicle groaned quite loudly before Ramirez started piping up. "OH! So glad of you to ask LT! Well-"
Somewhere else, in a deep dark crypt in another time entirely, two robed figured cloaked in the dank air moved towards a rocky outcropping in the surface of the tunnel's wall they were in. Pressing harshly on a concealed trigger, the wall hissed and sparked, moving out and away revealing the hidden passageway the figures sought.
The pair trotted into the now gaping passageway hidden from the main cave they were already in, long since dormant or dead torches on the walls bursting to life in a flash of menacing hellfire, revealing the true extent of the tunnel. It was long, and foreboding. As the pair moved, they noticed gouges and scorches across the walls, floor, and even roof. The somewhat jagged cave's walls being plastered with signs of an ancient fight with no clear victors.
After an untold amount of walking, seemingly passing the same stretch of tunnel twenty times over, something changed. The aura of the place shifted ever so slightly, an almost indescribable feeling consisting something of hostility to aggravation at their presence.
Shortly after that, the pair came across the foretold path they sought. The tunnel split off into three separate paths with large perfectly preserved and ornate redwood doors depicting three different elements, Earth, Fire, and Water.
The ways that marked 'Earth' and 'Water' were marred with the signs of war, scorches, and long rotted corpses. The skeletal remains of two distinct sides fighting and dying to protect or claim the treasures the very same pair wanted now. Curiously enough, the tunnel leading to the 'Fire' door was absent of any marring details to ruin it's almost ethereal beauty, being absent of war and death like the other two.
They looked towards each other and nodded before turning back to their target. Pushing forward they recite the ritual words as they stalk up to the door, pushing the draped robes aside and placing both of their hooves simultaneously onto the red and golden door. "Magna ignis Dei tui sumus coram indignus. Tu suscipe suscepit quasi praeteritum."
Nothing happened. The two held their hooves firmly against the door on the prescribed places, said the words, and nothing happened.
That was, until an immeasurable fear rose in their brains, the overwhelming and horrifying realization they were playing with fire. It was torture, unable to move from shock and wracked with the worst terror you could experience as a living being, fight or flight not even being a consideration and the two got a full dose of horror in it's purest form. Then, that went away too.
The door shook, centuries old dust rising from it as it pushed inwards, the seemingly perfect and singular door splitting into two down the middle and opening for the pair. They panted and moved forwards into the pitch black darkness, of the new room, stepping inwards and trying to adjust to the way the room destroyed any light like a black hole, the door suddenly slammed close behind them with a force they hadn't seen before.
They were left in complete agonizing pitch blackness, nothing visible in the room whatsoever. One of the two turned to his side, seeing what looked like an exact duplicate of himself mirroring every movement he took. Wag a hoof, he copied, tilted his head, he copied. At once, the duplicate started to melt slowly, flesh and cloak deteriorating into a bubbling mass of hellfire as he stood there in terror, turning around to try and find his partner.
It seemed to be the wrong decision, and the same process began to him. He felt his flesh boil and fall away in liquid mass, becoming nothing more than a stain on the cosmic universe around him. He screamed as loud as he could until he couldn't scream anymore, and then he was gone.
His partner, heard none of it. He too saw his reflection melt and sputter like a dying flame, but calmly walked up and stomped on the remnant of his counterpart's heated and molten form. It was the correct decision, and the room erupted into a blinding rage of fire and light all around him. The circular room's edges became engulfed in flame stretching infinitely upwards and downwards at the same time, a marble pedestal lit by the fire in the center of the room holding what looked to be an orb made of pure fury and hatred held captive by raging flames shifting colors from red to orange and yellow.
He moved to the orb, the treasure he lusted after for years now, the one thing that could make all his wanton desires for power and ability finally come true. He moved a hoof up to touch the literal object of his heart's desire, making only the barest of contacts with it before realizing, like a magnet, his hoof was unable to break free from it. His excitement started to melt to horror as he was stuck to the object that was now rapidly heating up.
He squirmed and pulled hard before reading the new aura in the room, deathly hatred and malice towards him and him alone. The orb started to become boiling hot, his hoof beginning to cook from the sheer heat of the object, leading him to light his horn with magic to attempt to do the unthinkable. Before he could do anything, a voice resounded in his head, and he was no more.
The being that used to be the figure entirely picked up the orb, instantly relieving the room of any light and fire it was projecting. It carried the object on it's back, and made it's way past the molten remnant of it's previous comrade, and out of the tunnel entirely. It didn't take nearly as long to backtrack this time around, as it once might have commented, and soon it was back into the original dark crypt. Then, to the surface.
It was starting to char black from holding the orb, that was until it hit sunlight of course. The orb seemingly smiled, and the pony carrying it and the object itself vaporized into ash in the blink of an eye, both destroyed in an instant.
Today was gonna be a shit day. Yeah, definitely a shit day.
Morning began like any other did, wake up, salute the flag, PT and then work. Today was gonna be particularly fun however, because we were gonna go sweep a particular town for a suspected insurgent leader being harbored in the area. If you know anything about MOUT, it sucks. There is a reason the battle of Fallujah was such a shitshow, due in part to the sheer extent of the urban operation.
I waited until around Eleven to start getting the guys ready to go. For the most part it would be a simple patrol, and it should go smoothly all things considered. Two squads, plus two vehicles for cover. Don't jinx it by saying 'what could go wrong' and we'd be set for the day. Just a simple drive to the ordered town and conduct inspections. Easy.
For my part I was awake and ready to move by Ten forty five, getting things into place and talking with various leadership in my platoon. Simple briefings were always pleasures. "Right. Okay any last minute questions boys?"
"Aye, you said it was only suspected they were harboring this fuck right?" The voice of first squad's Staff Sergeant, Son Kirin. Apparently his family was asian, cause it was a wild name.
"Correct, it isn't confirmed but if Battalion wants this guy that bad and he's here we're taking him."
"We taking anything illegal we find here too? Or just a simple snatch the guy and leave type deal?" That was James, Gunny extraordinaire.
"Mark for next time, even if it isn't there next time."
With a general agreement in the air, we moved to the vics to get moving, easy. I was gonna run with James and McCollum for this one, you know, proper platoon leadership style. Man I still wish Alex was around, that RTO was fucking fantastic. I just sigh and start moving out, patting James on the back before getting in the opposite vic from him.
"And off to Neverland we drive lads."
It wasn't a terribly far town, not as far as Fourth's outpost. Just thirty or so minutes of driving to get to the outskirts of the smallish community. They'd built up some actual architecture as opposed to the normal shitty mudhuts. Nothing really special, just some blockwide store buildings with actual glass windows.
Out of view of the town I had my people dismount our vics and start walking up the road towards the town using the armored MRAPs as cover. It was a pretty simple day all things considered, just walk up into town and start knocking on doors.
Dirt roads into town started to get more well traveled as we entered what could be considered city limits, eventually hitting city proper to go about our business. By this time in the day most inhabitants were out and about doing whatever it is they did, and my two squads split off inside one of the residential districts to start lightly checking around. Multiple civilians came up to Marines asking for general help with whatever bullshit they needed, usually things like aid and munitions removal. Life for them was just so fundamentally different than American life.
Somewhere in the clusterfuck that was this day me and James started talking to a group of kids who'd run up to us. We'd talked with the same group multiple times before, it was always the kids who liked to come up and chat as best they could. We had a Lance somewhere in one of the squads who was trying to learn Pashto to be able to hold a conversation with 'em, too.
I could make out a few words, enough to at least not seem like a deaf monkey when talking to village leaders and whatnot. James was my go-to language guy though, he managed to get through an Army language course which left him semi fluent in Arabic. Kinda spooked me sometimes.
I just kept a couple meters away from them, in my opinion they were just annoying like all kids were. It didn't matter if they were five or thirty years old, I'd still be weary around here. 'Keep your head on a swivel', 'pick a direction and stare', you were just always taught to keep yer head moving around and scanning, especially in a place like this. In the ideal circumstance you wouldn't want to be brazenly up and down roads in urban terrain, you'd wanna use alleys and backyards, which unfortunately I wasn't particularly at liberty to do at the moment.
So there I was, standing in my kit on a main road, watching for whatever the hell was inevitably going to maybe not happen. I used my left hand to reach into my pocket and retrieve my cigarettes, pulling one from the box with my teeth and enjoying the feeling of it being there for just a bit. I should stop carrying these if I'm trying to quit them.
I looked around to what little rooftops I could actually see before sighing and lighting the damn cig in my mouth, taking a drag off it. That, of course, is the exact moment James walked up next to me.
"Thought you were trying to get off those, Sir."'
I just sighed. "Yeah me too Gunny. What'd you chat with the rugbiters about?"
"Mostly about the things they do around here, taught 'em a few more swear words this time around heh heh."
"You gotta stop doin' that, I thought Colonel Holler wrote you personally to stop?"
"Nah one of the Corporals made that up. Wait, you thought the Colonel wrote me specifically and you didn't even ask me about it?"
"...No comment."
We stood there for a bit until I dropped the cig and stepped on it, turning to say something but getting interrupted by a loud beep from my radio. "Jackal-1-A, Jackal-1-1, found something you'd be interested in seeing. Bring your vic o're here too. Over."
"Copy 1-1, I'm Oscar Mike. 3 mikes, Out."
I looked to James and shrugged. "Looks like that's our stop, bud."
"So it seems."
We both walked towards 1-1's position next to the MRAP driving slowly along with us, 1-2 was knocking on doors and clearing buildings on the same street so it wasn't too much of a concern security wise. We eventually pulled towards the house a majority of the squad was holed up around and I met up with the squad lead who'd called for me, Kirin.
"Avast Kirin, what've you got fer me this time?"
"Rah. Guys found a big fucken' stash of munitions and weapons. I think it's too big a find to just leave, Sir." He pointed towards one of the two buildings that almost seemed to look like they were professionally designed. They weren't though.
"That bad huh Sergeant? Let's take a looksee."
I followed him into the muthut and found myself entering into a room covered in copious amounts of carpets, oh and explosives. Yeah, it was at least thirty big ass wooden crates full of ammo, guns, and bombs. Looked Russian spec, probably old shit from the Soviet Afghan war. "Aye, that'll do it. Alright, have some of your guys wire up demo blocks on this fucker, I'll tell 1-2 to cordon off the block until it's blown."
He nodded and started moving to get his guys in shape while I hopped on my radio, telling 1-2 to start making sure people left the area for a bit. James was right next to me as we both stepped out of the explosives building, looking out into the walled off courtyard we were in with a few other Marines milling about.
"Full sending it in the middle of a town, that one's new. Powers is gonna kick 'yer ass, Gray."
"Probably. Uncaring at the moment though, got bigger problems at hand. Ugh, fuck, I don't complain about the heat here but goddamn did it just get ten degrees hotter?"
"No, I think that might just be you. Helmet's probably on a bit too tight there." James looked down to his feet and groaned at the more than normal dirt that had accumulated on his personage.
I looked up towards the slightly distant rooftops of the actually decent looking market buildings, with glass and everything. Nothing currently, but did I trust that shit? Fuck no.
Me and James made our way around in the compound for a bit, waiting for 1-1 to finish priming the demo blocks, anyway. It didn't take very long to get shit squared away, thirty minutes or so, and that was too long to be sitting in one compound on it's own. Over that period, a small collection of civilians watching had grown. From two to six then to around the fifteen that were scattered about watching our activities.
I moved once more back into the stockpile room now littered with four C4 blocks of explosive, nice and primed to go off whenever we evacuate the area. The Corporal setting the finishing touches gave me a thumbs up and I returned the gesture, ducking my head out of the doorway to pass a glance over the crowd of civilians outside the walls and a few meters back.
During that sweep, James followed me into the building and looked around somewhat uncomfortably at the happenings. "Think me and you should get out of here, Gray. Shit's starting to get dicey and I wanna be far away as possible when that shit rocks off."
I look towards him for a second with a purposefully unreadable expression then back out to some of the loners on balconys and off to the side of the main crowd. "Oh stop being worri-"
A stop my sentence mid word to squint my eyes, then bringing up my rifle to look down the scope at a particular individual. He seemed to be holding something before, but now I was able to make out vaguely that he was holding a phone. "James, get a team to go make that guy put that fucking shit down-"
My ear twitched as for a harrowing second I heard the distinct sound of an old Nokia ringtone somewhere in the pile of assembled munitions. I barely had time to turn my head before James damn near tackled me down and held himself on top of me. "Not yet goddamnit!"
The loudest sound I'd ever heard in my entire fucking life deafened me for minutes on end as the entire world blackened. My vision was seared with white hot pain as I felt rips and punctures all along my body, the adrenaline not hitting me yet as a massive weight slumped on my chest. Everything ached, I thought I felt my back pop in two. It was like my skin was melting, seemingly endless agony on every part of me.
It was everything I could do to scream and keep from blacking out entirely, disorientedly caught under what felt like a ton of oppressive and unmoving mass. When my eyes were finally able to rip open, all I could make out was blue sky above me and the ever present searing pain, straining to move my head forwards to see what had kept me down. My neck screamed in protest as I shifted to see the unmoving mass was James ontop of me, littered with more red stains than marpat camo at this point.
"Fuck! Corpsman! Fuck!"
My voice was hoarse and rough, and I couldn't move anything, it felt paralyzing. My limbs just weren't responding, barely able to be moved at all as I shook from what I assumed was shock and bloodloss. I couldn't make out my own features from James', my own no doubt battered body just mixing with his own as I fought for consciousness. The edges of my vision blacking and starting to fade.
I looked to the left to the blown out walls and courtyard, spotting the ripped shreds of more Marines bleeding out or dying without another soul nearby to help. Sound started to fade in as my vision rescended, screaming and civilians in a panic and roaring gunfire. I heard the flames of actual fire scream out behind my vision from where the cache probably was, blocked by James. I felt my body get hit by a strong force that instantly made me take in a deep breath and my vision return, probably the adrenaline hitting my blood system.
My hand started to twitch in my control as I move my beyond pained limbs to James, already knowing but needing to make sure..
He was gone, no doubt about it. I did my best to push him off me in slow and pathetic movements, having to grab him by the collar and roll as best I can. In the process I saw the burning flames crawling towards me, then to my own legs which were thoroughly fucked... definitely wasn't supposed to bend that way.. fuck!
My hand locked on James' collar, the extent of my bloodloss and bodyies' best attempt to stay alive depleting by the minute as flames started licking on my boots. I guess it liked what it tasted, since it started crawling up my boot and pants, my nerves still lucid enough to feel the heat through the clothes before it got to my flesh proper.
Soon enough though.. it was agony. Burning down in a town of people I never cared about for a cause I'd lost faith in. I felt every milisecond that passed as I charred and melted away, unable to crawl to safety as I swore I could faintly hear a helicopter in the distance. More gunfire, more screaming.
"CORPSMAN! PRIORITY!"
So far away now. Barely able to hear it. The ground vibrated with cooking off munitions near the cache, before my eyes closed one last time and I fell away to the infinite nothingness that was the void. I felt nothing, I saw nothing, I couldn't hear anything.. until a voice clear as day bounded through my head like an electric guitar.
“Breathe.”
Author's Note
Welcome back! My hope is that this story will be better off after the rewrite, and I can make it actually palatable now. Heh.
I unfortunately didn't have the foresight to start hating my own writing until severely after the original 1 year anniversary of this story, so this'll be coming out roughly 2-3~ months after the first post anniversary. 05/14/2020
FOB = Forward Operating Base
COINOPs = COunter INsurgent OPerations
MRAP = Mine Resistant Ambush Protected vehicle
CCP = Casualty Collection Point
IED = Improvised Explosive Device
MOUT = Military Operation in Urban Terrain
RTO = Radio Transmissions Officer
