Amor, Odium, Vindictam
Chapter 1: Experrectus
Clouds of dirt, dust, and smoke obscure his vision. Shots fired from rifles deafens him. The adrenaline coursing through his veins numbs him. They were trapped, he was trapped. Insurgent forces pushed the small platoon of soldiers back to a small tenant building and the odds of escape were slim. A constant barrage of 7.62mm rounds penetrated the walls of the building while the soldiers inside climbed to the roof.
"Get some covering fire for God's sake! We're getting shot up the ass!"
"I'm trying but I can't even look over the ledge!"
"Can anyone tell me how many people are shooting at us!"
"30 plus foot mobiles surrounding the building!"
"Someone call for air support! What the hell are you guys waiting for!"
"Medic! I need a medic!"
"Donny's down! I need a medic!"
"Goddammit! I GOT A BULLET THROUGH MY LEG AND IM LOSING BLOOD! WHERE'S THE MEDIC!"
The stress was almost tangible at this point, constant call outs, orders, and screams drowned out all thoughts, instincts now took the place of logic. In the corner sat a lone soldier, cowering and sobbing like a child. His rifle lay beside him with a full magazine and a rosary was held tight in his right hand. His blue eyes clouded with tears and his blonde hair caked with dirt.
"Get up, you can pray when your body's been shot to hell and you're at St. Peter's Gates!"
He looked up to see a tall, brown haired man extending his arms out to the blonde. Terra, Leftenant Terra Restrepo. His face practically drowned in his own sweat and his eyes intent on staying alive.
"We're not going to take this face down ass up! Get into gear and defend yourself!" Terra yelled over the gunfire.
Terra repeatedly tapped the red cross on Roxas' helmet.
"Got out there and save some lives!" Yelled Terra as he pushed Roxas up and out of his corner.
No words could escape his mouth, he only picked his rifle up of the ground. Roxas held the rifle's charging handle and pulled back. Blue eyes aimed down it's sights and started to fire. He held the trigger spraying bullets through the dust clouds even though only the silhouettes of random insurgents were visible. Roxas looked to his side as he loaded another magazine into his rifle. Terra was right beside him, his eyes focused onto the ghost ring sights and his aim ever unyielding. Roxas felt comfort at this (even though it was just the slightest sliver). He loaded his rifle once more and centered his sight on an exposed head, immediately after pulling the trigger a red mist was clearly visible behind the insurgent's head. As he cleared out one more insurgent he quickly turned to the three injured soldiers. Two of which had a clean hole bored into their which was now gushing blood. One soldier was shot in the upper leg, not fataly but enough to immobilize him.
"What the hell took you so goddamn long!" Yelled the injured soldier.
Roxas never answered but he pulled out a pair of surgical pliers and coaxed the slug out of his leg.
"Someone wrap him up!" Roxas yelled, taking his rifle and helping with suppressive fire.
"Air support's coming in from the east! Get in the building! DANGER CLOSE!" Yelled the radio operator.
"Give us an ETA!" Yelled another soldier who was retreating into the building.
"5 minutes and counting!"
They all filed back into the building, dragging the injured and the dead with them. Their numbers are dwindling and they still have yet to face the endless hordes of insurgents. A five minute wait might as well be a five hour stakeout. The enemy infantry knew that they had retreated, it would only be a matter of time before they break down the doors and over run the small number of soldiers.
"Someone clear the back alley for the extraction route!" Yelled the squad commander.
"I'll do it! Roxas back me up!" Terra yelled beckoning him towards the rear exit of the building.
They exited through the rear with no resistance, though gunshots rang very close by. Their objective was to clear the main street for an evac convoy which would be taking them back home. All looked well for the pair, the insurgents were on the other side of a row of buildings, the main street had
no highly elevated buildings, and multiple Harrier jets could be heard dropping a small payload upon the insurgent foot mobiles.
"Home free, I think I see the evac up ah-" Terra cut off and suddenly roxas was tasting an all too familiar red mist.
Roxas turned around to see a woman holding a pistol and his comrade fallen on the floor with blood pooled around his head like some sort of demonic halo.
"Drop the gun," Roxas said shakily.
The woman shakes her head and holds the grip a bit tighter.
"Drop it!" Roxas yells preparing to shoot her.
She's still unrelenting. She holds her pistol and aims right for his head. Roxas reacts on instinct and opens fire. The woman was instantly torn apart by 20 plus rounds. She was dead, he knew it yet he kept shooting. It wasn't enough to see her die, he wanted retribution. Just as he is about to pull out his own pistol and resume shooting the dead woman a child no older than 12 runs to her body and cradles it. Not caring that his mother's blood soaked his clothes like river he held her. He showed no tears on his face, yet Roxas knew he wanted nothing more to cry. His eyes filled with malice he reached for his mother's pistol and ran away, stealing one last glance at his mother's assailant.
Roxas woke with a start. He immediately felt the tears roll off his eyes. Every night the dream would come the tears soon followed in his wake. He sat up and realized he was in a cold sweat. Like the child many years ago, he hugged his knees and sobbed silently until he fell back into a hellish slumber once more. Thoughts plague his mind, he ponders if the child seeks retribution still, he wonders if death would come swiftly to him, he wonders how will he atone for his sins, he wonders can they even be forgiven? The theater of war, a place of enlightenment, tragedy, accomplishment, and death. For 3 years Roxas has endured this hell, now he sits quietly on a bed, in an apartment, in a neighborhood, in a city.