Only In Death

Private James Harper charged across the windswept desolate no-mans-land on Marnes Prime. Just as he had every night for the last 2 years. He slipped in the black dust that covered the land and almost fell. Sergeant Wheeler grabbed him and dragged him back up.

"C'mon Private" He shouted. "You can rest when you're dead but while your alive you move your ass! For The Emperor!" A shout went up from all the troops of the Cadian 412th behind James and they charged with renewed vigour. That's when it all went to hell. The shells started falling. The charging men were suddenly pounded by massive artillery. The archenemy had fortified this point well since the last air recon. Then it happened. James didn't want to watch. Not again. A shell landed right in front of him and threw him into the air. As he landed he momentarily blacked out. When he came to the ground was soaked with blood. Not his. He had been lucky. The men in front of him hadn't been. What was left of them lay there. Still. James looked to his right and saw a man trying to staunch the flow of blood from the stump of what used to be his leg. He looked to his left. Wheeler lay their most of his head obliterated and his body still twitching. Suddenly a figure was standing over James. A man dressed in power armour. The man looked down and James saw his face. It was carved with grotesque symbols that James didn't want to even think about but couldn't look away from. And then the figure smiled. He would never forget that smile. An autopistol raised in the figures hand. And fired.

James sprung up. Sweat drenched his body and the bed he lay in. Mike looked up from the bunk beneath him.

"The dream again?" he asked.

"You know it." Replied James who was still shaking. As he talked his lips on the left side of his face only vaguely mimicked the speech. "I'll be back in a sec." James hopped down from the bunk and threw on his vest. Making his way through the maze of sleeping troopers James heard something.

"Hey. You alright halfy?" a man shouted to him. Two men sniggered from one of the bunks. They all had their names for him. Halfy, Two-Face. He didn't care anymore. Their names had lost their sting long ago. James made his way to the latrine and stepped inside. He threw water on his face and looked up at the mirror. His empty face stared back. He tried smiling. As usual only half his face completed the gesture. The other half stayed still. Since the pistol shot on Marnes Prime all that time ago he couldn't smile. Nor could he frown, pout, or anything else involving all his face. The medics had said it was a miracle he had survived. He saw it as a curse. The side of his face the pistol shot had destroyed was replaced with a cheap bionic construct. It looked like a human face and it allowed him to talk but apparently the more actions it did the more money it cost. And the military didn't need him to smile or frown or pout. Because of them however now James was in this situation. When he came back from the medics most of the men openly and blatantly shunned him. Even those who didn't acted different around him. Mike was the only who hadn't changed. Even James's fiancé was less tolerant than Mike. He'd had video contact with her a few weeks after the operation. She'd cried when she saw his face. She said what she thought he wanted to hear but she was never the same. A few months after that he had got a letter from her. The letter contained her engagement ring. James tried to put it all out of his mind. He smiled again. Again it came out a smirk. Always a smirk. James looked out of the small window over the rest of the ship. The massive spires, the huge weapons. The Pride of Cadia sped towards their next battlefield. Sometimes James just prayed to be free. Of the jeering guardsman, the staring eyes. Free of the torment his own face brought him. But he wasn't free. Every battle, every planet, every week, every day he wasn't free. For only in death could he be free.

When I write the next chapter depends on reviews so keep 'em comin'!