A short chapter just to keep your interests up. Review please.
As he lay on the bed, delirious with the combined illnesses he dreamed of his past. Not as the man he was now, but of lives past, of the reason he was the way he was.
Many Cannons roared in the valley below Gareth's feet. They thundered relentlessly never stopping, the sounds of the war which Gareth was entrenched in. While the guns lit up the night he stood there in the rain, wondering which side was right. Gareth knew the outcome of this war, knew that somewhere within this terror lay the reason for Gareth's bad Karma. Except that here, he was not Gareth, but Private Johnson. This man whose thoughts were being viewed, was the last reincarnation of Gareth, one of the many who lived and died in the Great War. Gareth realised with irony that the Great War had never ended, nor had it began in 1914.
Private Johnson's eyes wandered along the wire, and his eyes settled on something he had became all too familiar with. On the wire like a ragged old scarecrow his hands bloody and his back broken. This one was not dead though, and Johnson's rifle turned towards this target. He shot the man and saw him pirouette in solo jumping in time to the rat a tat of Johnson's gun.
He turned again, and saw a flash of light, one of the other soldiers was in the barn they had captured that morning. As the screams of the woman he was torturing grew louder, Gareth knew that this was the event that he had failed to stopped, but he was powerless to stop the man, as his body responded only to the commands of Private Johnson. The man came out of the barn to dispatch his precious cargo. As he threw the broken body of the girl over the wire, bullets knock him right off his feet and his broken body hits the floor. Private Johnson prayed that no one followed the man, although it was better still to face the beast, then to face the court martial, which would surely follow.
As Johnson turned away from the scene, hating what he had failed to stop, a bullet hit him squarely in the head, and the light faded from his eyes. The snipers had seen him, and now his debt was unfufilled, his soul could not pass on. Gareth's soul sped through time, to that place in today's time. Where the field of battle had become a garden, and the wall of the barn had stood the test of time. Children play in what was once death, and the dogs run barking through the grass.
Who would think or who would guess of the events, which had occurred in the middle of that fateful war. Surely none of those in the garden now would remember the evil of the past. Innocents had died here, and Gareth had to put his wrong right in this life, or he would not be allowed to die, and go on to paradise. Surely the evils of war would remain a part of this place, but then war is not evil, just the men who fight wars. Nature reclaims its own, and will always live on.
Man can only do so much, the wars between good and evil were no concern of nature. Perhaps that was the lesson that Gareth learned in his spirit journey, but he now knew that he would have to repay his debt, and that somehow, his current line of employment was not doing this for him...
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