Zommari had been in the military since he was a small boy, sent for being rebellious. His parents loved him, they told him that, and yet Zommari didn't believe them.

So, he focused on his promising career.

He was twenty when he was relocated to southern China. His training began the moment he stepped off the plane.

It was during his years in China that he met Majo.

She was tall, with a lean body. Her eyes were silver and her long hair was black. Her skin was a shade between his mocha and tan, like a creamy coffee.

She cast gazes at him from the corner of her eye as she dressed in the morning, sliding the green and khaki shirts over her head.

Zommari fell in love.

"Who are you talking to?" Zommari asked, leaning against the corner of the wall. Majo snapped her head up, braid whipping against her back.

"No one." She strode past, hands clenching into fists.

"Didn't sound like no one."

"You don't talk much. Why now?"

"I'm curious."

Majo cast her silver eyes over to him before shrugging and vanishing into the woman's bathroom.

Zommari's eyes narrowed, but he shrugged it off.

"Oi."

He grumbled, swatting away hands that shook his shoulder.

"Oi, Rureaux."

"I'm sleeping. Can't you see that? Or are you blind." He snarled, eyes firmly shut. "Piss off."

"Wake up, dammit." Breasts pressed against his back before his blanket vanished, and he shivered.

"What are you doing here, Majo?"

"Hurry up. I need your help."

He slid into his shoes and grabbed the jacket beside his bunk, before following her into the darkness and striding to the main building.

"Watch my back." She commanded, turning to the locked doors.

Zommari turned, crossing his arms over his chest and tucking his frozen fingers into his armpits.

"I had the strangest dream." Zommari yawned, dropping into his place at the long mess-hall tables.

"Really?" The burly man beside him cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I dreamt that Majo was a witch."

"Wouldn't be surprising." One of the men who had transferred with him sat down. "Her name is witch. No if, ands, or buts. It's creepy, especially with her eyes. I heard a rumor that they glow in the dark."

Zommari shrugged.

The large black man pressed himself into the muddy trench, clutching his gun like a lifeline.

Blood splashed around his feet as he leapt to return fire.

But he froze.

Pressing a pistol to his head was Majo, a cruel smile on her face and raven's feather twined in her hair.

"Thanks for your help, Rureaux." She sneered, leaping over the trench wall. He grabbed her ankle, twisting and eliciting a yelp from her mouth.

"You're not going anywhere." He smashed his hand down on the back of her neck, and hauled her back to camp as the sun dropped behind the horizon.

"That's horrible." The burly man from the mess hall grunted, barely keeping down his lunch. "Who did this?"

Zommari was splayed on his back, surrounded by five barely flickering candles at the point of a pentacle. He was bare, save his name tag, which was stabbed into his chest.

A bowl of blood stood off to one side, next to a bowl containing what once would have been his manly parts.

There was the sound of someone throwing up, and it triggered a chain event.

Majo smirked.

Zommari Rereax

Served his country well.