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Tales of War
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AA Infantry

Joined: 08 Jan 2011

PostPosted: Thu May 14, 2015 1:51 pm    Post subject:  Tales of War
Subject description: You can't win a war, unless your name is Death,.
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Edit: I decided to use this thread for multiple short stories that take place in various wars. All these stories will be fairly short, ten pages at most, and contain tales of soldiers and civilians alike and have no relation to each other.

- The first tale (has been posted a while ago):

The sight of the soldiers sent a shiver through Victoria's spine. It was a small group, and they looked fearsome, almost evil, shrouded in the thick fog that covered the dense forest, enhanced by the sun that set behind the massive mountains. Their black cloaks billowed in the chilly wind. Rumors about cloaked soldiers burning everything in their wake had been omnipresent for the past few weeks. She passed it off as no more than a rumor, but it was very real now, their heavy weapons visible in the sunset. Small embers leaked ominously out of the barrels and made their appearance even more intimidating.
Victoria did not want to stay near them. She had to run. She maintained an old log cabin in the mountains, and she should make a run for it if she did not want to be burned alive. She took her most valuable possessions and put them inside her jacket, as well as her Desert Eagle, just in case she had to defend herself outside against a stray bear or a soldier. She hoped she would not need it as memories of her younger sister danced in her mind. They may never meet again, but luckily she was safe in the heavily guarded city, where these terror squads did not appear. Victoria still cherished every thought of her, her last remaining family member.
She quickly hid her gun in her jacket and left. The soldiers were awfully close, but if she left through the backdoor, she would remain out of the range of their flamethrowers. Just as she slammed the door shut, a wall of fire blasted through the wooden house of her neighbours, setting it ablaze in a matter of seconds.

So she ran. The tightly packed pine trees provided amazing cover, even moreso now her house was set on fire and was blocking the line of sight between her and the soldiers. She did not look back as she ran across the dirt path, turning around rocks, ducking underneath branches and jumping over roots that stuck unconveniently over the uneven ground. Twigs cracked under her feet as kept up her running pace, following the river upstream. She did not dare to slow down, the screams of agony that came from her village driving her to run even faster. She could not help others now, only hope that she lived to tell the tale.
When the river split in two small creeks, she turned to the left, crossing the detoriated wooden bridge across the unnamed creek. The old wood creaked ominously as she stepped across it, even her thin body being almost too heavy for the rotten planks.

Not before the sun had set completely, Victoria dared to slow down. The fatigue and pain in her legs from pushing her body to the limit suddenly struck her like a hammerblow. Sweat was absolutely everywhere and making her clothes damp. Down on all fours, she crawled to the river and carefully drank a bit from the cold water, allowing her to regain her bearings and to continue to her cabin, albeit at a much slower pace. The soldiers would not catch up to her, at least for now. She needed to mind her step from here on, as the muddy  path vanished completely in the pristine forest and was shrouded in the veil of the night. She was probably the only human that still set foot here every now and then, most of the other log cabins in the vincinity having not being visited in decades and left to decay to ruins.

The uneven terrain and no visible path made reaching the log cabin already difficult at daytime, but now, with only the moon to guide her, it was twice as hard. She made sure to always touch at least one of the pine trees whenever possible, while occassionally looking at the babbling brook. Moonlight reflected eerily from its surface, guiding her to the numerous waterfalls up ahead. She made sure to avoid sliding down into the creek and moved closer to the mountain, where a gaping maw of jagged rocks suddenly appeared at her side. She knew it was there, and yet she was always surprised when it popped up. But she would not enter that grotto during day, the massive cavern being far too treacherous with its deep crevasses and highly unstable surfaces, and she would certainly not enter it at night. She had entered it once in the past out of curiosity, with a flashlight, and immidiately realized that going any further than a even few dozen yards was already dangerous. Even the most experienced speleogists would need extensive preparation to enter it. She continued carefully, noticing of another cavern, where a small underground river flowed into the creek. A breath of relief escaped her as she walked past an ancient tree, the tree that told her that she had covered the most of the road, yet  it also marked that she still had to walk more than an hour. Usually she rested here for a bit, to regain a bit of her strength for the last few miles. Now she wanted to go on without rest more than ever, but felt herself unable to.

As Victoria laid down, a faint smile crept upon her face, the soft moss underneath her reminding the redhead of her childhood, not even that long ago. Images of a young Victoria playing with the other children in the neighboorhoud danced through her mind, one by one.
She was shaken from her blissful memories when she noticed the cloud of smoke that slowly billowed into the sky, marking her village even from here, and shook her head in disbelief. Why... just why?
Victoria turned her gaze at the shimmering veil that the full moon had cast across the forest, the mountain opposing her and the numerous small creeks, some barely visible in the shadows. Trees rustled as the light breeze. This place was truly beautiful, both during the night and the day. Victoria could not resist to check on the old bridge that she had passed before, which appeared incredibly tiny from here, only visible because of its shadow cast upon the river. The long, winding path downwards was empty, the monstrous soldiers having not made an attempt to pursue her. A sigh of relief escaped Victoria as her unconscious fear drifted away. She wiped a tear from her face as she pushed herself upright, forcing herself to go on. It was very late already, probably past midnight, and she still had a few miles to walk. She massaged her tired legs and pushed on.

It was already nearly two o'clock when the cabin came into view. Breathing heavily, Victoria struggled to keep a solid footing on the wet moss that had overgrown what used to be a path long ago. She wished she would be sound asleep in the log cabin already, but that would hopefully not take too long anymore. She pushed the old, rusty gate open, and cast a glance at the cabin. She unlocked the door, carefully, as if afraid to be heard, and turned the lights on. She had made it. She felt dizzy all of a sudden, and fell on the wooden floor, her mind and body spent.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped onto the planks. Most of the people she knew were dead. Luckily her sister was safe, in an orphanage in the city. Maybe they would meet again. But the city was far from here and seemed to be even further away than it ever was. Maybe she would go there, since the log cabin was only a temporary solution for her problems. But that was something to think about tomorrow. She would also send her sister a message that she made it out alive, but not yet. Sending a message was not safe now, the soldiers probably capable of detecting it. She was not sure.
Then, hope suddenly flared in her mind. Victoria would not be the only one that escaped her demise, would she? It might be worth the effort to check around for survivors within a day or two.
Victoria drank a bit of fresh water and ate a few crackers, before finally locking the door. The cold that always lingered in the cabin was being staved away by the electric heater. There was nothing she could do now, nothing at all. But tomorrow was another day.

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AA Infantry

Joined: 08 Jan 2011

PostPosted: Wed Sep 30, 2015 6:00 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

And here the second story arrives. Very short as I'm practicing with the rather hard to use 2nd-person view. What do you guys think about it?

 You were a soldier. You followed orders. You killed. You stared in the eyes of those you killed. You stared in the eyes of your squadmates as they died. Their eyes haunting you in your dreams, wherever you  went. The sole surviver of your squad, staring at the massive cliff in the distance. People, your so- called enemies, jumped off it as they commited suicide. What the ztyping hell were they fighting for? What the ztyping hell were you fighting for? You walked aimlessly through the town, only half aware you should keep your head behind cover as you and your comrades had only conquered the small island recently and a hidden sniper could pop him if he wanted to. He stared in the distance. You stared at three of your comrades as they searched a house.
And you heard a scream. You averted your eyes. The female screamed again. This time, you ran to the house. A shot was fired. Another scream.

The owner of the scream appeared, backed against a corner. A small Japanese girl, in her early teens, wearing a simple green dress, cowering away in fear. One of your fellow soldiers drawled something in a dirty voice. You averted your eyes once more... at least, you wanted to. But you could not, and could only stare as the soldier removed the girl's dress.  The Japanese girl appeared so young, so vulnerable, as she was cornered against a wall. Her eyes. Fear.  
You suddenly noticed you were much closer to them than before, the soldiers only a few feet away now. Had you walked towards them? Your 'comrade' pinched the girl's skin, as if examinizing his prize. The girl whimpered. You stared into her eyes again. Fear and weariness met and imprinted themselves. The girl inched dcloser to you. You took another, careful step, forwards, carefully taking her soft, smooth hands into your rough scarred ones. Tears welled up behind your eyes. But soldiers should not cry. Ever. But as the other soldiers slowly disappeared around you, you only stared in the distance, still fighting the tears back. The girl remained at your side, just as quiet as you were. The war had taken all words.

Tales of War

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