Hurting... [Closed]

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Hurting... [Closed]

Post by Spectre-K10 on Fri Nov 21, 2014 7:08 am

On a cliff overrun by nature stood the ruins of a building. It had long been forgotten, as the vines dare attest. It was difficult to make out what the building used to be, but Ghost remembered every detail. Size, structure, colors and all.

It was difficult not to, when nightmares kept reminding him. This was the place where he lost half of his heart, leaving him to bleed in the worst way imaginable.

The surrounding husks of war machines played the host for the native flora. Never complaining as their exterior was enveloped in greenery that mocked their very purpose with painful irony.

As he approached the ruin, memories, once repressed, played with his imagination. He could hear the bullets whistling as they ran through the soldier hiding behind the fence. He was still alive, and another saw him. The other ran out of the house to tend to his ally, barely getting done in by the round that pinged against his helmet.

Yes, it was so clear.

Soldiers were getting forced back to the house as a larger force with heavier firepower pushed closer. While the soldiers in the house carried rifles, machine guns, and a handful of explosives, the opposing force cruised by with the same load out, only with added rockets and a battalion of tanks to back them up.

The enemy knew the soldiers were as good as dead, which was why they didn't aim their turrets directly at them. They wanted their prey to feel small, to lose all hope. They pounded their shells just a little wide to show how confident they were on their coming victory.

Ghost saw his younger self run past him and the pair who were huddled behind the crumbling fence. Over his shoulder, he carried a fellow warrior, a woman, only a few years older than him.

He felt a dagger go through his chest just by thinking about her. She was the one who took him in, and taught him how to protect himself. You see, Ghost was born in a well-contested territory. Various factions had their eye on it for years, and when he hit his early teens, the fuse finally ran out.

One faction saw another's attempt to take control, and decided that they weren't just going to sit by. The other factions soon got in on the act, and in a matter of weeks, the territory was reduced to rubble.

Somewhere along the chaos, the woman, who the members of her faction refer to as 'Fox', found Ghost, half dead and armed with a pistol, inside a room littered with half a dozen corpses of a rival faction.

Seeing potential for another gun in their ranks, he was rescued and drafted to their service. For Ghost, it was either work under their flag and fight, or sit down in the middle of it all and wait for a stray bullet to make his body its home. The decision wasn't hard to make.

Years passed and their faction moved on from the petty territory they had acquired together with an alliance. Eventually, they found themselves on the cliff, backs against the wall.

Prior to their relocation to the house, they were fighting on the front lines, but were forced to retreat as a shell blew up their cover.

Ghost was now standing in the middle of the ruin now. He saw himself lay Fox down behind cover. He attempted to return to the fight, but the girl grabbed him, thrusting her precious rifle into his arms. He ran to the second floor to get a vantage point to whittle down what little he could.

Smoking casing after smoking casing, the gun screamed, as its targets didn't get the chance to. Soon, they heard the whistles of shells falling out of the sky, and their enemies were peppered with artillery. Artillery that could have gotten there sooner.

Most of the machines were destroyed, and the those that weren't were soon fixed when the soldiers took advantage of their enemies' stupor.

The day was theirs.

But their losses were not final.

Fox climbed to the second floor, clutching the wound under her lung. Ghost, Fox, and the others who were on the same floor traded smiles and grins. They did it. They lived to see another day.

Those smiles would however fade as an enemy soldier managed to shoot a rocket at the house before the bullets got to him.

The explosive hit the lower level, but the explosion was strong enough to break through to the second floor. Ghost found himself in midair, engulfed in fire and debris before hitting the ground.

The back part of the house collapsed, and he was dangerously close to the edge. The second floor was a direct ramp to the sea below, and Fox was desperately trying not to fall in.

Seeing this, the young Ghost grabbed a fallen curtain and used it as a substitute for rope to rappel down to Fox. He grabbed her hand before she could fall, but the curtain wasn't meant to support their weight, and slowly ripped.

"I'm sorry," Fox apologized as she grabbed her glove with her free hand.

"Don't even think about it! I'm gonna get us through this!" Ghost yelled. But he couldn't deny that he didn't how to.

More of the curtain's strands broke.

With a flick of her thumb, the button that kept her glove locked popped from the socket. Her hand easily slid through the glove and she plummeted to the waters below.

Ghost couldn't even remember how long ago that was, but that event never left his mind. Much like the others...

It tormented him, poisoned him, and left him as an empty shell.

There was no escape.

There was no salvation.

No matter how much he wanted it all to leave him alone, deep inside he wanted to keep those memories, no matter how painful. Those were the only things that reminded him that he was human, and not the machine he looked like.

He held out a single rose over the ocean and released it. "Here's to you, old friend. Sorry I took so long in visiting. I hope you didn't think I forgot about you."

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