I was a boy when this happened. I was a young boy, only 6. We lived in a small village in the east called Yela. Maybe 500-600 people there. My mother, she was young, beautiful, caring and loving. My father was a teacher at the school in our village. This was 1992. A new president was elected and there was outcry, people were angry, others were happy, but there was some corruption. After the new man took power, villages were being wiped out in the west and south. Death squads, we called them the N'yoye Bel. Angels of the devil. Eventually people started to fight back, Nigerians came, Sierrans came but werent the helpful ones, the ones for drugs and war. Lets skip that for say.
My mother had left us by then, she went into Guinea to avoid the war. My father had paid for her to go. It was only me, my brother and my father. We were helping the church calm things down as a village 2 miles from us had been attacked by the rebels. We went to sleep only to wake up the next morning to gunfire and screaming. BOOOM! I still hear the screams when i sleep. My father told me to run and dont stop only before he was shot. My brother was behind me until he was killed. Seeing the people you love die in front of your very eyes does something to you. I ran into the bush and stayed there for a week, eating leaves, throwing up, eating more. But this day changed me a lot, it made me who i am today.
1993, Day 8.
I was found by a group, they weren't rebels, they were the military either, they were different. They called themselves NDPM. The National Democratic Party Mercenaries. They took me and trained me. Not too long i should say, Two weeks. My first kill, A week later after my training. But so much happened during my time with them, i rather say that i not speak the sins i committed. Lets skip them 9 years.
2002, Sierra Leone.
I was 15 at the time, i was in a rehabilitation camp. They made me go to school, they taught me the basics of living in the general population at the time. I dont like what they did, They were very very strict, but it didn't stop me. One warm night in the bush, one of the buddies i met there, told me about him going back to Liberia, going back to fight. He was extremely fucked up by the drugs and so was I, but i listened. The camp was on the border of Liberia so we just snuck out into our country and boy were we suprised. The war ended 1 month earlier, we were homeless like most rebels. We could barely eat, so i made the smart decision since my past was going to help me, i joined the National Defence Forces of Liberia 4 years later.
I had just finished my training and was a soldier, but i was a soldier that was working for the UN. I had encountered them before that time but i never thought of joining them. But hey what can i say, im here now telling you the story, but yea basically, i was sent all over africa to help with wars, aid poor countries. But i never been to the Baltic States before.
We are dealing with something different here, these people are infected with some fucking disease that our doctors are still researching. Im stationed here as a sniper, I lead my own team, but our mission here is to help out the Chernarussian Defence Force. They need our help to keep the peace, but damn, i dont know who these people are, but i know one thing, they aint human no more...