The name is Kip Oliver - I've always hated the name, but don't all children learn to hate the names their parents pick?
I grew up having a normal upbringing in Canada - not too rich as to devalue the dollar, but not poor enough as to have lived through starvation. My parents loved me for the growing soul I was growing to be -- however on September 11, 2001, the world changed for the first time (it changed for me more than most...)
My parents died in a brutal collision with a tractor-trailer outside Saskatoon. The officer said to my grandmother before she took me in, "it would have been instant for them, no pain, no worry." All I could think was "they wouldn't have had time to say they loved me before they were gone." With the loss of my parents and only an aging woman to take care of me, I grew up quick and turned the tables. I instead began caring for my grandmother in her apartment complex. She knew everyone, and they knew me.
July 25, 2012 (newly 19 y/o) My grandmother - Carol - went to the store only telling me that it would be a surprise. She kissed my forehead and left. I didn't care as much as I wished I had. She was murdered for the $25.75 CAD in her purse and a case of beer - It turns out she was planning my first drink with a couple of the other old timers in the apartment complex. A 6-pack of Canadian and $25.75; that's what they found when they caught him - Maxwell Gilroy - my grandmother's murderer got off without charge when the security footage was damaged in an "accidental fire" in the evidence room. He got what was coming to him, don't worry - I made sure of that.
The thrill and feeling of taking another life was exhilarating - I learned to love it, embrace it, but still believed in the good of the world. This is what led me to joining the reserves of the Canadian military at 21 (post July 2014) and was trained up until I was shipped off on our first "RAP" mission (Reinforce and Protect). Our squad was tasked with assisting the CDF forces in South Zagoria and to utilize our knowledge of strategic formations and defensive tactics. These tactics had needed a major overhaul after the events of July 2017 when we lost communication with the FOB due to a faulty comms kit.
We made contact with the FOB within the week however only a repeating message played "To all Canadian Armed Forces personnel and all contracted to assist the Canadian Armed Forces -- 'Broken Leaf' -- the Armed Forces of her majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, have officially withdrawn from Chernarus. Our mission to reinforce and protect the Country and capital has fai..." then cuts to static for a few seconds, then repeats. This message lasted for a few days before finally going dead. Our squad of 6, last on patrol, slowly lost members one by one. Shawn died from a HE Bomb dropped when the strafing started, Alex went missing when he went to piss with the wolves one night. Each man, one by one. I decided to leave when loneliness become more than I could handle.
I was to take my life, until I stumbled across an unconscious man in the middle of the road. I took him in and he woke a few days later - I was elated! Another human being to talk to ... Finally something more than silence to look forward to! I tried to learn of every detail I could from the native man, however he kept most everything a secret - like he was hiding something. I wanted nothing more than to have that social value reappear in my world, however he wouldn't allow it.
One day I snapped and held a sharp stone to his throat and demanded he tell me about what he knows - he said one phrase in broken English - "South Zagoria answers science seeked, answers desire of soul." This meant nothing to me at the time - this was also the second time I ever killed a man. The kill didn't affect me until I began having nightmares. In my nightmare; the man lays on an open highway and trees surrounding any outer distances. Roars, screams and screeches fill the air. The man kinks his head to look at me and hollers, "The answer's your soul desires," before being pulled through the asphalt as if it were turned to liquid.
The nightmares took their toll, slowly creeping into my conscience. I've become obsessed with his last words, now I seek the answer to the man's insanity, as well as my own.
My name is Kip Oliver - I've always hated the name, now I hate the man.