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Server time (UTC): 2023-09-28 18:22

Isaac Blake - Soldier


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  • Sapphire

Make sure to give me some feedback below. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't like. And tell me if I should keep going.



"I'm so proud of you, son." He would speak gently like this, only when he was truly sincere. Usually, he bore an impenetrable cloud about him, making him so unpredictable. I could tell from the way he spoke that he really, really meant this. I always wanted to be more like him, I really did. A stalwart tower that never swayed, always loyal to his country and to his family. He saluted me from a broad stance. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, and on mine as well."I love you, dad."

The world returned to me in a painful, burning blur. Rough laughter all about me and the smell of liquor strangled my senses. Cold liquid ran down my face, soaking my beard. I coughed some of the nasty liquid up. I hope it was water.

"Shit, I spilled some on this fucking roach over here. Go back to sleep, roach-ey!" shouted an angry woman in a Czech accent.

My cheek stung and my blurry vision danced to the left as she slammed her fist into my jaw. I immediately tasted blood. I shakily lifted my chin, merely peeking about. Before me lay a campfire, with several rough-looking figures about. The woman who struck me strode over to a vikingly-bearded guy in a greasy hoodie and kissed him briefly, before giggling and whispering to him. She walked off into the distance to my right, past where I could rotate my head discreetly. I was bound to something solid (it felt like a light pole), with some sort of crunchy thick material. I looked down and saw thick silver lines around my arms and legs. My holster was empty. They took the knife on my belt, too.

"When will you be back?" she said. She was so beautiful, even when she was crying. I held her, and spoke ever so softly so that she couldn't hear the pain in my voice. "Soon, sweetie. I promise it won't be long."

My heart sped up as things returned to me in higher definitions. I could hear them now doing something to that poor, young boy that was bound to another pole on my right. It was a flash of silver that they buried in his chest. I'll never escape from his screams, even within the furthest confines of my mind... I saw them pull stuff out of him. There was so much flesh. I wanted to cry and scream and die. The stars in the sky burned with whiter intensity as I averted my eyes upward and whimpered silently. After what felt like days in that unending night, long after the screaming turned to gargling, the maniacal laughing and screams of fear subsided into silence. I heard the woman from before shout out to the group ahead from behind me. Soon, three sets of footsteps approached the group and sat around the fire, laughing. One of them was dragging some poor, so very young girl by her hair around. A big man with a gun shoved her to the ground and shouted at her to stay there. She laid there, naked and shaking.

I took a deep breath. I knew it, this feeling! I finally knew what I signed up for. The men ahead of me shuffled forward, holding onto their line. I watched them jump out into the sky-blue maw ahead of us, the roar of the engines deafening most sound. I was next. The man ahead held his hand up to me. "Ready?" he mouthed. The butterflies raged in my belly. I nodded furiously. "GO!" I  jumped out into the nothingness, following tiny black dots in uniforms, the air rushing around my head. Below lie the desert, the sands eager to greet my boots. I pulled on my cord, the parachute jerking me into a slower, steadier fall.

I had to get out. I had to live! If only God gave me some sort of chance, some sort of sign! Please, I pleaded. God! Help me! "Help me..." I whimpered quietly past my oily lips. As if He Himself reached down and freed me, I felt a bit of give on the duct-tape around my arms. I could move them, bound together, but freely against the pole. I could rub the tape thin! My stomach sank once more when in my little splendor I finally noticed the harsh woman look to me. Eyes burned me like hot iron against the glare of the fire. Did she know?

She smiled and walked over, breathing my air immediately. She was way too close. I saw details in little scars in bruises all over her face and head, little red spots where her hair had been pulled off of her scalp. "What are you afraid of, dick? It's almost like everyone here forgot about you. I didn't, dick." She groped me suddenly. I tried to twist away, but my legs weren't free. She finally released my crotch and stepped behind me. The crowd at the campfire seemed to have walked off a bit into the woods, dragging that poor girl with them. I felt a soft dragging on my ear, breath reeking of alcohol going directly into my lungs. Something else in her breath made me want to vomit, but I remained steady. She didn't scare me. Even with my shaking knees, my crying eyes and unstable upper lip, this bitch didn't scare me. I'm gonna fucking kill you.

I took a long swig of my canteen, shuddering at the sight of the twisted bodies all in a pile. "All in a day's work, eh?" I bantered to one of my fellow soldiers. "Pfft, I didn't think I'd see this shit so early on. You sure this doesn't bother you?" I shook my head at him, taking a deep breath. "Insurgents aren't like us. It makes it hard to really relate, I guess. Makes it easier on me, y'know?" At this, he shrugged and replied, "I don't know man. It's almost enjoyable when you see what they did to the women in this village..."

She kind of danced around me, giggling, drunk. I needed to get off this fucking pole. "I think you're beginning to like this..." she uttered in a rough, crackley voice. I felt sorry for her, almost. My wrists were free now after intense periods of friction from when she was in front of me. All I had to do was wait. I looked to the campsite for details that might help me in the coming moments. A woodcutting axe and some matches, along with some sort of flammable fluid in a can, lay by a makeshift stool. A pistol with a magazine lay next to a woman with a hole in her head, on the ground behind the fire. The man with a viking beard dropped it after he was done. A small shed was off to my right, and perhaps some sort of deer stand at the woods far to my left. I knew what I had to do, and waited.

The woman teased me again and again. When she was done, she left my pants around my knees on the pole. She was now asleep next to the dying fire, and it wasn't long until the group came back. They still didn't pay any attention to me and took sleeping positions on blankets and mats in the grass. Only one man remained awake, with a rifle in his hand. He was keeping watch in the makeshift stool, to the plains in every direction. They must've not been that worried about passerby's, which could either mean we were far away from any sort of town or they had other people around. In this small group, there was only five of them, not including the naked girl. She was lying awake across from me, turned to the fire. She wept quietly. My knees grew numb from the cold wind. I finally decided it was no longer time to wait on something else to happen to her.

"What the fuck do you mean, Isaac?! You get off on some sort of power trip and you can just barge in here and pretend like you're in charge of our fucking lives!" she shouted at me. I raised my hands, speaking softly to her, "Sweetie, you're drunk. Please, come back to bed. We can't talk about this right now." I started to hear my child crying in the room down the hall. "You think just 'cause I've had a bit of liquor, my points aren't valid?! Why are we here, Isaac!? This country is SHIT!!!" As I turned to walk to the door, I felt her wedding band pelt my neck. My boots stomped quietly down the hall as I opened the door to my wailing baby. Clover was her name. Four months old. I held her in my arms and kissed her smooth forehead. Her screaming stopped. My lovely wife slammed the back door all the way at the other end of the house.

I was now completely free, my pants buttoned back on and zipped. The man at watch nodded off, perfectly timed for me to retrieve the gun and axe. I stood over the sleeping people, the naked woman now standing behind me and holding my sleeve.

"I'm not sure... I heard a lot of sirens earlier. Wait... someone's coming. Isaac!" Someone pounded on the door, shouting in Chernarussian.

 His ice-cold fingertips scrambled for my throat, as mine did for his. I was on top of the man at watch, the blood of his comrades soaking our pants. I grew fatigued, and feared the he was going to overpower me.

I moved my thumbs up to his eyes and pressed until I felt the most sickening and satisfying pop.

I sat up, above him, looking to the red liquid on my hands. I wasn't scared anymore.

The woman who humiliated me lie unharmed, scared and shaking, over the corpse of her loved one. I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her across the grass. The other girl left long ago, after I buried the axe into viking-beard. After a long walk, hearing the incessant whispers from the lady, "Sorry, I'm so sorry, please...", I threw her to the grass. I reached down and ripped my dogtags off of her neck and stuffed them into my jeans pocket. She crawled backwards frantically in a pathetic slide. I slowly walked to her, following her movements. The axe was in my hands, blood running from my right arm onto the wooden handle. She kept trying to stand, trying to get away, to run. I stopped following her and my bloodlust passed. She was gone, now. Far into those woods. I'll always be chasing her in her mind, my axe an image burned into her very soul. It's what she and her kind deserve.

I took the rifle from the camp and walked onto the nearest dirt path. I felt a heaviness on my own soul that stays with me since that day. I don't regret my actions. I never will.

I now know what true survival is. You have to be a soldier, you have to go about your days as objectives and obstacles as targets. My war is vengeance for my little girl, and I haven't won 'til I have erased every last one of you murderers. Those who prey on the weak.

I will find you.

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Well written story, gruesome but a good read. Clearly you can write well and have a great imagination.

*While i think it is a well written story, the character you will be RPing sounds a little super soldiery, which may explain the lack of feedback.

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  • Sapphire

Killing a few people when they're asleep isn't a hard task, especially after the atrocities they committed. I'm confused as to what the whole super-soldier thing entails...

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