Ever since I was a boy, I have always been willing to make the hard choices, take the blame, put down the school bully and get suspended, so that all the other kids could see that there are those in the world wo are willing to make the bad choices so that they could be safe and comfortable.
I think it was this attitude that led me to join the military after college. My parents never approved, but I also never let them see the side of me that was not the nerdy academic who loved to design cool stuff. They never saw the brutal protector that I was willing to be when necessary. As soon as I graduated college at the age of 24 I joined the Army, I knew where I wanted to go, special forces. I worked hard, never have I struggled like they made me struggle... I guess I have that to thank that I am somehow still alive. I went on two deployments, there I honed my skills. But all the skills and practice in the world could never prepare me to what went down on my second deployment. It was a routine op, smash and grab, we were looking to nab some terrorist cell higher up that the CIA had flagged, we would do these two, maybe three times a week, they would sometimes be waiting for us in the house if they were tipped off, but it was nothing we couldn't deal with, just toss a few flash bangs and bye bye eyesight. but whoever he was, this guy was different, while moving down the street, we were about a block away when the SHTF. Gunshots rang out and before I could blink Joey and Pete were down, as the squad was scrambling to backtrack and provide some semblance of cover Erik and I pulled Joe and Pete into the alleyway closes to us. Luckily, in the shitstorm whoever was firing at us was too preoccupied with the rest of our squad to bother with us. Huddling in the alleyway, Erik and I tried desperately to stabilize our wounded friends. However it did not take long for us to realize that they would not last the night if we were not able to get the back to base and professional medical treatment, but cut off from our squad, with what seemed like the entire town intent on killing us between us and safety, we were... lets say distraught, I have been in many a tight pinch before, but none like that. as we were discussing what to do, I heard the whizz of a bullet, and saw a look of surprise appear on Erik's face, I immediately dove to the ground, twisting to face our assailant. Feeling more bullets fly by me I managed to squeeze off two shots towards the window where I had hoped the shooter was located, my efforts were rewarded with a cry of pain. Praying to God that he was down for good I spun back around and looked to Erik, who was wheezing on the ground. I dove down next to him and reached for my IFAC, only to realize that it was empty, we had used it all on our already wounded teammates. as I tried to stop the blood he chuckled out, "Well, maybe now everyone will call you by your actual name, eh?". and those were the last words he said. I stumbled back, yes I was used to death, but I never thought my squad, we were the best, no one could touch us, and when we got hurt the whole squad was always there to get us out, but here it was just me, and I couldn't let two more of my teammates die, no way in hell.
The rest of the night went by as a blur as I went from house to house, street to street, alley to alley, putting down every man with a weapon, I was shot, stabbed, and blown up countless times, but I refused to stop. I had people counting on me. I am not sure how many there were , I heard nearly 50, but in the end it didn't even matter by the time the medics got to the alley where it all started, all they found were three corpses'.
after this I still wasn't called by my name some of the boys started calling me "wraith", One day I asked, "Wraith, why Wraith and not ghost, or something like that?" and they told me, "a ghost is never seen just floats around maybe scares a few grandmas or kids, to make sure that they are remembered. But a wraith comes back with a vengeance, with purpose, they are seen, but leave no one to remember."
I guess it came as a little surprise when nearing the end of my deployment I was called into my commanders office. He told me that the intel officers were hearing strange storied of people going insane and killing anyone they could in a Russian country called Chernarus, he said he was sending me as a light recon to move through the highly rural countryside to see if there is any truth to these stories, I guess it will be a nice vacation in the countryside, maybe hunt some deer while im there, not sure why he's not sending some CIA spook to check this out or even just a rookie, wonder what I did to get on his bad side and get shipped out, well, im sure it's nothing, I'll just try to enjoy it.
Jason grew up never living near large cities, his parents raised him on a ranch where he learned to use firearms and survive off the land. At a very young age sometimes going days, almost weeks living off the land. He loves the brutal challenge that he is forced to face when when surviving in the brutal outdoors, but even though he loves the challenge sometimes he has taken it too far and his body has paid the price, he is missing his left pinkie toe due to frostbite and his body has a myriad of scars from incidents or animal attacks. At a young age Jason was taught by his parents to always stand up for the little guy, and since the outbreak this has gotten him into trouble more often than not. He has tried to avoid entering others affairs and troubles, but soon after the outbreak he saw a young woman being brutally robbed and nearly tortured to death by a group of 4 bandits who appeared to derive pleasure only from seeing others in a worse position than them, stalking them and stepping out from the tree line Jason killed three of them before they could react and ready their weapons the forth however, managed to land a glancing blow with a shovel, giving him his scar before Jason could wrestle the weapon away, but he did not see the 5th... Jason woke up soon after, tied up next to the women he tried to save. she was worse off than when he had last seen her, unconscious, weather from pain or loss of blood he could not tell. As he quickly sat up he was immediately yelled at, "Don't F***ing move!!!" It was then that he saw the two remaining bandits. One, the one which he had fought with was bleeding from his mouth and it looked as if his jaw may have been broken from their scuffle, he also winced when breathing, signaling cracked or broken ribs. And although his gave Jason some measure of satisfaction, he knew he did not get off much better, his head ached from being knocked out, he was pretty sure he had a concussion, and he could feel the blood flowing down the right side of his face, he could only hope that the cut didn't go straight through his cheek. While the injured man appears to be a little busy with his injuries, the uninjured 5th... looking into his eyes Jason could see unfettered hate, he had killed this mans mates, and with a gulp he realized this man had every intention on making him pay. Minutes, Hours, Days... Jason could not tell, as he noticed with the girl these men took pleasure in seeing others suffer, and this was all made worse as they were not doing this simply for pleasure but for revenge. It was personal. What seemed like an eternity later Jason came to a harsh realization, that the world no longer had room for kindness, only those who were willing to do whatever it takes to survive this hell that he used to call his home. And with this realization he began to form a plan... Several hours later Jason walked away from the now, abandoned building, covered in blood, his eyes had a dangerous glint in them, and he knew that what he did was wrong, but... there was no longer right and wrong, only, survivors.