18-12-2024, 08:42 PM
Kaesama, April 14th
Quote:Anton took a drag of his cigarette looking around the piles of rubble that were now inner Kasaema, he hadn't smoked before the fighting began but the peer pressure got to him, and it gave his nostrils relief from the overwhelming scents even if for a small time; The sickly sweet smell of burnt corpses, the copper scent of blood, and the stench of Sulphur that permeated the concrete, it seemed there was nowhere he could go that wasn't offensive. Anton closed his eyes and sat reflecting, he was only 17 years old, his emotions were conflicted, before the legion he felt purposeless, he joined the paramilitaries as soon as a branch had opened in his township and eager to fire a gun for the first time joined up. He had put on his balaclava and black uniform filled with a youthful pride he'd never experienced, he felt invincible marching lockstep down the streets of his village with crowds cheering and pretty young girls throwing flowers, but his parents never showed, nor many of his old compatriots. "Fascist, traitor, stupid young brat", he'd heard all the names, but he didn't care, to hold a cold rifle in his hand alongside his new brothers filled him with a sense of belonging he had lacked his whole life, he felt as if a missing puzzle piece had finally been set in place.
Now, after the battle of Kaesama, he had killed his first man, an older soldier surely but no more than his mid twenties. He'd been storming the defenses surrounding one of the governmental buildings, his ears still ringing from the cacophony of sounds in that brutal fight even days later, he remembered rushing forward with his comrades yelling as they clamored over the hastily erected barricades, he remembered the flamethrowers and screams, and the look of the pale blue eyes of a young soldier that met his own turning a hallway, but Anton had been faster. He never heard the shots, but he felt the hot casing hit his face as he held down the trigger until the man was on the floor spasming and screaming until his cries were silenced with a bullet between the eyes.
Anton opened his eyes in pain, the cigarette had burned down to the nub searing his fingers, flicking it into the dirt. More adrenaline pumping action had happened in the past week than all the years of school and his childhood, the legion was celebrating across the city and vowed to hang all the traitors they caught, but as much as he was patted on the back and congratulated, given a small medal for his bravery "Close combat clasp in bronze", Anton wondered if he'd made the right choice, his parents had basically disowned him as they fled south with the refugees, most of his friends had run too, and some had even died in the shelling. He shook his head, of course Sladek was right, the KPP had started this nonsense, we won the elections fair and square, we are the vanguard that would lead Kundrati into a destiny of glory and majesty, we would be the heroes future generations would sing songs about.
Right?