《Path》


 Prologue I

    Looking back, a sensation of tremendous pain running down from a rotating head to lower back as the eyes caught a glimpse of distant lights flashing through branches and holes in tree trunks the size of bullets, the feeling of something being lost rushed in, triggering some deep-seated nostalgia. What was lost? What was taken away? Does it even exist? What is ''it''? Why am I afraid, trembling with fear, fear of losing something, something valuable to someone, something I can''t really understand? Questioning oneself about one''s understanding of that thing, thoughts as such flooded through the mind of the head shaking in pain, intermittently disturbed by the head''s body being dragged across uneven and rough ground leaving a blood trail, slowed by dangling legs that fail to work and a gradual loss of hope. The hands wrapped around the chest of the human dragging the head''s body, tightly gripping its hands and pushing forward with all might and force. What makes someone a human? Is it the muscles, bones, blood, organs, body parts, face, brain, ... a soul? What is the source of life inside a human body? Do I still have it? Have I lost it? When....how....why? Did I even have it at the start? Was I even born a human? Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

 Prologue II

    A human reaches their limit after much struggle, weariness followed by despair and hopelessness weighing the human down as he pushes forward with the last of his strength, slowed down by the weight of the human body wrapping its hands around the human. Names were all they had to distinguish themselves, to prove their individuality, but names are just words made up by other humans. The human by the name of Earnest, moving with his dying strength, was motivated by the promise of saving another''s life as he carried the human wrapped around his chest with a strong grip, maneuvering around branches and unknown forestland shrouded by the dark guided only by the fraction of his remaining hope and the value of his promise to safeguard the life with his dying breath. Swiftly moving from cover to cover evading the gunfire chasing them, a party of 20 or so armed with assault rifles, Earnest decided to stop in the thick of cover from trees and bushes, resting the body he swore to protect carefully on the ground. The body rests, lying on the floor with no movement, and stays in the rest position without saying a word as if it was all alone. There they were, in the dead of night, in dark silence, distant noises from the party chasing them getting closer. Earnest felt his rifle hanging around and across his lower chest, held by a strap around his left shoulder and under his right arm.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    "Stay put, I can fight!".


    He took cover behind a tree, pulled up his rifle, aiming down sights with his weapon pushed against his right shoulder, peeking from the right side of the tree. He placed his index finger on the trigger, patiently waiting for the chasing party, prepared to shoot to kill.

 Prologue III

    Surrounded by chips of oak, splintered in moments from the wild spray of the crossfire, Earnest ducked down to cover after taking only a few shots. He could see the body right in front of him, laying on the ground, concealed behind bushes and thicket of the field. Staring at the body made him realize the reality of the current situation. He found himself pondering, losing initiative, losing hope. Then he reminded himself that this must be done, repeating his mantra pushed under the echoing noises of the attacking party, gunshots, spraying bullets impacting the woods. He tried to block out everything, and paid no heed to the ongoing slaughter. His ragged breaths overlayed the mantra he whispered to himself. He looked down at the body one last time, the living-breathing body of meat laying in front of him, not budging an inch, still as a dead body, yet alive. The immense value he placed in the life he must now safeguard no matter the cost.


    He throws a small log of wood on his left, as far as he could get it and swiftly moves to flank right. A branch shivers from the impact, deflecting the log into a piece of land concealed behind tall grass and thickets. Impaled from the intensely concentrated round of bullets by the party, the misdirection worked as he moved to flank at the moment he heard them run out of rounds aimlessly shooting at the dead trees. He pulled out his trusty blade while his gun hung around him, piercing the first person he could catch off-guard. The blade skewered into the jugular, spraying his face with the enemy''s blood. He pulled out and sheathed his blade, and used the body as armor as he aimed his gun from below the meat shield''s left arm, short bursts of concentrated shots taking out the targets as efficiently as possible. He managed to cut through four people, before the alerted ones finished reloading and returned fire. The meat shield burst with sprays of blood, as the bullets riddled it with holes all over. He kept pushing, shooting whatever was in front of him. The remaining group spread out, surrounding him and limiting his cover. He pushed the body to his right to fend off the incoming shots from the right flank and faced the left group head-on. The inane bravery of a young soldier, serving the ideas and beliefs that define him. He pushed forward, pushing against the force of bullets impaling him, until he dropped to his knees. He lost all strength before he could fire even a single shot at the men he faced.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it."We live to die for freedom" he mumbled, saying his mantra one last time, as he grinned smugly at the enemy standing over him readying his handgun. A clean head shot. Perfectly centered, making it all the way from his forehead through his brain and leaving a clean exit wound on the back of his head. A perfect hole through his head as his body dropped on its back. In the moments of death he could only see the empty darkness that was cast upon the world, not even a single star to fill light into the empty void. Leaving only a dead smile behind, he looked up to the sky with a deep and tragic sadness as his eyes finally lost their light where his hope had disappeared long ago.