Our squad has entered the village as per the orders, we were supposed to search for the guy who was instigating locals to join the cause of this shitty little rebellion that torn the country apart. I can't care less honestly, it's not our problem. But orders are orders, so here we are - in a desert of a country under the scorching sun.

Villagers didn't look too happy seeing soldiers with guns but didn't try to do anything stupid. Good. Let's just get this check-up over with and we can all return to our daily lives. You - back to your donkeys or whatnot, me - back to the gunner's seat in the APC.

- Norm, you 'kay? Ain't looking good, bro.

- I'm fine, Fox, I'm fine. It's just the bloody heat getting to me.

- Aye, I hear ya. Real fucking scorcher. Sarge, you know when they'll fix the pipes back at the base already? We'll kick the bucket at this rate.

- Well aren't you a precious dainty princess. Don't worry, the repair team should arrive at some point today's evening. Tomorrow tops.

- Noice. Barracks have turned into gas cameras from all the BO. Maybe the stench will go away a little.

Fox knocks on the door of one of the one-story houses and pushes it.

For a split second I hear a deafening sound and a bright flash, then my body flies away in the opposite direction and slams into a mud hut across the street.

My ears are ringing. All I hear are muffled screams and gunshots. With my blurry vision I locate Fox and Sarge. What's left of them, that is. Fox is a bloody mess - just a mangled corpse strewn across the entire street in pieces - I think he soaked up most of the shrapnel, saving my ass. As for Sarge... He's far less fortunate. I can see him laying there with bulging eyes, half of his face torn away. Such a shame, I remember how we all were frequently making fun of his 80es porno moustache. And now he's just a walking deadman with his leg and half the face blown away. His death is set in stone, but unlike Fox he'll have to suffer a lot before heaving the last breath.

As I try to normalize my breathing, I see that our side is already at a huge disadvantage - APC was blown to shit with several blasts of RPG-7 and zealots are pouring like cockroaches from every building. Fucking recon team, "no enemy activity spotted" my ass. You've just killed us all.

I'm crawling away on all fours, incapable of getting myself together. Rifle was lost somewhere in the explosion, can't even protect myself. Bloody hell.

I stumble away from the conflict into a back alley - if you can call it that - a girl some twelve years old appears as if out of nowhere. Alright, easy. Can't have her screaming and driving attention to me. I scramble my scattered thoughts to remember the hack job of a language lessons we received at the base for some minimal conversational capabilities with the locals.

- Me...enemy not...me...go after...go after...away. Good?

To that she started angrily chittering away, I have fuck all idea what she is saying. However, there's one word I recognize.

"Infidel"

Easy now, let's not make sudden movements and turn this into an ugly situation. Oh for fuck's sake!

She grabs a curved dagger and runs at me with determination to kill. Bad choice, very bad choice.

I've got no time to aim, so I grab the pistol and take a single potshot at her. Unfortunately to her, if hits her right in the guts.

Blade slips out from the tiny fingers and hits the ground. She's kneeling, touching her stomach in shock. As the brain finally processes the pain, she whimpers, tears and snot overflowing, looking at me with the "why?..." eyes of a betrayed puppy. I'm not the asshole here, kid. Blame yourself for your stupidity.

It's not my fault.

It's not my fault.

It's not my fault.

I execute her with a shot to the head, brains splattering. Greedy sand happily accepts the offering.

Sound of gunshot, a sharp pain in the back. Vest somehow manages to block it, I turn around and unload the clip into a bearded man who shot me.

Another shot from a different direction, it hits my helmet. Everything goes black before I even manage to hit the ground.

...

When I come to, I find myself stripped of my weapons, in a makeshift cell of sorts. After thoroughly roughing me up to the point I felt like a pile of meat at a butcher's shop, they threw the heads of my team mates in the cell and left. Four days. I was laying there alone with the quickly rotting heads that were once my friends for four days in the dark musty room with no water or food.

I knew they would come.

I was sure they would come.

I hoped they would come.

I prayed they would come.

I begged God and Devil for them to come.

But there was no "rescue mission". I should've known better.

Unlike many other recruits, I had no bullshit reasons to join, like "it's a man's romance", "I want some action in my life" or "I get to legally shoot people dead and get away with it".

I was simply hungry.

Underage, unwanted, unwell. A vagrant that wandered all over the place and found himself in a foreign country that was just as hostile to him as his motherland.

Legion giveth you shelter and food. Then Legion taketh your life as payment.

Fuck the Legion. Fuck the superiors. Fuck the contract. Fuck the citizenship. Fuck the petty prick who disowned and kicked me out because he wanted his retarded little puppet to inherit the company after the board of directors and investors went apeshit when they found out about his shenanigans. Fuck relatives and "friends". Mother that irresponsibly left me in that place and left by herself long, long ago can go to hell too.

There's no need to mull about anymore. Playing victim and receiving the abuse is piss easy, everyone can do it. But me, I'll never do that ever again.

I'll take my life in my own hands and go against the current for the first time in my life. I swear to fucking god that I'll live, get out of here and get back home, give that cunt of a father his just desserts, build my life from the ground up, no matter what atrocities I'll have to do.

I grab Albert's head. It's ridden with puss, smells like shit and has maggots crawling all over it like all the others. I don't care. I need strength, I need food.

It wasn't easy. I ate and puked in out, ate and puked. Cheeks, ears, eyeballs, skin, brain...

It was revolting, my stomach queasy, it was against it. Buzz off, you sissy bitch. We eat or we die, and I'm the one making the call here. Deal with it.

On the seventh day the doors opened. Beard bros. looked shocked that I was alive and kicking, minus the "slowly dying from severe food poisoning" part and explosive diarrhea.

One of them doubled over and started barfing after witnessing the insides of the room. Another started laughing like a madman, clapped, pointed at me while looking at his brethren and yapping on about something.

After that I was moved to another some sort of outdoors cage-slash-shack. I didn't resist. Now's not the time, patience. Wait for the right opportunity, John.

I became somewhat of circus freak attraction for the bored villagers. From that day on I was fed daily with fresh human meat that undeniably came from either allied soldiers or captives. Doesn't matter, food is food. Some "generous" people would piss in a bowl and slip it under the bars while laughing their asses off. Doesn't matter, water is water.

Kids would flock around my den, jump around, shout, insult and throw rocks at me. From their gibberish I deciphered the words "monster" and "devil". I see, I see. That's how it is. But you are failing to notice something important, kiddies.

Only a suicidal fucking moron would keep a monster in his house and go out of his way to piss him off.

Just you wait, bitches. Just you wait.

...

Day 16.

I hardly contain cackling that is forcefully trying to erupt from my chest.

It's here. It's here!!!

The stupid bitch forgot to lock the door!

At first I was apprehensive, thinking it's a cruel prank - give the prisoner hope, then crush it. But no, it was a simple case of negligence. I force myself to keep the poker face and wait until midnight. As the pale moon was swallowed by the clouds, serpent slid out from captivity.

I didn't leave anyone alive. A captive human might have. But you didn't capture a human, right? You said it yourself, I'm just a loathsome monster that should be beaten and ridiculed. Only a madman would expect mercy from a monster.

Men, women, children, elderly, a couple that was happily fucking and their infant child - no one escaped vengeful serpent's fangs that night.

They were all dead. Dead as shit.

I'm alive. I won.

Relief hits my body like a tidal wave, my legs give way and I kneel. All I could do was laugh merrily. At least I think I laughed - I remember sound cutting out completely at that moment. What returned my hearing back was the sound of thunder.

Heavy rain started falling on this cursed land, beating down the sand and dust. I enthusiastically rolled in the puddles like a pig, letting my parched dried up skin feel the glorious moisture.

I drank from the puddles. Ambrosia had nothing on it, it was the sweetest water I tried.

I ate the stale bread and old dried meat - it was the tastiest food I ever had.

I injected a dose of strong painkillers in my vein - it was warmer and kinder than a loving mother's embrace.

It was the happiest fucking day in my life.