Author: Taim PM
A -unofficial- prolouge to my series -Not posted yet- To Be Human. A man's last thoughts in a secret war and the feelings of the Whyn who finds his journal. T just in case.Rated: Fiction T - English - Supernatural/Suspense - Words: 853 - Published: 06-19-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3033795
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So, just a random piece that popped into my head. Enjoy :)
After the trap had been triggered and the target taken care of, I was sent in to collect the body and anything that left evidence that we were here. As I walked into the warehouse, the air filled with the smell of blood and death, I noticed that there was a pen and worn looking leather journal. Curiosity urged me to open it and read. I
The words I found in those journal will haunt me the rest of my life. This man wasn't just an enemy to be hunted and killed. He was a man, a father with a loving wife and three kids. And now all of them would have to be found and killed as well.
War Journal, December 19, 2012
It's only a few days until Christmas, and yet I haven't gotten anything for my kids. I've been too busy fighting to even think about them really. This is one of those few quiet moments when the monsters go away and I get time with my thoughts. Unfortunately, this 'quiet time' is only because those creatures are baracaded outside... for the moment at least.
Now that I can think, I regret so much. I should have been with Maria more when she was pregnant. I should have been there for the birth of our son, and then for our twin daughters. Three children, and the first time I met them was days after they were born. Now that Jake is 15 and Emma and Annie are both 12, I wish I had spent more time with them. I should have been a better father for them, a better husband for Maria. I should have been a better everything. If I was a better person, I could have saved them, and myself, from the pain of being away. If I was a better man, I would've been there for them. If I was a better fighter, I wouldn't be here now.
I wouldn't die here tonight.
No, no, I shouldn't think that. It means I've already given up. I should be thinking of strategies, of fighting the enemy. Not dying. Not of my kids and wife looking at my grave. Would they even cry? Would they care at all? Had I been there enough to earn, to deserve, any emotion? These questions... I should've done enough good things so that I wouldn't even worry about these things.
But I hadn't done any good things... I had been too obsessed, no consumed, by these things to even spend a whole night with my wife, a whole day with our kids. I had left as soon as I had gotten a clue at the creatures' next move, or a hint that I had found one, or even a feeling that I had caught one in the many traps I laid. Now I was caught in the trap I had designed. They had discovered it, replicated it better than my own idea, and had led me straight into it. Which is where I am now...
(Crooked handwriting here, suggesting a trembling hand) I just heard them out there, looking for a way in. I don't think I have much time left. If someone ever finds this, please tell Maria I love her and the kids and I'm sorry I wasn't there for them. I wish I had been a better father, a better man for her. I'm sorry I let this war completely take over my life, our lives together...
I hear them again, on the roof. Their claws scratching the metal... I just saw the skylight, their shadows passing over it. They really are monstrosities, with webbed wings and twisted shapes. They are starting to break through! I have to stop writing for now. Hopefully I can fend them off long enough to
The entry stops here... My chest feels hollow... These humans we're fighting, they're not just monsters hunting us. I knew that before, but now... It's so much realer now. They're just like us, with homes and families and people they love... Is it even right for us to fight them? Why not try to live together, in peace? I'm sure their leaders will prefer a peaceful coexistance instead of this long, bitter war.
I can't have these thoughts now. I have a job to do, and I have to get it over with before someone comes snooping. And I've already wasted enough time reading this journal. Now I have to go burn it along with what's-his-face... But maybe no one will notice if I take it back home... I can read the rest of it there, maybe show Dusk. He'd understand how I feel. We've talked about it before, about how this war isn't worth fighting...
But back to the job at hand. Where should I dump this guy? And what 'accident' should he have been in..?