2 comments/ 4006 views/ 0 favorites A Soldier's Due By: DanteofSparda This story is dark. Do not be confused with my other slightly lighter hearted one. It's purpose is to prepare you for how far I might go with my stories. I toned it down as much as I could, but it gets pretty heavy either way. It is in the same universe as Mykris Hale's story, but has different characters. I already had this pretty much half-finished when you all said to continue Spritely Fellow so I finished up this section and am going back now. Be warned about this stories weight. Seriously. * I remember when I wasn't a part of this. I was just your average U.S. army grunt. I had joined straight outta college. Most of my platoon came in from high school but my parents always held education to a higher standard than most. They wouldn't let me join until I had "something to do when I got back". At first I was pissed when they said they would cut me off, so in rebellion I head out to the recruiter after twelfth grade. Something stopped me right outside of the recruitment office. I saw all those posters showing the glory and honor in military service on the windows and realized that I couldn't do this without their blessing. Next thing I know I'm filling out college applications left and right. Given how late I was doing all this, I couldn't get in to any school except the state university. I decided to go to Sac State since it was close to home and had a decent ROTC program for me. For my entire first year I acted bitter after being "forced" to go to college. Being young meant not admitting I was wrong to my parents and trying my best to act like my privileged life was messed up. I acted gloomy and withdrawn, but still couldn't help laughing and hanging out with friends. Hell I even went to parties at the end of that year so I couldn't maintain the act. Three weeks into the first semester of my second year, I started to wear brighter more open colors and tried to socialize with everyone. Making up for lost time I suppose. I had an English class that I was late to in the most worn out building in the place, Douglass hall. I got halfway up the stairs before I realized I was half an hour late. Getting yelled at by the professor wasn't worth the last forty five minutes on how to write a paragraph. On my way out I literally ran into her. I opened the door and got blinded by the waiting sun. I shielded my eyes before walking right into someone. I staggered backwards and looked down to see a woman with auburn hair on the ground rubbing her nose and trying to pick up her stuff. "Sor-" "Watch where you're going asshole!" She got to her feet and shoved me out of the way. I know not the most romantic first encounter. I stared at her incredulously before I figured she wasn't worth my time. I brushed myself off and head off to the main hall to try and grab lunch before the rush. After paying for my Panda Express and waiting patiently for my food, they tell me that it will be about thirty minutes because of an accident in the kitchen. I just smiled and nodded and told them it was fine. I was starving and a little on edge because of that lady earlier, but sure take your time. Forty five minutes later, they come back out and hand me two Panda bowls saying they gave an extra to make up for the wait. By now the whole mess hall was crawling with students. I settled into one of the tables in the corner and took out a book to read as I ate. "Oh what the fuck is this line! Oh that's okay I didn't feel like eating until judgment day." I checked my watch as the speaker fell into a seat in the next table over. It was eleven thirty and she wanted a short line. I chuckled and shook my head as I went back to my book. I popped open the cap on my second bowl and flipped the page. My curiosity reminded me that I had to at least look at her. She had her head face down on her arms on the desk in defeat as I looked her over. Her auburn hair barely reached her arms at the sides and tried to blend in with her tanned skin. I was a boy in college so naturally I started to check her out. Her breasts were hanging just in sight from where I was sitting so I'd wager a high C or a low D in the cup range. I still don't understand bra sizes to this day. She was wearing shorts that went to mid-thigh and a short sleeved shirt with some wild design that I couldn't make out. Her hips barely flared out, but just enough to make a nice tight ass. Not the most flattering description, but I was a lucky I even noticed her hair or her clothing at that age. What I did wasn't entirely out of kindness, but I closed my book and walked over to her table with my food. I sat down across from her and dropped my arms heavily on the table. She raised her head slightly but her hair still covered her face. Not good enough for me yet. I stuck a fork in my chow mein and slid it across the table as bait. Her head sprung up as she basically started inhaling the food. I'm pretty sure she didn't chew as the bowl disappeared into her mouth. It wasn't even messy either. No food got on the table or her shirt or anything. When she finished she dropped the fork in the bowl and slowly leaned back into the chair. She was presumably about to sigh with content when she saw me. I had frozen with my hand halfway across the table from handing her the bowl and my mouth wide open. I was completely stunned by the sheer speed with which she had eaten the bowl. We both sat there staring at each other as she began to blush. She was about to apologize before I realized that it was her that I had run into earlier. Her earlier behavior mixed with her skilled gluttony was just too much for me. I started laughing so hard that tears came out of my eyes and my sides hurt. It wasn't long before she realized who I was and started to laugh along with me. I think hers was more to play off what she just did. We both sat in the corner of that lunch room roaring with laughter until our stomachs were in too much pain to continue. She told me her name was Jennifer Doane. I told her mine was Brandon Jorian. Turns out we were in the same English class. I never missed it again and got the seat next to her. First we were friends, but by my fourth year we were lovers. After graduation we got married to each other. Beautiful ceremony on a cliff side in Mendocino County. The sky was almost clear and my parents almost didn't cry. She looked beautiful in her dress with the ocean air tossing her hair across her face with her eyes welling up with tears. I shipped out two months later from the rotc program. In boot camp I got a lot of shit from my Drill Sergeant when he found out I delayed my recruitment for my wife. Got even more shit from my bunkmates when they started making jokes about me escaping the married life. Truth be told, I only joined the Army at that point because I promised myself I would when I was younger and because it got money back home for Jennifer. Whenever we had break I would head to the comms stations and call home. I would spend about half an hour on the phone with my parents and as much time as I could grab with my wife. Even mentioning it gave me a little shiver down my spine. Every leave I got was spent with her. I was only home for a few months out of the year, but me and her planned it all out so it would be full of memories. We even had a kid. She surprised me with the news after three years. Little boy that we named Zeke. I was in the army for five years living the dream whenever I got home. I was 27 when it happened. I head back for my leave and walked in the door to our home. Zeke was bouncing up and down in this little baby seat with wheels. He just stared at me with this wide smile on his face. Jennifer came around the corner looking as beautiful as ever. Her hair was swept back and kept in place by some sort of hair spray. She froze before sprinting to me and effectively tackling me with a hug. "You aren't supposed to be home until next month!" "Got off early to catch our anniversary. So where's my present?" I let her go and held out my hand expectantly. She smacked me upside the head before grabbing the back of it and pulling me into a kiss. I had been waiting for this the entire ride back. Maybe it was all the army food, but her lips had sweeter taste than anything I had ever experienced. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close. She pulling on my head until it hurt, but we were too caught up in each other to notice. Our tongues danced with each other as my hands began to roam. A small squeak pulled me out of the moment. I broke the kiss and saw Zeke had stopped bouncing and was just staring at us. I coughed to get her attention when she started to pull on my head again. "Maybe we could hire a babysitter?" Her eyes sprung wide open as she turned to look at the boy. She laughed as she walked over to pick him up. "Say hello to Daddy, Zeke." Jennifer grabbed his arm and waved it for him. I walked over to pick him up. He just stared at me with those big blue eyes of his. After a few moments he started running his hand over my beard in wonder. This lasted a few moments before he grabbed and pulled. "AAAAND that's enough! Alright let's get you back to mommy. I need to go and shave this hazardous material off." I kissed them both on the cheek and dodged Zeke's hand as he went for an encore before heading off to get shaved. Jennifer put Zeke back in his chair before calling out to me. "I thought your lumberjack auditions were soon? Won't they get pissed if you don't have the beard." She said in a mock concerned tone. "Ha...Ha" I said as I leaned out of the bathroom with shaving cream and a unamused stare on my face. She tried talking as the electric razor turned on. Probably more jokes at my expense. After a few minutes my face was smooth and I headed out to the dining room. Food was probably done by then. Sure enough Jennifer came out holding three plates that she placed in front of us. "I believe I deserve a thanks for managed to make an extra batch of spaghetti on such short notice." She closed her eyes and held her chin up waiting for compliments. After a few seconds I realized she wasn't going to sit down until she got a compliment. She really went all the way when she did this. "I'm sure Gordon Ramsey would be proud." "Ew. Someone else." "The Bam chef" "The Ew still stands" "That guy is awesome though! C'mon it's a good compliment." I channeled my inner wounded puppy into my eyes. "Well I suppose if you find it important it will have to do." She said with her best disappointed British queen voice. She sat down before looking at me expectantly. "So where are we going?" Every guy in a relationship has had this feeling before. I started racing through all of our conversations looking for something I had agreed to. "The camping trip?" I just stared at her with a blank stare and a smile. "So that camping trip with the thing that issss...?" "Next week." she said with a look that told me she was not amused. "I thought you said you didn't expect me back until next month?" "And then I said while you were manscaping that we should go camping next week." "Ooooohhhhh, yeah I couldn't hear you." I started to put a meatball into my mouth when a spaghetti landed square on my face. I looked up to see Jennifer pointing at Zeke. "That is low, Jen. Blaming a two year old? For shame." I chided before returning to my food. A few moments passed before a meatball hit me square in the face. I didn't even look before retaliating with a meatball of my own. "Hey! This is a new dress, asshat!" she started wiping down her dark blue form fitting dress to get the spaghetti sauce off. "I dunno. I think red goes well with it." I dodged the next meatball before holding up my hands in defeat. "So I was thinking we could head to Tahoe or something to camp out. Nice and cool to counter this summer heat." "The water will be too cold for Zeke, wouldn't it?" "We can find a cabin with a hot tub or something." I started liking this idea all the more as I went. "Maybe find someplace with a place fireplace and a view. Long romantic nights of candlelit dinners and chick flicks." "Uh huh. Just so you know we are sleeping with Zeke between us." "Metaphorically?" "No." "So about that babysitter..." We settled the details over dinner and prepared for the rest of the week. Zeke was going with us so we made sure to have an entire suitcase for his necessities. We head out early on Monday to beat the traffic. I drove since I never got the chance in the convoys. Our sedan didn't have the push of a Humvee, but it was a more comfortable ride to be sure. Took us about four hours to get to our cabin. It was about a quarter mile from one of the smaller lakes in Tahoe. We set up camp and had a great time as a complete family for a few days. I can't remember most of it. I really wish I could, but the memory just isn't there anymore. I know that we were together and I have this image in my head of Zeke giggling on Jennifer's knee next to the campfire. The wind tossed her hair to the side as she smiled down at him. The firelight danced off of their faces and a few embers entered my field of vision. The moon was reflected off of the lake behind them. That moment is burned into my memories. Three days after we got there, the day ended like any of the others would have. We settled down into our cabin bedroom for the night. The windows let in the moonlight on this crisp night. I lay flat on my back and Jennifer was curled up around Zeke. I remember that night vividly. About fifteen minutes after midnight I woke up. Something didn't feel right. It was the air. It felt thick, like it took extra effort to suck it in. This and the time of night made me groggy. Zeke started crying next to me and I was so tired I could only mumble. "Jen, it's your turn." His cries continued. She never made him wait when he was crying. She couldn't stand to hear him in pain. I started to roll over when the crying cut off with a thunk. I flipped off the covers as I rolled back over and got up to a crouch. A jagged dark brown blade four inches wide and at least three feet long lay jutting out of my child. The blade was coated in some greasy substance and was died dark red at the base from his blood. His little chest was stretched wide from the size of the blade. He probably died instantly. At least I like to think so. "Zeke? ZEKE? What the fu...WHAT THE FUCK! Nononono NO." I tried pulling the blade out but it burned at the touch. My hand went numb and I could barely move my fingers. The blade didn't give an inch. It was planted through the bed into the floor. His blood was soaking into the bedsheets around him. He had the blank stare of the dead. A cold sweat gathered on my brow as a sour pit formed in my stomach. My hand came to my mouth to stop from vomiting. "Please God no." I froze there when I noticed. Jennifer was gone. I swallowed as much of my emotions as I could. I got off the bed and grabbed my sidearm and flashlight from my nightstand. The soldier in me overwrote the father that was grieving. Zeke was dead, but Jennifer might still be alive. I ran around the bed and saw the same sickly substance from the blade on the floor in footsteps. Whoever it was stood there just a second ago. How the hell did I not see him? When I got to the door I spun around to look at Zeke once more. His tiny body was so pale. His pajamas were soaked through with his blood and his eyes were rolled back into his head. That pit started coming back as the father in me started returning so I left the room and started clearing the rest of the cabin. Everything was exactly as it was. Nothing was taken, not even the TV or my laptop. The other bedroom's window was open. It must have been unlocked. The greasy footsteps told me that they entered from here, but there were no return tracks. Jennifer had to still be here. I kept going and all the doors and other windows were locked. Yes she had to still be here. I heard a clatter in the kitchen and killed the flashlight. The door leading to it was cracked and light poured through so I snuck up to the doorframe. I peeked inside and realized why I couldn't see him in the dark. He was wearing a black cloak that covered his body save for his arms and head, both of which were heavily disfigured. Boils and sores covered his bald head and hands. They seemed to be oozing out some sort of brown sludge that coated his body in disgusting streaks. His nose was half rotted off and his teeth were mostly missing as a black substance flowed freely out of his mouth. He looked like a walking infection wrapped up in rotting flesh. Jennifer was laying on the counter with his putrid hand over her mouth. He was reeking his black nails over her face as tears rolled down her face. The ooze from the sores on his hands sizzled when they came into contact with her skin. I gritted my teeth but stayed put. This thing wasn't normal and dying wouldn't help her. I started scanning the room and noticed one of the chairs was missing. The man wasn't using it so someone must have moved it. There was no grease so it couldn't have been him. He wasn't alone. His hand started to drift down her neck leaving acidic burns in its wake. He ran his index finger to the neck of her shirt and started to burn through. Red started to encroach on my eyes. I shook my head and tried to stay level headed. The burned skin on her face was almost completely eaten through with muscled beginning to show. He was halfway through her shirt with his finger when he finally spoke. "You will create many beautiful creations for me." His voice sounded like his throat was full of rotted flesh too. He wheezed and sputtered when he spoke, but not in the way that meant weakness. It was like a smokers cough; He was used to it. He finished cutting her shirt and pressed his hand hard into her stomach. "You are ripe for their birth. It will be so satisfying to watch you die for them." He started to rear back his hand in preparation to slam it into her stomach when I finally kicked open the door. There was red at the edges of my vision and my hand was starting to shake with rage. This son of a bitch KILLED my son and he was trying to MURDER my wife. I would watch him bleed and beg if I had the time, but she was still alive and needed me. A calm washed over me as I was about to pull the trigger. I felt my breath coming in and out. My hands became still and my vision sharpened. I saw only this man before me and the woman he was trying to kill. I barely felt the recoil when I fired. He had begun to turn when I kicked the door, so I had a clear shot at his chest. The first bullet flew straight into his heart. The second, third, and fourth found their way into his lungs. His whole body shook with each shot, but his mouth stayed firm on her mouth. A blackened sludge poured out of his wounds and ate through his clothing. He was still standing. I raised my gun to level with his forehead and squeezed the trigger. A hand swung into my field of view. It slammed into the top of my gun as I pulled the trigger. The bullet flew into the man's torso instead of his skull. A second hand came into view balled up in a fist. It moved too fast for me to do anything. My head collided with the doorframe after it finished getting hit with the fist. Black spots danced across my vision as those hands grabbed me and threw me across the kitchen to the floor next to Jennifer. "I told you that you woke the man." The one who hit me spoke in a spanish accent. "You should have finished him off too. Now it would seem you have a few more holes to spew that terrible smell." He had a pale face with a bleached darker skin tone like he was albino or something. His black hair was pulled into a single long ponytail and his two piece suit were far too classy for the woods. He was speaking to the walking pile of rot next to me. The one I shot five times. A Soldier's Due "The little brat woke him, not me. I couldn't pull my blade out of the ground to finish him so I let my aura put him back to sleep...or I thought I did." How was it still talking? I craned my head, bringing on a new round of pain, to see the man. His cloak had opened when he spun around, giving me a clean view of his torso. Like his head, it was dotted with sores and puss filled abscesses that let a steady stream of waste flow out. The bullet wounds looked like they should with the slight puckering of the skin and the holes clean cut, but instead of blood a vile black liquid poured out instead. I watched it harden at the source until it looked no different than the sores on the rest of his body. "If he had landed the head shot, I wouldn't be forced to speak with you anymore. I could also just drink her dry somewhere where I wouldn't have to smell you either." My nose picked up this smell he had been talking about and I retched almost immediately. It was like someone had dropped dead bodies into a sewer, let it bake in the sun for a day and then funneled it all into my nose. The Spaniard laughed. "Even as they die they can't stand your stench." I was having trouble breathing form both the impact with the wall and the vomit in my throat. It was getting harder to stay conscious with every moment. I kept forgetting why I was there or why I was in pain. The image of my murdered baby came to bear in my mind. The black spots in my vision were soon accompanied by red creeping into sight. I looked up at Jennifer, ignoring the pain, and planted one arm on the ground. I started rising, shaking off the nausea and the fatigue. I started thinking where I was in the kitchen. Jennifer was on the other side of the sink from me. I was next to the cutting boards so the knives should be right above me on the counter. I'd have to move fast. The cloaked man had thrown back his head and started dry heaving. The vampire backed up to his side of the room and looked away in disgust. "It is about time that we got this over with Garb. I wish to feast on the man soon." I was moving as fast as I could, but I still wasn't getting up fast enough. It would take at least a minute to get on my feet at this rate. I raised my head slowly to make sure he was still looking away. His head was still thrown back and the black liquid was running down the side of his face. IT seemed to be getting thicker until it was a slow crawl from his mouth. I kept my eyes locked on the base of his skull as I rose. That calm came back. The pain that was flaring up seemed to fade under the cool flood of this focus. I no longer staggered and stopped as I stood. The pain and the rage fell away and were instead replaced with an extreme clarity. I couldn't think faster or do the extraordinary, but I knew exactly what I was capable of and how to do it. My vision sharpened until it was just me and him. I took note where the Spaniard was and which way the body would fall when I finished. I relished in this control. I wasn't going to try my best to kill him, it had already happened and reality was just about to catch up. Every muscle in my body relaxed save for my arm and shoulder-all that I needed. My right hand grabbed a knife without having to look. I could feel where they were. The metal singing against the wood range in the silence that had come. I stood to my full height behind him and just watched as he shook in his convulsions. I saw him lean forward ready to vomit. I had his life in the palm of my hand. I chose whether he lived or died. It was then that I made the greatest mistake of my entire life. I waited. I was so intoxicated by this control that I had forgotten all about Jennifer and why I was here to begin with. My emotions had fallen to a lesser priority when this calm took its place. A very powerful sort of apathy came with the knowledge that he would never leave this room alive. I watched him cave forward and saw the torrent of pitch fly from his mouth onto Jennifer's stomach. His hand came off her mouth as he hugged himself as he vomited. Where his hand had been, streaks of the same black substance remained. Much of her lower jaw ad been eaten away and her toungue was a small stub of what it used to be. Her cheeks were completely gone and blood flowed freely from the back of her mouth. Her scream when she finally breathed in snapped me out of it. The calm rushed away and my humanity came back with a burden of guilt. MY hands started shaking and I felt the pain all over my body again. Before it robbed me of control I swung the knife high and brought it down on the base of his skull. There was no doubt this hurt him. The retching stopped as his legs gave out beneath him. I didn't have to pull the blade out as his blood had disintegrated everything below the grip. I heard a chair fall behind me, presumably the Spaniard getting up to take me out. I had a few seconds before he could cross the kitchen. I rushed to Jennifer, kicking aside Garb's body, and propped her head up. She was still breathing, but she seemed to pass out from the pain. Everything below her nose was mangled and dissolving. The vomit had begun to eat into her stomach, but something seemed to be moving in there. I went to look closer at what was wriggling in the muck when I felt a rush of wind behind me. It hadn't been two seconds since I killed the guy. There was no way the Spaniard crossed the length of the room without me hearing him running. I spun around and stared at the Spaniard, barely two inches from my face, smiling down at me. "Thank you for killing Garb for me. Now I don't have to split the pay. As a reward, I won't kill you." His icy breath washed over me as he spoke. It carried the heavy scent of iron with it. His lips parted as his malicious smile widened. His canines were far too long. The word entered my mind before I could stop it. Vampire. I didn't believe it, but I knew that it made sense for what I had heard. I stepped as far back as I could and raised my fists. He wasn't going to get Jennifer as long as I was still breathing. I swung at his head, a quick jab, enough to make him flinch or dodge into my follow-up swing. He leaned one way slower than he would need to dodge. I thought I had him until he swung right. He was a blur as he threw his weight with his lean as momentum. When the blur stopped he had landed a ridiculously hard swing on my right side and a solid uppercut to my exposed head. The black spots returned to my vision as I backed up and tried to get a bead on him. He sprinted towards me faster than I could get my arms up and swept my legs. I landed hard on my back followed by the crack of my fractured ribs giving way. I gasped as the pain stabbed into my lungs and spine. I turned my head to look at him as he stood over me completely composed. He wasn't even breathing heavy. "Your wife will be dead when you wake up and your child lays as a pincushion in the bedroom. I wonder if you will enjoy this gift of living that I have given you." He threw back his head in laughter when he saw the anguish in my face. I was completely fucking helpless as my wife died in front of me and my baby boy died next to me. He walked out of my line of sight before coming back with my pistol. "In case you want to take the express way out." It's like he read my mind. He dropped it next to my head and held his leg back to kick me. Jennifer woke up and started screaming again. She called out my name, hoping I would save her from what was happening. I started to weep as his foot connected and the darkness consumed me. I woke up cold. Freezing. I lay there waiting for my senses to come back and then I waited some more wishing they hadn't ever been there. My leg was fractured, ribs broken, jaw dislocated, right hand numb, and sore in every place in between. It hurt to breathe and hurt more when I tried to not breathe. I tried rolling on my side before my ribs stabbed me for my trouble. I waited for the pain to go back to bearable for a few minutes. It didn't do me that kindness. I would give everything I owned to lay like that. To not remember why I was lying on the floor broken and cold. The human brain is curious. It doesn't like for things to go missing, and when something happens it searches for the why. I began to question and venture to the back of my mind in search of the memories. When I found them it was like a bomb going off. All the emotions I had suppressed to find my wife and to fight for her were suppressed no longer. Somehow it hurt more than the physically broken parts. I ignored my body's protest and staggered to my feet. I limped over to the counter with my eyes closed. The smell was like a body that had been in the sun for a month. I bumped into her arm first. I touched her hand, felt the ring on her finger. Her palm was so smooth, yet so cold. I pressed my finger to her wrist to satisfy that part of my mind that was still hoping. The stillness shut it up quick. I opened my eyes and couldn't see too well through the tears. I screamed when I saw her corpse. Her mouth had decayed back to her spine with her neck barely in one piece. Her eyes had rolled back into her eyes and the blood trail out of her mouth meant she had torn her esophagus open from screaming. Something else broke near her eyes because her tears were all blood red. Her torso was normal down until the bottom of her ribs. In a v shape down to the middle of her legs, everything was dissolved down to the skin on her back. Her womb and intestines were the only things still recognizable and they looked to be torn open from the inside. I was already gagging and having trouble breathing form al the tears, but I had to know exactly what happened. Something in me NEEDED to know. I looked closer holding breath so I didn't smell anything. I saw the edges of the flesh in the womb and the sides of her torso. I couldn't stop myself anymore. I fell to my knees and puked out everything in my stomach. Something had fucking EATEN her from the inside of her womb out. Whatever he had vomited had burrowed into her womb and eaten its fucking way out. My vision blurred as I heaved from the aftershocks of vomiting. I took a deep breath, ignoring the stabbing pain from ribs. I inhaled everything my lungs would hold. My son's mangled body and my wife's half eaten and decayed corpse were the only thing I saw. When my lungs felt like they would burst, I screamed. I screamed and howled and roared. I told the night of my anger, regret, weakness, grief, and my pure and simple declaration of defeat. This world had nothing more for me. I don't remember carrying my child's body to rest next to his mother. I don't remember taking every bullet but one from my gun. I don't remember calling the police and leaving the line open so that they would receive a proper burial. The only thing that I remember after I yelled was the cold metal of the barrel against the side of my head, and pain in my broken hand when I pulled the trigger. I couldn't defend my wife or my child. I couldn't fight to any extent against the vampire. They died because I just couldn't do anything. The only thing I want, is to kill everyone who makes others feel like this and for the vampire to die after everything he loves is murdered in front of him. But I'll settle for the silence and the darkness that the little ball of metal hurtling through my skull gives. For a moment, I saw them lying in the bed with each other. The moonlight made them glow when I turned the light off. Good night Jennifer and Zeke. I love you.