Quiet, cold, and creepy. No, he was thinking of this village that they were exploring, not himself.
It was no wonder that some cadets were calling this assignment the Horror Movie Mission, and joking darkly about who was going to be the final girl. Mark considered himself a man of high unpleasantness tolerance and even he was hoping for a swift resolution. Unfortunately, in order for that to happen, they would have to find some monsters or villagers and so far, neither groups were turning up. If everyone was slaughtered already, then there should at least be some blood and body parts on the ground because monsters weren’t huge on table manners.
“Shall we have a look in there?” He gestured towards the foggy forest. They’ve wandered upon the entrance and there was no reason to be shy. “I wouldn’t normally advise to divide up the group, but since our trackers and flare guns are all broken, maybe we should have someone wait outside. This way, if we don’t return after a certain amount of time because we all died in there, someone can let the rest of the soldiers know where to find our bodies.” Morbid topic, but a necessary point of discussion.
“Why don’t you stay out, Pong?” That one looked like he was about to shit himself and would likely be of no use in the forest. “Someone else stay with him - safety in numbers, right? ” If left alone, this poor bloke might scare himself catatonic, and then Mark wouldn’t get that lovely full body burial at the sea experience that he’d always wanted after death. Hey, he had worked hard for this organization, alright? Someone promised that they would try to fulfill his postmortem wishes.
“Coming?” He turned to face Seol. As one of the few actually reliable member of this squad, she would be an asset to have. “Woowoo can light the way for us with his fire.” Mark gently nudged Siwoo to walk on ahead first because of course he would want to take his dear dorm buddy of way too many years. While they didn’t get along, their co-op survival rate was fairly impressive. Mark had a secret theory that fate was amused by their endless arguments and thus favoured them when they were on the field together.
well. if this was a ghost, she’d be the one who looks crazy when punching something invisible. jane finds in this moment, when this vision of mark brings up that day, brings up the candy, drudges up every memory of being heartbroken and crying herself to sleep, she can’t hold it in. so since she cannot scream, she punches him hard, right in the belly.
ghosts shouldn’t be solid, but her punch connects to something warm. confusion mars her features, clouds her teary eyes. what was this about?
The punch was one that he saw coming but found no reason to move away from. It landed solidly on his stomach, but after all the pain he had become accustomed to as a member of this damned organization, Mark felt like he took minimal physical damage. Emotionally, however, his little sister’s tears alone were enough to slaughter him.
How long has it been since he allowed himself to feel so much? It was uncomfortable, almost to the point of nauseating.
“I am sorry,” he repeated, tucking away the candies she clearly did not want. “I am sorry.” Because he didn’t know what else he could say right now that’ll make things better. For all of his supposed cleverness, at this moment, Mark could barely think. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, then drizzled with thick, sticky honey.
Perhaps action could speak louder than words.
He wrapped both of his arms around Jaehee’s shoulders and brought her closer, until he felt her face pressed against his uniform jacket. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, using his softest voice. “I don’t want you to be sad.” He scooped her in tightly and delivered a kiss to the top of her head. This was something that their parents used to do for them, back when they were small children - it was the ultimate gesture of comfort in Mark’s opinion. “If nothing else, at least we are together again.”
A part of him knew this wasn’t real, because it was too perfectly horrific.
The heavy rain had muddied the river, but instead of brown it was running red. As blood drained from their bodies, their souls drifted. His entire team was dead around him, crumpled and in pieces.
This is a reflection of my fear.
It was important for Umbrella soldiers to not feel, to not attach themselves unnecessarily. Mark was good at this - distancing - but he was still human enough to feel some sort of responsibility towards his squad. Especially for those that genuinely believed in him.
Her dark hair floating atop the water surface. The blood stain on her uniform jacket spreading and darkening. Dead eyes. Cold eyes. Like mirrors they only reflected.
There was a cough in the distance.
It would appear that someone was still alive.
Mark turned, slowly, his entire body felt so heavy. His eyelids drooped as he pushed himself forward, making out one step at a time.
It was Siwoo. Of course it was. He should have known out of everyone, this one would have clung the hardest to life. He had someone that he loved, after all, someone he was fighting to spend another day with. That precious little sister Miyoung. When it came to family, Mark thought they understood each other.
“Come here,” he wanted to say, but something was lodged in his throat, blocking his words. “Siwoo.” Let me look at your injuries, everything will be fine.
The other noticed him, finally, but instead of looking glad, his dorm buddy looked...fearful, and disgusted. It was difficult to decipher which emotion was more dominant. What? Mark would have asked. Do I look that bad? Can’t be much worse than you.
And that was the truth. Siwoo was half a corpse already. He was so injured that Mark wasn’t sure if he was going to make it, even if the medic was to arrive at this very moment. That leg they could regrow in time, but it looked like the monster ran its teeth through Siwoo’s entire side. Mark thought he saw bones, exposed carelessly to the air without the protection of flesh. It must hurt like hell.
One more step forward.
Why was it so difficult for him to move? It wasn’t like he felt tired - in fact, Mark had never felt so much energy in his life. Guess adrenaline must really be pumping through his veins.
Siwoo wasn’t moving, not until Mark reached out and tugged at his shoulder.
Such stillness.
Instead of a greeting, he got a scream. Piercing, agonized and nothing like he ever heard before from this stubborn kid.
Mark stumbled back, suddenly nervous. The sound of flesh ripping, bone cracking and blood dripping into the river finally made him realize something. He dipped his chin, looking down at his own hands.
Red blood. Black blood. All mixing together and running down his long, razor sharp claws.
No...no, no, no, it can’t be.
Siwoo slumped back the moment he stepped away, as if he had no energy holding him up. His eyelids fluttered and his chest still rose and fell with life, but laboriously.
“No, no, you have to get up.” Mark stepped forward and grabbed onto Siwoo neck, willing the tip of his claws to not sink into the other’s throat like they so desperately wanted to. “You have to kill me.” He tried to pat Siwoo’s face to get him to wake up the way he used to whenever the other was going to be late for training, but wherever he touched gashes appeared and more blood flowed.
This isn’t real. He wanted to scream, feeling the grip of hysteria tightening in his chest. I need to wake up, right now!
And he did.
Heart thumping, hands shaking, and covered in a layer of his own sweat.
You are awake.
But the scream that was previously lodged in his throat was still there, and now finally has the opportunity to rip itself free.
Come on, we have to breathe.
Blood lust. Murderous intent. Cut, rip, slaughter, repeat. That sick, twisted excitement. He felt that desire. He was still feeling it.
He wanted to scream some more and to stop himself from doing that he laughed instead. It was his unhealthy coping mechanism, and one that pushed him closer towards insanity every day. Or perhaps he was there already.
Just breathe.
“Glass of water, please.” He heard commotion on the other side of the room and knew he had woken up the other party. Normally he would have just put himself back to bed, but tonight, he rather felt like seeing Lee Siwoo’s unshredded face. “Sorry. What time is it?”
He knows what Minjun’s fate is at this point but still, he speaks without caring about being yelled at later. “It….has. But we can still try and save him!” He steps closer, though not too close. “Mark, no one has ever taken the time to even try to save someone from turning, but there could be a way if we just try…. We can take him back, see if they can’t….experiment on him and find some sort of cure..” Despite his tone having the slightest hint of hope laced within it, he knows this is impossible but he still allows himself to speak these words into existence.
Snap.
That was the sound of Minjun’s neck bone breaking.
What? The blood has turned black, which meant there was no point in hesitating any longer. Thinking and struggling over the decision won’t change the outcome and would only cause them all further suffering.
It had to be done.
Mark laid Minjun onto the ground gently, his previously trembling hands actually stilled now that the deed was done. I killed someone. It was someone who had turned, so he technically would be classified as a monster as per organization guide, but the kill felt like a murder. Despite having those black eyes, Minjun still looked very human, especially now that Mark shut his eyes for him. “I am sorry,” he said, patting the dirt from his pants as he stood.
“There is no cure. If we waited, Minjun would might have grown a few more eyes and a pair of wings, then put a claw through my chest.” Mark sighed. “And then you next.” He nodded at Siwoo, who was the second closest to the monster that was once upon a time their buddy. “Then all of you.” Nobody should consider themselves completely removed from the situation here.
Behind him, the once still body began twitching unnaturally.
“Guess I didn’t finish the job.” Mark spun around and tugged his gun out of its holster. “Feel free to look away.” He took a few steps back and opened fire. Over and over again until the body stopped moving for good. Blood splattered everywhere, black and reeking all over Mark’s chest. “Trust me, I am not enjoying this,” he said once he’d used up his last bullet. “This thing was our comrade, I am aware of this, but the monsters we fight every day were also people once. A lot of them children. We can’t allow ourselves to think about what they were.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I am doing this to Minjun today, and some day one of you might do it to me.” What goes around comes around, right?
but she couldn’t, for he is here, in front of her and all jane wants to do is scream. do you see the ghost? do you see him? he looks whole but he’s only here to haunt me -
go away
go away
𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘.
He hadn’t lost his shit like this since his first battle.
“Come again,” Mark whispered into his ear piece, his hands suddenly unsteady on the steering wheel. “I am going to need you to repeat yourself. Slowly. As if you are speaking to an imbecile.” Because that was how he felt in that moment - his entire brain felt like it was soaking in a tub of honey. Sticky, stuck and slow.
So the other person repeated the information, but second time receiving it didn’t necessarily mean he absorbed it better.
The first thing he experienced - once he finally accepted what he was told - was happiness. It was sweet, undiluted and his heart expanded with so much of that foreign joy that he thought he was going to faint. Mark didn’t want to see his family here at the Umbrella, but he missed them so much. He spent months trying to forget, and when that failed, he devoted years compartmentalizing...carefully tucking away his love to a place where it could not harm anyone - especially himself.
“Do I look okay?” He turned and asked one of his squad members the moment the car came to a stop. “Actually, it is fine, don’t answer that.” It didn’t matter how he looked - he wasn’t about to delay this any longer.
Raking his hand through his hair in a last ditch attempt at looking semi-decent, Mark pushed his way through the crowd. “Jaehee!” His eyes scanned for his little sister. “Jaehee!” A hint of frustration appeared in his voice when he couldn’t spot her right away. The guy said she was here, and that she was looking for him-
Wait. Was that her right there?
She got really tall! And slender. What was that in her mouth and why did she get so many piercings?
Also who made her cry?
“Hey...” Mark rushed forward, but didn’t actually know what to say next. Come on, think. Oh, right! On impulse, he had stolen his dorm mate’s gummy candies while getting out of the car. It was a half-eaten bag of little colourful bears, hardly a great offering, but he felt like he needed to present Jaehee with something. “So, I may have gotten really lost on my way to the candy store.” He laughed, humorlessly of course. “Yeah...Uh...Terrible joke. I am really sorry.”
They were supposed to return to the organization immediately after every mission, but even a square like Mark didn’t follow that rule to the t. The Umbrella wanted them to operate like lean, mean, killing machines, but even robots needed electricity to run.
“Want to get a coffee?” Time to get recharged. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” He didn’t actually wait for a response before pulling over neatly and putting the car to park. See, there were benefits to being the driver - nobody could leave without you because you were the one holding the keys. “This one okay?” He pointed to the coffee shop about half-a-block down the sidewalk. It was one of his favourites to visit in the spring because it had an outside sitting area right underneath a huge cherry blossom tree. His nostrils could use a break after smelling blood and guts all day long.
He walked on ahead, already thinking about what to get, but fate decided to take an unfortunate turn. No Mark, destiny whispered, you don’t deserve a break. Instead, let’s give you...trouble.
And trouble took the form of an angry old lady and a young couple in tears.
“Give me back our daughter!” The woman yelled, sobbing into the shoulder of her husband. “You stole her away without even letting us say goodbye...How could you?!”
The old lady came at Mark with the cane, waving it enthusiastically in the air. She was making some threats but excessive anger made her slightly out of breath and difficult to understand.
“Who is your daughter?” Mark asked with a sigh. They couldn’t have waited until after he got his coffee to jump him, huh? “This one?” He gestured at Yuri ( @umbyuri ), but already knew it was unlikely. The couple didn’t seem like they were old enough to be Yuri’s parents, unless they were very naughty in their teenage years.
“No, you monster!” The woman yelled. “The child in green sweater. And two braids. You took her last month!”
She seemed quite offended that he couldn’t recall this child. Perhaps he should explain.
“Our schedule is very tight,” he said. “Last month I recruited four girls in green with two braids. I don’t know which one your daughter is.” Mark casually dodged grandma’s cane when it came down towards his head. “Good news, though, out of the four recruited, I think only two died so far, so the chance of your daughter still being alive is a healthy 50%.”
In Umbrella, a complete victory was difficult to achieve. Today, however, Mark thought they were able to get pretty dang close.
First of all, there were no civilian casualties. When they shouted out instructions to the initially panicking crowd, the people actually piped down and did as they were told without any questions. One of the guys in a nice suit even said thank you on his way out, which was a pleasant surprise.
As for soldiers, no one died. Everyone was exhausted and injured, but after the medics team arrive, they should be patched up in the matter of minutes. If anything, the one suffering from the most injuries would be his buddy Minjun over there on the ground. The monster nicked him in the eye with a sharp claw on its way down and while the wound was fixable, it undoubtedly hurt.
“Our medic will be here any moment now,” he reassured, petting Minjun on the shoulder. “Here, have some of this tea.” Mark took off his thermo bottle and passed it over. It was peppermint tea, something he had to trade for with another fellow cadet using his last peanut butter granola bar.
"Also, good job Siwoo (@siwooumb).” He turned his eyes towards the one standing about two meters in front of them. When the monster collapsed and cut Minjun’s eye, this one was quick in putting himself in between his squad buddy and the source of danger. Very courageous - a trait that Mark admired and found valuable in a teammate, especially since Siwoo was brand new to Umbrella with only a few weeks of actual battlefield experience.
The monster was pretty much dead, but he had asked Siwoo to set it on fire a few more times, just to make sure. Afterwards, they only needed to cut the core out before calling it a day.
His hand was getting tired - Minjun had still not taken the tea.
...
Mark moved at the same time Minjun did and locked an arm around his squad mate’s neck. “Everything is okay, just kill the monster first!” These words were for the pyro boy.
How unfortunate, guess they couldn’t have a nice straight forward mission after all. The hint of gladness he felt earlier, all gone, replaced by frustration, concern and fear. “Minjun, it’s okay,” he said, pulling his straining squad mate closer, Minjun’s back against his chest. The other was struggling against him, quite violently too. “It’s Mark,” he said, a hint of nervousness in his usual calm voice. The thrashing, unfortunately, did not reduce in intensity.
The other soldiers, noticing the commotion, moved closer. Oh my god, someone whispered. Is this a turning? An actual turning?
As cadets, most of them had not witnessed turning. Mark himself had only learned it on paper as well, which was why he felt hesitation, even as he felt warm liquid running down his Minjun restraining arm. It could be from his eye wound, the gentler side of him insisted. But this much blood? Last time I checked, a cut like that wouldn’t make blood flow down like two rivers. The logical side followed, urging him to move.
Mark felt for his dagger with his free hand, fingers trembling.
“Has...has his blood turned black?” He asked the crowd. “Someone answer me.” They hesitated, and he waited. Someone has to be willing to speak...someone must share the burden of this murder with him.
hello babes, welcome to the world of mark, your friendly neighbourhood creep. before he went by the name mark, he was known as seo jaein & had a big family + lots of siblings (including little jane). he was a bit weird even as a kid - spent a lot of time reading alone in his bedroom, people watching in the park and staring at dead rats/birds on the street. he was doing well academically, so if he didn’t the organization he could have gone on to try and become one of those kooky scientists.
as a soldier, and often a squad leader, mark is very goal-driven. he will do his best to eliminate monsters and rescue civilians, and will have no trouble sacrificing people if he deems it necessarily. for example, if one person must die in order to save twenty, he will absolutely send that person out with a smile and say don’t worry, everything will work out just fine! also, if there are two people needing to be saved and he deems one person of greater value to the organization than the other, he would save the more valuable person regardless of any emotion ties.
some people are a bit wary of him because of his heartlessness decisiveness. there are a few rumours going around about him killing a lot of humans, including teammates. people speculates he actually enjoys murdering people/inflicting pain. there was also something about him being part monster already because he tasted monster blood. anyway, there’s a lot of myths out there about this guy and most of them are not true.
social interaction wise, mark is the type of guy that’ll appear quite literally out of nowhere in the hallways. when you are badmouthing him, you turn around and somehow he’s been behind you the entire time. he has a rather intense stare and his smile sometimes scares people more than it comforts them. he laughs at the wrong times and tells terrible puns. he’s experienced in battles, though, and doesn’t have many failed missions in his record. if he likes you, he will usually tell you, like, i enjoy spending time with you. insertnamehere, you are a good friend. if he doesn’t like you, he will imagine choking you to death in vivid details during his free time. it is pretty hard to get on his bad side though, so you had to have been a real shit to him.
if you would like a piece of this, hit me up! i prefer to plot on twitter. under the cut i have a few plot bunnies:
maybe you or your younger sibling got forcibly recruited by him and you hold a grudge. he started working at 15-16ish and he is 27 now. so if you joined within the past 9 years, this could be you!
you fought a monster that he’s particularly interested in and he’s been asking you to recount your experience in explicit details. you are not keen to indulge, after all, a lot of people died.
you heard some really outlandish rumour about him and wanted to know the truth.
he thinks y’all are friends, but you feel the opposite. OH, or we can do it the other way around. like he thinks y’all are enemies, but you thought we buds!
Seo Jaein considered himself to be a man of his word. While he didn’t make promises often, whenever he did, he always delivered. At least, that was his reputation thus far in life and something he was determined to maintain.
When it came to art, he had no natural born talent. Effort and attention to details, however, enabled him to produce some pieces that he was proud of. Or maybe he just really loved the girl who was always the subject of his work.
“Almost done,” he said, waving his model to come over and have a peek. “One more session should do. Do you like it?” It was a simple drawing of his little sister Jaehee on the chair, holding some fake flowers. His classmate - the one with an actual gift - could have finished the drawing in one session. Jaein, meanwhile, had divided it into four. Focusing on one section at a time, he had only Jaehee’s face left before he could declare the drawing complete. This was one of her birthday presents - the only one she knew about. The others, he had already hidden all over her bedroom so she could discover them at her own pace.
“My little sister is the cutest,” Jaein complimented. He would have said something more, except his younger brother was whining loudly of his hunger in the hallway. To be fair, he was hungry an hour ago and only stopped his grumbling when Jaein promised to make him a cheese toastie after he finished the art session.
“Alright, alright!” He sighed, scooping up the little brother on his way to the kitchen and gave him a few rocks back and forth to bring back that winning smile. “I’ll fry you an egg too, how about that?” The parents said they were going to be extra late tonight, so he could afford to indulge the tiny glutton a bit more.
Jaein didn’t like to be distracted during the cooking process, and all of his siblings knew this, so when one came and tugged on his sleeve, he was quite surprised.
“There are some people at the door.” Jaein’s older sister seemed concerned. “They said they are looking for you. I think they are from...” She bit down on her lower lip and didn’t finish the sentence.
“Me?” Jaein echoed, puzzled. He turned off the heat and went to the door, peering through the spyhole with apron still on and spatula in hand. The men and women outside were dressed neatly in rather familiar uniforms.
The Umbrella.
“May we come in?”
The answer would have been ‘no’ because his parents weren’t home, but they didn’t wait for Jaein’s response. The door unlocked itself and the knob turned as if by an invisible hand. “Seo Jaein.” The lady standing at the front addressed him directly. “Please come with us.”
Jaein fell silent. Believe it or not, he did know what was happening - twice now the Umbrella had taken kids from their street, leaving behind crying parents and terrified siblings. Sometimes the family would kick up a fuss, but the kid always left with Umbrella in the end. From the way the door unlocked on its own, Jaein could already tell his options were limited.
“My parents are not home.” He tried anyway.
“They are being informed, right now.” One of the men nodded. “Let’s go.”
He took a few steps back, and almost immediately felt a force pulling him towards the door, returning him to his original position. A hint of panic gathered in his chest then, but he managed to keep it contained.
“I will need to pack,” he said.
“Everything will be provided for you.” The woman who had spoken first smiled, but it was not a happy expression. Jaein had a feeling that she didn’t want to be doing this, and that knowledge comforted him in a way. At least one of them was soft-hearted, and Jaein must use this to his advantage.
He took a deep breath to gather his courage.
“Listen, I am not being difficult. I am not screaming or kicking.” Plenty of kids did that. “I am not going to try to run away either, alright?” He glanced back, where his siblings were watching them with large, fearful eyes. “I just need some time. Look at my room one last time, go say my goodbyes.” Sadness was heavy on his heart, and despite his best efforts, it was sinking into his voice. “I am never going to see my family again, so give me five minutes for goodness’s sake!”
The lady nodded, and Jaein whipped right around before anyone could make her take her generosity back.
He went straight up the stairs without looking at anyone first, and allowed the familiar scent of his own room to calm him. He must not have a break down. Must not start crying. The less trauma he'd leave his siblings from this experience, the better. That was the one last thing he could do for them as their brother.
Opening the photo album on his book shelf, he quickly grabbed a few of his favourites and crammed them into the back of his jeans. From underneath his bed, he pulled out the shoe box holding his special sneakers. They were expensive, so he really treasured them, to the point of only wearing them out twice a month. Last year his older sister bought him a silver paper clip bracelet, and he found and put that on too. Finally, before leaving behind his space of comfort for the past fifteen years, he threw on the jacket dad bought him and wrapped mom’s hand knitted scarf around his neck (even though it was still a bit warm for that).
When he came down, he was smiling, all traces of misery erased from his features. Everyone got their hugs, and one was reluctant to let go. Jaein glanced around the house with his face half buried in his little sister’s hair and thought of all of the promises he was going to break. The egg that was still half cooked on the pan, the dishes that were meant to be his chore tonight, the dusty television stand and...the unfinished drawing.
I am sorry, Jaehee. He wanted to say when he finally set his little sister back down on the ground.
“Why the long face?” Jaein ended up asking instead, pinching her round cheeks. “I am only going to the corner store to pick up some candies.” It was a stupid lie, and likely only worked because he had always been truthful with his family. “I’ll be right back,” he said, as he walked out of the front door.
Don’t look back.
Don’t look back.
Twenty minutes into their silent drive, he finally pulled out the photos that he had allowed himself to take. The emotions that he had carefully tucked away swelled, spilled and trembled on his lashes.
“Memories can make it harder,” the woman said, petting his shoulder.
Do heroes wear capes? Are they graceful in the air, hair lightly tousled by the breeze and shining under the warmth of the sun?
Or do they grovel. Do they pant and bleed with cracked glasses, their hands grasping at the air as they struggle for one last breath.
This is life and death, he told himself. My life, and its death.
Nothing else would be acceptable.
Pain radiated through his left leg, but negligible in comparison to the other, far more pressing issues. The monster’s grip wasn’t loosening, yet it wasn’t tightening either, this meant Mark was as close to victory as he was to death. He had done his best, and now it was up to fate.
Another wave of agony as something else exploded, this time in his torso. Mark hoped that it wasn’t something vital, for there were only so much the field medics could do, even if some of them were highly skilled.
The monster stared, its six beady eyes meeting Mark’s two.
Die. Mark silently willed the monster as he continued to drain its energy. Right here, right now. You will die for me.
The creature growled, but weaker than before. Its claws loosened just enough for Mark to suck in a painful, but much needed gulp of air. He imagined the oxygen flowing in through his nostrils and filling his depleted lungs in a trail of purifying blue. I can live, he informed himself. I have to try. He raised his knife and brought it down towards the monster’s eyes, drawing it across the row of three at the top, then turning the blade downwards for the rest.
His second swipe missed, but the first one was right on the money. Finally, the creature dropped him. It would have been a bone-breaking fall, if not for a dead teammate’s last service as cushion.
Thanks, let me borrow this. Mark pulled his leg out of the unpleasant bloody mess and helped himself to another dead squad mate’s gun. His hands were shaking, but he managed to reload the gun. He could barely aim, but thankfully his target was a large, slowly drooping mound. How many bullets did he fire? That, he wasn’t certain, but he had but two remaining by the end. The thing eventually stopped moving, and at its stillness he laughed.
Nothing about this situation was humorous, and such a devastating scene should earn no laughter, yet he couldn’t stop himself. Something was cracking inside, worse than his glasses, and somehow the hysterical noises he was making felt soothing on those frayed nerves.
Report. Static. Report.
What was that sound? Did it come from his ear piece? Oh yes, he still had that, didn’t he?
“Mission completed.” He put a hand over his mouth to contain his laughter and rolled onto his side. “Rank B monster eliminated.” Was that how he was supposed to report? His commanding officer should be doing this, except she might have been the first to die trying to save somebody else. Such a good person. “Civilian casualty...nine. I think that’s everyone. They all died, we couldn’t save a single person.” He wanted to raise his head and have a look around, but maybe that could be somebody else’s job. “Six of us died trying, though. You are talking to the last kid standing, or, uh, lying.”
What’s the point of all this? What’s the point of all this?
“If a medic doesn’t get here soon, we might have a total team wipeout.” Now that the battle was done, he was actually beginning to feel all his injuries. “Since I have you on the line, want to sing me Happy Birthday? Yeah? Awesome. To Mark please. Oh? Yeah, I am turning sixteen.”
