Story Of A Solider

[LowTiger]

To all who will read this, if you do not like violence of any kind, please, do not read. The story is entirely ficitonal, but the places are real. Places that I grew up and have been to. I started this story because I thought that it would be cool to see it turned into a graphic novel (comic). Be forewarned, everything is copyright. If you would like to post it elsewhere, or use any part, please notify me and I will be more than happy to give my consent. This will be in installments. I have roughly a week before I will be gone from the ZT world for a while, but I will have as many stories up here if they are liked. No, the character does not have a name, but that will be answered later. Please do not be afraid to post any comments or suggestions. A true writer appreciates comments. If this causes too many problems, please mods, remove it. Any way, here is part one.

Chapter 1: Part 1
Story of a Solider

My story is one of anguish and shame. Those who only know of my story see it as disgusting and vile, not for what was done to me, but for what I did back to them; what I took back. But for those that knew my story and me, saw it as disgusting and vile, but for what was done to me. I’ll go back to the beginning, back to where everything was promising and hopeful.
When I was eighteen, I joined the army to provide for a future for myself and my fiancée. I went in as a private first class and in the field of military intelligence communications. We had been together for over a year when I left for basic, and we couldn’t have been in love more than ever. We knew that this would be the ultimate test of our fidelity and strength, and I am happy to say that we both passed and married two years later. The wedding was one that you would think about in your dreams. It wasn’t too big, family, a few friends and all around good fun. The wedding was in a small church in Jefferson, Ga. called Academy Baptist. It was where I had gone to church growing up. On a good Sunday, the church had about a total of ten to twelve people there. It was a beautiful summer day with flowers strung all across the yard in front of the church, as though nature itself was celebrating our marriage and couldn’t help but to add its touch. I still have the pictures from that day, faded and worn, but no less beautiful than the day that it was taken. After the wedding, we set off for our new life, and then I was offered what I thought would be the opportunity of a life time.
My wife and I had been married for six years, six wonderful, blessed years. We had 4 children who were nothing but great balls of energy trapped inside a skin cover. Handling two boys and two girls took up most of our time. Logan, who was five, was probably the funniest person that you would ever meet. Mischievous, though he was, nobody who met him could help but love him. Haley was also five and a bouncing ball of beauty and joy. She wanted to be just like the people who flew in planes, she called them, “sterdess” of course we knew that she meant “stewardess”. Harvey was three and nothing could stop him, not even the child-proof safety locks. I still have no idea how he ever got passed those. He had heard of Houdini, where I have no idea, but when he was dressed up, this is what he wanted to be referred to. Then there was Jessica, barely over a year old, never cried, never caused any problems that any of the others did when they were her age. She always had this intelligent air about her and a look that let us know that when we talked to her, she knew what we were saying, though she couldn’t reply herself. My wife and I were the envy of the town. Everyone wanted kids like ours. I never knew what was about to happen would rock the little town and change my world.
I had been offered the chance of a life time. The government had asked me to be a part of a new enhancement program. They said that they needed someone from my field for this. Of course I agreed and of course I failed to read the fine print that nearly cost me my soul. Little did I know that when I signed up, I was going to be the test subject, or rather one of many. This was to be my part, to be some guinea pig for an experiment. I didn’t know it then of course. The other “recruits” and I were given anything that we wanted, except visitors. So, I requested to have a web cam put in the house for me to see and talk to my family.
After about three weeks of rigorous and physically demanding tests, I was betrayed. I had fallen asleep in the middle of a book that I was reading, I don’t remember the name now, but that doesn’t matter. My door flew open and there was my commanding officer standing in the doorway. He didn’t even seem to see me, didn’t even speak to me. He just made a silent movement with his hand, and I was out. Over what seemed like eternity, during periods of wakefulness and momentary freedom that I thought that I was dead, and wished for it too, experiments were being performed on me to make me what the military and the government always wanted, a perfect killing machine. I didn’t know what was being done to me then, but I know now. I was made faster, stronger, smarter. Kind of like the six million dollar man, only I cost more. My reflexes were faster, my thinking process out paced the worlds fastest computer, my senses were sharpened. I could hear the water drop from a leaky faucet five floors above me when I concentrated when I had a moments rest. I could see better, could gauge distances with an accuracy that was unmatched. I could smell and remember scents; this allowed me to know who was coming and how fast. My sense of touch was so keen, that I could tell you how old the dust was. And my sense of taste was heightened to such a degree that I could taste the slightest impure substance in crystal clear water, and tell you what it was. Now my mind was the real kicker. Not only did I know things that I didn’t use to know, I could think faster than any thing on the planet. Everything was in slow motion. In the time it took some one to throw a punch at me, I could gauge height, weight, distance, speed, time, force, and rotational swing, and counter it effectively. My strength was unmatched; there are no words real enough to describe the degree to which my strength was enhanced. I was the fastest person on earth. A mile was no problem, which was something anyway because I was not in the best cardiovascular shape. Three minutes and twenty-five seconds was the time, shattering the world record.
I would have felt elated at such changes, except for not have spoken to my wife and kids in months. I tried to contact them, but the connection seemed to have been disconnected. I inquired as to why and the reply was that there were some technical difficulties, which were still not fixed three months later. I asked if the project was over and if I could go see my family. “Yes” and “No” were the answers that I received. Thus, I decided to sneak out and go see them, only I was caught by the guard who was doing his rounds that night. I had always gotten along well with him, but he seemed to know of my intentions, so when I asked him to step aside, my answer came in the form of a blow to the head, needless to say that I was not the one unconscious for over an hour. I later found out from him that they were told that I had died in an accident in the lab and that nothing was recoverable, thus the casket was empty. Ironic, huh? In my mind, that settled it. I was going to go see them and take them away from here. Apparently, someone else also knew of my intentions and already saw to it that they would not be fulfilled in any way.
When I got to the house, there was nothing left but charred bricks and ashes everywhere. Yet, there were not any police, firemen, or medics anywhere. As I walked over the fallen timbers of my house, what remained of my life left me. There, no more than ten feet in front of me, laid out in a row, were five bodies, one large and four small. My breath left me and the same ash that covered the charred bones of my family was in my mouth. Every single one had one hole in the back of the head that I recognized as a bullet hole from an M-16 A2 automatic rifle, so I knew that this was military personnel. I also knew from the bodies that it was arson, and it was done with certain chemicals that left nothing but bones for anyone to identify them with. I wondered who would do something like this, something this terrible? Then the answer came to me, the very people who had done this to my family, had made me what I was. I would have my revenge, I would make those who took everything from me pay with their own lives. Now, I will live to make those who cause the innocent to suffer to pay.

[Kielo91]

That's incredibly good, LT! I applaud for you to continue! Please do so! You have wonderful story skills in you, and you sure are using them to your fullest. Please continue your story!

[yellowrose]

WOW LT you are quite the story teller hun that was awesome. It held my total attention even above a bar brawl in the street under my livingroom window I just could not stop reading and now crave the rest of the story this is going to be a good one.

[LowTiger]

Okay guys, here is the second part. I've decided to go with the title of the entire story "Story of a Solider". Also, there will be two parts to every chapter. While I'm gone, I'll send stories whenever I can to my fiancee and get here to put them up. Sorry this next one isn't quite as good or "sit on the edge of your seat", but I felt that some time and a recoup period was needed for both my character and for those who have read it. Also, thank you to those that posted, it acctually inspired me. I was at a kind of impass for a couple of days after I wrote the first one. Thanks again. Well, without further ado, here is the second part of chapter one of "Story of a Solider".

Story of a Solider
Chapter 1: Part 2

How can you make the pain go away? How do you sleep at night, knowing that out there, the killer still lurks. Maybe the better word would be killers. How can you walk out your door everyday, thinking that the same might happen to you? I’ll tell you how, with vengeance.
After the discovery of the remains of my family, I don’t really remember much. What ever was in my stomach that night ended up on the asphalt along with all of the other trash. I knew that I had to get as far away from there as possible; I didn’t know where to, but I had to get away. I headed for the south gate because it would take me to the nearest town, but that was not what bothered me. It was finding a way past the guards that were, as I knew that they would be with the recent events, stationed there. Some diversion, some plan, something! I couldn’t think of anything, and then far away in the distance, the sound of sirens reached my ears. “Why? Why come now” I thought. This didn’t make sense. Obviously, the fire had been started not to long before I got there, but there should have been police, fire trucks, ambulances crawling all over the place. The answer came to me in a moment of clarity. Of course! It was because I had escaped. Could let a walking, talking, 3 billion dollar killing machine go for a midnight stroll, now could they.
That settled it in my mind. I used probably the oldest, but most effective technique for diversions, misdirection. I took the largest rock that I could find and chucked it over the fence as far as I could. Both of the guards, stupidly, went to investigate. I only prayed that there would not be more than just those two guards. I kept my ears open for any sound of their return because I would have sorely hated for there to be any confrontation between us. Luckily, they decided to take the chance and take a cigarette brake. Also, those were the only two guards stationed there (I later found out that they did not guess that I would go that way, so it was less guarded). The nearest town was roughly ten miles away, and it being the middle of the night, there was no one about. Once or twice I had to duck for cover because of a coming or going military or civilian vehicle.
I got into town about three a clock in the morning, which was good seeing as how I was covered from head to foot in ash, dirt, and mud. My appearance would not have been greatly welcomed if it had been the middle of the day. I took a quick bath in the nearest stream and tried to look as clean as possible. Though I had no shelter, food, or fire, I was neither cold nor hungry, just tired. I laid down and in minutes was asleep. I was awoken later in the day, not by the sun or bugs, but by a curious German Shepard that was sniffing eagerly about me. I had not realized it at night, but I had fallen asleep in the middle of a small park. It must have been a Saturday or a Sunday because there were a lot of people about. All who saw me hailed me or greeted me. Apparently, no news of what had happened last night had been made public. Though it should have been and would have been to their advantage because I surely would have been caught. But either by chance or by luck (or maybe sheer stupidity) it was not.
One family in particular was exceedingly polite to me and offered me food and drink with them. Being overwhelmingly famished, I did not refuse. The family was a lively group (much like my family was) and gladly accepted me into the group. Being pressed for information, I decided to give a little of myself, not the whole truth, but enough. I told them of how my family was gunned down in a drive by, for what reason I could not tell them, and a stray bullet hit the propane tank and part of the house exploded while the other part was engulfed in flames. I told them that I had no enemies or ever had any problems of any sort and that I was on my way to Tampa. Feeling as though it was there part to keep me safe, healthy, and happy (and of course well fed) they took me in for a week and gave me clothes, food, bathes, and all the hospitality a man could ever want. As a final part of their self appointed duty, they saw me safely to the airport and after many hugs and well wishes, I was off. I knew that the best plan was to start away from where I wanted to go, Washington, DC. There I would find my retribution, because there was the man who had ordered to have my family executed and burned. I would start in Tampa and travel north, gathering supplies as I went. I had friends that were more or less in the business of illegal weapons. I had caught one of them trying to pick my pocket while I was on vacation down there, and found a gun that I thought were only military issue. I asked the kid where he got them, at first he didn’t say anything, but he found out how persuasive that I can be.
These kids were getting these weapons from some Cuban dealers. Who the boss was they would never say, but seeing the neighborhood that they grew up in and the types of kids that were out on the streets, I decided to let them be. I did this only because I came to know the kids very well, and they weren’t bad kids, not even misdirected, misunderstood, or resentful, just trying to make it in the world. The parents did not care, so they decided to care for each other the best that they could. I made them promise me that they would never use these weapons for burglary or murder, but only for self-defense, and then only in the most extreme cases. That had been several years ago and now most of them were all grown up. These were the same kids that I went and visited again, but I will not give their names, I don’t want them to be arrested. I was also glad to see that they had kept their promise, and looked very good, considering the circumstances. I told them what had happened because they knew my family, indeed, while we were their, they all had dinner with us every night. I wondered too see them so angry, they wanted revenge almost as much as I, but I forbade them. They were too young to go getting themselves mixed up in my affairs and possibly getting themselves killed. I told them that all I wanted was some supplies and transportation. I also told them that I would pay well for everything. And everything I did get.
Everything from grenades (smoke and flash, and of course my favorite, exploding) to colts, sawed off shotguns, glocks, and desert eagles were laid out in front of me, and all the ammo a man could want. The group had also expanded their endeavor to high tech merchandise. Night vision, infrared, code crackers, listening devices, computer screens, and a high tech van that everything could be put in, and it looked like a plumber’s van ( how they came by it, I never asked, and they never told). I got everything for a discount apparently, seeing as how they kept saying that this stuff is real expensive every time they presented something. But I knew why they were doing it; it was because of the kindness that I had showed them so many years ago. Such things are not often forgotten, even if you haven’t seen the person in a while. Unfortunately, someone had managed to keep tabs on my movements and attacked us. We had the advantage of the weaponry on our side, but it seemed that these were task force members, trained to kill. But so was I.

[yellowrose]

I so enjoyed part 2 and glad chapter 2 part 1 is on it's way

Good job LT...paitently waiting....NOT hurry up

[LowTiger]

Here is Chapter 2, Part 1 of "Story of a Solider"


Story of a Solider
Chapter 2: Part 1

Can you imagine countless bullets flying within inches of your head? Those same bullets taking the lives of ones so young? People who you cared for, watching them die with the look on their faces “Why?” I have. Have you felt the rage of being twice bereft? The anger that comes like a storm that has been brewing beneath the surface then explodes into a tsunami? The calm before the inevitable storm? I have. To see such loss of life for some it’s disheartening, for others, enraging. For me, no words could describe what I felt to see young men and women die for no reason, except that they were there. Countless people have died in war, but that was for a cause worth dying for, whether later the family of those who died thought that it was ridiculous or not. But those people were honored just the same. What will these young men and women get? The so called future. Nothing but an indecent death, and no mourning. Their parents don’t even care; if indeed they are still alive. But I care, and I made such honor of their deaths as I could.
There was no measurement to how fast or how hard I hit them. I was a storm that had not let out, and now raged. I had not cried, but now I did. And it seemed that the heavens raged and wept with me. The sky turned blacker than night, the sky shook the ground. And the waves crashed around me. The battle was long and hard. I would not even call it a battle, for battles were full of honor and valor, these men hid and ran with fright, for they knew what came after them and did not wish to meet it. Such was my wrath that everything was destroyed. Luckily I kept enough of my head to spare what I needed. But everything and everyone else was destroyed. And still the waves crashed.
Can you imagine what I felt like after such devastation? After all of that death? Neither can I. I still cannot accurately describe how I felt. The best that I can was Anger, Anguish, Pain, Sorrow, and Release. I decided to give my friends as decent a burial as possible and left a note to who ever would find it describing what happened (I later found out that not all of them were there that night as I thought that they were. I went back at a later date and time and found them. Those who remained were okay). After their burial, I made northward as quickly as possible. I stopped in Macon, Ga. for gas. Some family members had lived here at one time and I went to see if they were still there. I found out that they had died some years before (being very old themselves). But they knew me, friends of the family they were, and took me in for the night. I knew that this was dangerous, but needed all of the comfort that I could get. They did not ask any questions, but I knew that they were worried. So, I told them that my family and some close friends of mine had died with in the past few days. They took the news worse than what I had thought. I didn’t tell them why, but told them that I was on my way to Washington, D.C. to settle it and that they had better get out of town as soon as possible, tonight if they could and not to speak to no one. I told them that it would be okay and that I had to leave as well. They wished me luck and started packing and I set out once again.
I continued to drive north and I bypassed my father’s house in Athens, I did not want to lose him as well. I got onto I-85 north through Atlanta, and went through. I had had very little sleep, and I was close to falling asleep at the wheel when I realized something. Something that had been bothering me all night. How had they found me? How did they know exactly where to go and get there so quickly? I was almost to the Tennessee state line, when I turned around and headed back toward Atlanta. I feared that some sort of beacon or tracking device was implanted somewhere in my body. I went to St. Mary’s and asked for a CAT scan and MRI quickly. The woman at the front desk said that it could not be arranged so quickly and to come back tomorrow. I could not wait until tomorrow. I pulled out my military ID and made her get some doctors on it right away. Within the hour I was sitting in the chair being strapped down and told to not move. I knew that they had a developing room there in the building. The longer that I sat there, the more pronounced that a feeling that something terrible was going to happen. Finally, the X-rays were done and I had another long and agonizing wait. Somewhere around two in the morning a group of doctors came out and said that there was something metal lodged in my brain, and they felt that they could take it out safely. This only confirmed my fears, but if they could get it out, then I would risk a longer delay. They sent me to a changing room and told me to wait. Shortly after getting into the hospital gown, a nurse came in and told me to lie down. The doctors came in and told me that it would be a three hour operation and that they would not knock me out until we got to the OR. Out of the room and into the elevator we went and after what seemed like an eternity, a mask was but on me and I was told to breathe deeply. I could feel the effects of the drugs working and as I slipped off, the building around was exploded with bangs, shaking, and fire.

[yellowrose]

This is good hun and getting better ....Keep writing ...you can break for just a little sleep though

[LowTiger]

Awww...... I feel loved , Thanks Yellowrose, I think that I will. This will give the readers enough for now. Can't pull to far ahead now can I?

[Kielo91]

Wow, I love it so far! You have real talent. I'm usually not hard worker on my stories because I tend to wonder away from them. Glad to see you're dedicated to this one! Keep up the fantastic work!

[LowTiger]

hey i have some new stories to add. i'll get them up here soon. stay tuned!

[LowTiger]

Okay everybody, here we go.


Story of a Solider
Intermission

What does a person see when they die? Do they see their life flash in front of their eyes? Or do they see the white light at the end of the tunnel? Or maybe they see nothing but darkness. What do you think? Where do people really go when they die? Is it to heaven or hell? Or is it to a place that is neither? Or perhaps they stay behind and look after those that need to be looked after. Do you know? I don’t, not yet.
As the walls shook and fell around us and fire singed our faces, I was dimly aware of what was going on. Everything sounded and felt so far away, like at the far end of a dark tunnel, and you can just see the light at the other end, beckoning. I was quite put out, I thought that the light at the end was heaven; I thought that I was going to see my wife and kids again. So, I went towards the light with peace.

Intermission

[yellowrose]

Glad to see you back writing LT . The Intro sounds good

[LowTiger]

Thanks, i'm going to try to get up a new chapter this week.