WHAT WAS KNOWN


13.10.16



It was a cold, dry morning on January 1, 2016. A slight gust of wind was cooling on my face, triggering an onsett of sniffles in my runny nose. City lights, smoky in the night sky, flitterred about the dense smog. A tolling of 8 church bells rang, signaling that the witching hour had begun. I took a quick puff of my cigarette. Simple nights like these I were most fond of. The province I was sitting in was rapidly turning into a ghost town, rapidly expanding into nothingness. I joyfully dangled my feet off the ledge of the high-rise. In the distance the faint shimmer of gunshot echos rang throughout, with helicopter rotors spinning and cries for help sounding that never came. The skyline was far and distant, but the scent of fresh blood was carried far by the wind. Though I travelled nomadically with my peers, something about the location seemed very keen to my senses. "I've been here before" I thought, but any attempts to remember what happened just beyond a few years yielded no success. My origin has always been fascinating to me. I couldn't remember how I met these people, or who I even was or what kind of life I lived prior to Christmas Day 2014. My comrades and I all have the same conflict as to remembering before this date, though we seldomly ever mention it. It seems as though we have all subconsiously accepted our roles after this date, though I'm sure all of us frequently question why or how this spontaneous amnesia had happened. I've only known these peoples since that day, but their faces spark a familiar yet blurry memory inside my head. One of wisdom and sweet, sweet blissful ignorance.

From behind me a tin bell sounded, and a hoarsh voice interrupted my nightime dreaminess. "Bob? We need to leave. Our lookouts spotted another group of reds marching toward our eastern flank". I looked over my shoulder to see my comrade Ace in dark, camoflauged hunting gear and sporting a Kalishnikov rifle, dark red spots dripping off the rear. For two weeks now we were able to avoid the oncoming onslaught of the KGB, a neverending war in a city that has seen enough violence. We fought for the Famiglia Di Fiamma, a movement that extended far beyond where we were. According to books scavenged during our time on Russian soil, the war had existed before December 2014 in Russia, but as recent as last year had the reds invaded our homeland, though in this world you're not sure if you can trust what's written down anymore. In Russia we were bond together by the wit of Tsukuyomi, and now at home we were bond together by the everlasting flame. "What's the ETA of them reaching us?" I asked, dreary. "ETA is ten minutes. It'd be wise to go now. They... They got Antone". With a last puff, I flicked my cigarette into darkness below. Antone, one of our best fighters, succumbing to the ruthlessness of the reds. I bit my lip. "What's his status?" I asked. "He's in critical condition. Those fuckers, they unloaded magazines into that poor bastard. I have Borndon and Jacobi already tending to him. We're unsure what to do now, but the best game plan we have now is moving southeast towards a mountain region. There's an old abandoned school there, and apparently it hasn't been ransacked yet", Ace said. "Go get our van and pull it out front. I'll meet you down there. Be ready to transport Antone into the back. There's bound to be reds outside, so I'll take the left side of the street and you take the right. Go now, I'll see you then" I said. Ace nodded, and let out a fearless sigh. "Oh, and one more thing, you're gonna need this thing more than I do now". He sat his gun down on the floor and slid it to me. I broke a wide smile. "Godspeed Ace, godspeed".

From the ground I hid in position, waiting on the Ace's readiness. KGB scouts were seen up the street rummaging through garbage in hopes of finding any trace of us there. The malice painted on their faces glew like glowsticks in the mist of night. They wanted any trace of Tsukuyomi and Fiamma gone from this Earth and would stop at nothing to accomplish their goal. Their bravery, their soulfulness, their determination to keep going-it made even the most angered within our family respect them. As the reds drew closer, Ace brandished a large dagger and firmly held it in his hands. I armed myself with a supressor and mounted it to the Kalishnikov that Ace had given me. To pull this off correctly would have to be most important. We would have to be swift, quick, and silent. To alert the massive army of the oncoming reds to our prescense would be an endgame for us. Across the street Antone was struggling to keep silent through his pain, and Borndon and Jacobi were hurrying to treat him. A knock a building across the street I heard, and I quickly pointed the rifle at it in a nervous panic, but it was merely Ace trying to get my attention. Trying to contain his laughter, he motioned hand signals at me to begin the countdown. I nodded, and ducked under a barrier. "5...4...3...2..." The group of three reds were drawing extremely close now. "1!". Ace quickly sprang out from the side of the building, stabbing the dagger into the scout's neck. Before the two other guards had time to react to the headless body that used to be their comrade, I jumped up from behind the barrier, firing multiple shots into the soldier's bodies. Their faces flushed, and blood started to pour out of their every orfice. To the ground they fell, barely clinging on to life through their last dying breaths. I signaled for Ace to run foward to grab our van. He took off without hesitance and ran as fast as he possibly could. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that this charade was over.

But then...

"Thump, thump, thump."

A curious sound appeared in the distance, growing ever so more loud as time passed.

"Thump, thump, thump."

The sound seemed to be coming towards all directions. I looked everywhere, but could not weed out the source.

"Thump, THUMP, THUMP!!"

I turned around.

An absolutely humongous horde of reds were approaching from the south. Hundreds, thousands even. They were coming off mountains, from rivers, from forests, from anywhere and everywhere. My feeble brain took a moment to process what was happening, but my eyes soon grew as wide as the night sky. "REEEDS!!!" I yelled as loud as I could as to alert Ace. I ran over to Antone, Jacobi, and Borndon to fend off the en masse approaching. I knelt down and started firing at random. Magazine through magazine, bullet by bullet, it still wasn't enough to even dent the oncoming reds. I started to panic. In the corner of my eye, I noticed a familiar face coming off the mountain. One of our lookouts, Con-dog, had narrowly escaped a KGB raid on their base. "CON-DOG!!!" I yelled, "WE NEED SOME ASSISTANCE OVER HERE!". Con-dog noticed my yell, looked at me funny for a second or two, and then proceeded over to our location. As he approached, though, I noticed on his back he was carrying a large duffel bag of sorts. When he reached us, I was still trying to reduce the reds' numbers with my Kalishnikov. They just didn't care. They gleefully marched on with smug expressions on their faces. I couldn't believe it. It was all over now. This was the end. When I stopped to reload, Con-dog walked over and grabbed the rifle out of my hands. "Hey!' I shouted, "What are you doing?! I need that!". His face flashed a look, if only for a second, that was as strong as if to say "You idiot. DO YOU THINK YOU CAN STOP AN ENTIRE ARMY USING THAT? Pitiful. Let me show you how to REALLY kill some commie scum". My disgruntled expression then turned into one of bewilderment as Con-dog pulled the contents of the bag out. "HOLY FUCK!" I yelled. In his hands was a full blown RPG-7, complete with several rockets. "Ahaha, that was cute. Now let me show you how its really done." he said, walking outside the safe spot. "CON-DOG!! NO!!!". The reds all lifted their guns in perfect unison and smiled. Con-dog didn't smile, though. Con-dog smirked.

An absolutely humongous horde of reds were approaching from the south. Hundreds, thousands even. They were coming off mountains, from rivers, from forests, from anywhere and everywhere. My feeble brain took a moment to process what was happening, but my eyes soon grew as wide as the night sky. "REEEDS!!!" I yelled as loud as I could as to alert Ace. I ran over to Antone, Jacobi, and Borndon to fend off the en masse approaching. I knelt down and started firing at random. Magazine through magazine, bullet by bullet, it still wasn't enough to even dent the oncoming reds. I started to panic. In the corner of my eye, I noticed a familiar face coming off the mountain. One of our lookouts, Con-dog, had narrowly escaped a KGB raid on their base. "CON-DOG!!!" I yelled, "WE NEED SOME ASSISTANCE OVER HERE!". Con-dog noticed my yell, looked at me funny for a second or two, and then proceeded over to our location. As he approached, though, I noticed on his back he was carrying a large duffel bag of sorts. When he reached us, I was still trying to reduce the reds' numbers with my Kalishnikov. They just didn't care. They gleefully marched on with smug expressions on their faces. I couldn't believe it. It was all over now. This was the end. When I stopped to reload, Con-dog walked over and grabbed the rifle out of my hands. "Hey!' I shouted, "What are you doing?! I need that!". His face flashed a look, if only for a second, that was as strong as if to say "You idiot. DO YOU THINK YOU CAN STOP AN ENTIRE ARMY USING THAT? Pitiful. Let me show you how to REALLY kill some commie scum". My disgruntled expression then turned into one of bewilderment as Con-dog pulled the contents of the bag out. "HOLY FUCK!" I yelled. In his hands was a full blown RPG-7, complete with several rockets. "Ahaha, that was cute. Now let me show you how its really done." he said, walking outside the safe spot. "CON-DOG!! NO!!!". The reds all lifted their guns in perfect unison and smiled. Con-dog didn't smile, though. Con-dog smirked.

"BANG! CRASH!". A huge, almost blinding explosion erupted upon the southward front. A litter of blood and entrails showered from the sky. The disembodied heads of hundreds of reds shot in all directions like soccer balls. The walls of nearby buildings were given a nice shade of iron. The ensamble of reds all started to run for their lives. "HAHAHAHA! NICE TRY, BUT SSSSSSSSSWISH!". A second rocket exploded. "JESUS H. CHRIST WAS THAT NECESSARY?" I shouted. Blood started to flood the streets. Everything in view was just a mixed color stew of blood and human remains. Reds started tripping over each other in an attempt to escape. "OH, WHERE ARE YOU ALL GOING? THE FUN HAS JUST STARTED" Con-dog yelled at the bloodbath in front of him. "AH, I'M JUST KIDDING, YOU GUYS CAN GO NOW". Phew. "Listen Con-Dog," I was saying as I was walking over towards him, "you don't have to us-". "PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSST BOOOM!!!". "HAHA! OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT SUCKERS! TAKE SOME OF THAT!".

I stopped for a second.

The disgusting aroma of bodily fluids left me stuck in a catotonic haze. Though a bit dazy, I relaxed my body. Time slowed to a crawl on the outside and I didn't care one bit. Nothing was a shock to me anymore. Everyone I know and love could be dead and it still wouldn't phase me. I've seen enough war for this lifetime. When you have spent the entirety of your life fighting, it eventually starts to feel as if you were born to die. There was no other goal than to serve the everlasting flame, and I prided myself on just that. Every face was just another body to keep the fire going.

"Uh, Bob, you're gonna want to- Bob! Snap `out of it. There's more re- BOB! WAKE UP! SNAP OUT OF IT!! THERE'S MORE REDS COMING!







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