It was almost thirty years ago, during a terror crisis caused by Dark Seraphim, a notorious terrorist organization known for attacking and bombing innocent civilians, towns and cities – simply for pleasure.

At the time, I was Johan Reinhart, commander of the special forces.

The army struggled to locate the enemy’s hidden launch sites. Our mission was simple — infiltrate behind enemy lines and neutralize the threat. We called it Operation Ghost.

Stealth was the key.

One mistake could cost millions of lives.

My men and I survived for weeks inside that cursed forest, moving with precise, calculated discipline. One by one, we began neutralizing the launch sites.

After several days, we finally completed the operation, stopping the looming terror attack.

Later that night, we made camp near a spring.

We were exhausted and finally had a chance to rest our heads — but first, we needed to celebrate.

We laughed. We drank.

My right-hand man and also my best friend, Rudolf, vice-captain of the special forces, sat quietly at the edge of the campfire, sharpening his knife.

“That blade never seems to go dull,” I commented.

Rudolf smirked. “Because in this business, there’s never a dull moment.”

The camp erupted in laughter. Soon, the conversation drifted into deeper questions about life.

Rudolf lifted his blade, its edge gleaming under the moonlight.

“Johan… people like us don’t really get to have dreams. But if you had the chance… what would you do after all this?”

I stared up at the moon.
“I’d probably become some kind of history teacher…”

Before I could finish, Rudolf burst into laughter.

“You serious? You wouldn’t even be able to teach a kid how to tie his shoelaces!”

I glared at him, trying to look offended — but soon joined in the laughter.

“No, seriously,” I said. “I want to learn more about the world… and spend time with my daughter Selene. She probably hates me by now. I barely get to see her.”

Rudolf moved closer and handed me the bottle.

“She’s a difficult one… but she really loves and cares for you. “

“Yeah… I still hope so…”

I passed the bottle back. “Enough about me. Any dreams of your own?”

Rudolf took a slow drink.

“My dream… I just want to spend as much time with the love of my life Sophia.”

He paused, a small smile forming.

“I’ve got some good news, Johan. Sophia… she’s expecting.”

I slapped him lightly on the back of the head.
“You’re telling me this now?”

“Yeah… sorry. With everything going on, I kind of forgot.”

I placed my hand firmly on his shoulder.

“Congratulations, my friend. I’m truly happy for you.”

Our conversation didn’t last long.

The night shattered with screams.

One of the men pointed toward the stream. Bodies drifted slowly with the current — pale shapes turning in the water.

The remaining members of Dark Seraphim.

A cold wind rolled through the camp, carrying the stench of rot. The forest fell unnaturally silent, as if even the insects were afraid to breathe.

Rudolf froze.

“…Something’s wrong.”

He drew his weapon.
“Steady!”

The first corpse twitched.

Then another.

Bones cracked as lifeless bodies forced themselves upright, joints bending the wrong way. Water poured from their mouths as they staggered forward.

More figures emerged between the trees.

Not walking.

Dragging.

Watching.

Albert didn’t even have time to scream before they surrounded him. He disappeared beneath grasping hands, torn apart limb by limb while we fought desperately to reach him.

We pushed back the dead, barely holding formation.

But the feeling wouldn’t leave me.

We weren’t fighting the enemy.

We were being observed.

A slow clap echoed through the forest.

…Clap.
…Clap.

A child stepped into the moonlight.

He looked no older than ten.

Barefoot. Pale. Smiling.

His eyes gleamed like fire red rubies.

“Aww… humanity’s finest soldiers,” he said softly, tilting his head.

His voice was gentle — almost curious — which made it worse.

Before anyone could react, he vanished.

A gust of air passed beside me.

A soldier’s head sliced of clean.

His body collapsed a second later.

The child reappeared, wiping blood from his cheek as if mildly annoyed.

“Oh… fragile.”

Panic spread through the camp.

One by one, my men fell. Not in battle — but like toys being discarded.

Soon, only Rudolf and I remained.

The child studied us carefully, eyes shining with fascination.

“You two are different,” he giggled. “You don’t break easily like my other toys.”

From beneath his cloak, he produced a silver amulet shaped like a skull. Its hollow eyes glowed faintly.

The air grew heavy.

Our fallen comrades began to move.

Fingers twitched.

Bones snapped back into place.

They rose.

Not as soldiers.

Not as men.

But as puppets.

Their empty eyes locked onto us.

Rudolf’s voice trembled despite himself.
“Johan… tell me you’re seeing this.”

“I am.”

We stood back-to-back as our comrades advanced.

Every strike felt like betrayal.

Every blow carried grief.

The child clapped happily.

“Wonderful! Fighting friends… fighting memories… humans are so entertaining.”

In an instant he appeared before me, face inches from mine.

Up close, his smile never reached his eyes.

“Commander,” he whispered, “you’ll do nicely.”

Something moved—

Rudolf slammed into me, shoving me aside.

The child’s hand — sharp as a blade — pierced straight through his chest.

Time stopped.

Rudolf gasped, eyes wide, breath leaving him in shaking bursts.

“RUDOLF!”

I caught him as he fell.

Blood soaked through my hands.

The child watched silently, fascinated.

Rudolf gripped my uniform weakly.

“Johan… listen…”

“No — stay with me. You’ll be fine.”

He smiled faintly, already fading.

“You were always… terrible at lying.”

A weak laugh escaped him, turning into a cough.

“Without you… we would’ve died long ago… You gave us something to believe in.”

His eyes softened.

“Tell Sophia… I was brave.”

His hand trembled.

“…Tell my child… their father wasn’t afraid.”

His grip loosened.

“…Live, Johan.”

The light left his eyes.

Silence swallowed the forest.

Something inside me shattered.

The child tilted his head, observing my grief like a scientist studying an experiment.

“Oh… that expression,” he murmured. “Humans shine brightest when they break.”

Rage consumed me.

I roared and struck, my blade cutting across the child’s chest — the first genuine surprise crossing his face.

Slowly my eyes were adjusting to his speed. We fought like beasts.

“You little pest…”. The child groaned.

He hesitated for a slight moment; I took the opportunity and threw Rudlof’s knife striking him directly in the chest.

The child let out a dreadful scream of agony and pain, his eyes gleaming with rage.

“I will not forget this… Johan!” Coughing out blood.

The forest erupted into chaos.

Using the confusion and darkness, I escaped.

Behind me, the child’s laughter echoed through the trees.

The world later called me a hero.

Soon after…

I left the army.