The echoes of gunshots vibrated throughout the forest. A cocophany of pitiful screams, bullets raining, and panicked shouting invaded the senses of every living creature of within at least a mile. Along with the stench of blood and sweat which clung to the air. Forest floors: littered with the lifeless corpses of soldiers taking their last breaths and choking on their own blood.
So much blood.
He held a body in his arms. Yes. A body, that's all it was. Since the soul had long since left the body. Just a body.
His hands were burnt. No... that's not right. Engraved. With the blood of his comrades, family, people. Humans.
So much blood. So much blood. So much-
Carter jolted awake with a a gasp. He had just awoken from accidentally dozing off in his fishing boat which was threatening to topple over, again. He sighed to himself, this was the second time this week it had happened. Memories of the past bubbling carelessly to the surface of his brain. His mind which was trying to find peace.
Carter had suffered the same dream for the past year. The same nightmare. A memory which his brain refused to forget and consistently burdened him. Although he knew he was not in that environment- at least not directly- anymore, Carter couldn't understand why he was unable to let go of the painful past. Maybe it was because deep down, he knew he was not free yet.
He sighed to himself as Carter sat up on his rowing boat, grabbing the wiry rope and wearily, dragging it bit by bit from the murky lake. It began to show over the water, revealing a large metre-long fishing net of a decaying green colour with 5 or 6 fish flapping and struggling to free themselves. Picking each of the silver-scaled fish from the net and placing them in an ice bucket, Carter decided it was time to head back in. He checked his watch.
16:42.
'Shit!' He thought to himself.
He's been sitting in the lake for about nine hours. Admittedly, he'd been asleep for most of them, but the market would be closing now and there was no point in trying to sell the fish today since rush hour was over. Deciding to try again tomorrow, he started rowing to the docks, cutting through through the lake coated with a thick blanket of fog like the bullets in his dream.
After departing the lake, Carter started wading through the dying bustle of the crowded streets. Salesmen shouted and beggars wailed on street corners, the mist was still heavy and suffocating, like a comforting blanket in disguise.
Carter eyed the guards patrolling the streets, their hand guns gripped threateningly as they glared him down, as if they were expecting him to make trouble. However, Carter didn't usually take these things to heart, he was a big guy. 6"4 with an intimidating presence and a resting face that said, 'I dare you to try something, because I can fight.' And did Carter know how to fight! He thought back gloomily to his mercenary days, but quickly stopped himself from getting lost in another memory.
The guards who patrolled around didn't just stare at him though. Carter knew all too well about the government and their desire for control, power and order. For this reason he couldn't take the stares too personally, after all it was the government's paranoia which meant that every guard in every town and city- even the tiny fishing villages- eyed every passing person with suspicion.
Paranoia fueled by fear. Fear of a rebellion. And fear of the undead. The undead who still threatened peopel's lives even outside the hellscape.
Carter had been walking for 10 minutes when he reached the outskirts of town. His hut sat miserably isolated from everyone else's. Isolated from the rest of the good ol' jolly community, Carter consdiered the lonliness both a curse and a gift. He was not bothered by people, but the silence was sometimes suffocating. He sat the bucket of fish in the storage room, full of amazing quality food such as fish, crabs and... well... fish!
Living in a a tiny fishing village surrounded by a lake separating everyone form the mainland and shrouded in mist meant that the only source of income was the market place and fishing. Not that Carter was complaining, he had needed this kind of peace and quiet. The type which put a barrier between him and his past.
Even if that barrier was only temporary.
As if that very past he wanted to keep buried wanted to come and slap him in the face, Carter heard a bang at the door.
THUMP. THUMP.
Striding towards it, Carter reluctantly welcomed his past into his life again, in the form of his old captain.
The familiar mercenary at the door stood a bit shorter than Carter, but wore a devious grin which contrasted that of Carter's usual scowl, one that oozed overconfidence. He had a nasty burn mark on the left side of his face which trailed down to his neck, and brown hair littered with some grey at the roots.
Waltzing in like he owned the place-which he technically did thanks to Carter's debt-he sat himself down on the couch and exclaimed, "Carter! My boy, how are you?"
Carter glared at him whilst leaning aganst the small kitchen table, answering, "Drop the friendly act and tell me what you want, I already gave you last months payment and you're too early for the next one."
The Captain plastered on a sarchastic expression of pain and clutched his heart like Carter had just shot him there and then, "Come now, that's not any way to welcome your guests, it's no wonder you never have any real ones," he chuckled, "How about a drink? I know you still have that stash of old whisky somewhere around here!"
"Not for you I don't"
"Tch," he scowled, "Fine, since you're so eager to die alone... I'm afraid I've broght some bad news for you Carter.
Of course he couldn't catch a break today.
"It seems that Lane didn't make the trip back last time he saw you-ran into some undead on his way back from your hut-"
"And?" Carter cut off, Lane was the mercenary who usually came to pick up his debt money that he owed to the mercenary group every month. In all honesty, Carter didn't even know the guy's name before today, nor had he ever had a proper conversation with him in their limited meetings, so he didn't feel much in hearing the news of his demise. Travelling to his town, especially alone, was a dangerous job since you had to travel through the hellscape there and back. A land teeming with the undead for miles on end, if you didn't know your stuff to survive then you wouldn't. Simple.
"Don't cut me off boy," Captain shot him a more serious look now, seemingly irritated by his defiance. Of course, Carter knew better but he was getting impatient.
"That means that he was lost along with your monthly payment. And I know it was a big one last month, 10,000 gold was it? Since we didn't recieve it, it means that you didn't pay it according to the rules, so you're gonna have to pay double this time on top of your next payment. You know how it works son."
Carter gritted his teeth. He did know how it worked, all too well, When you missed your payment to these guys-whether it was your fault ot not-you would have to pay double next time, Carter had been careful as to not miss any for the past year. He had been so close to paying off his debt: only two more months and he would've been free to go anywhere he wanted wihtout the weight of his debt on his shoulders.
Now he had to pay 20,000 gold on top of his next two payments. It would end up being 40,000 gold! Not to mention he hadn't been able to sell anything at the market today! How was he going to manage that next month after using most of his savings on the last payment. A hardworked payment which went to waste.
Carter felt his anger boiling to the surface as he gripped the side of the table.
Noticing this, Captain said, "You know I can't do anything about it son! Just hope you don't loose it next time-"
"I didn't loose it," he snapped back.
Captain scoffed, "Sure. But you know what happens the next time you miss a payment."
Carter knew all too well, again. He'd heard of one two many lifeless bodies ditched in the middle of nowhere, left somewhere in the hellscape as dinner for the undead. Disappeared. Murdered without question. Nobody missed a payment twice. After Captain had left, Carter gripped a glass on the side of the table and threw it aginst the wall, shattering as if that would solve his problems.
He'd have to find some money, and fast.
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