A collection of short stories

Sticks and Stone Broke My Bones

10/8/1916

I was promised to be home by Christmas. But here I am lying blind, in the trenches of Verdun. Wave after wave we come and come for the slim hope of victory but to no avail. May the gods above save my brother's soul. I lay here in the filth and flies of the trenches marching side by side. I've almost used all my rations, and it's been only a month since the war started. The artillery shells fire one after another, bombarding the trenches as the poor bastards on both sides pray for victory. I've seen the horrors after they raid the trenches, my brother's dying one after another, the bullets tear through the thin flesh like scissors cutting paper and the guts spill out like beef stew. Will he be remembered? Will I be remembered? Is this a worthy sacrifice just for a shred of land? Have the gods cursed us all? If god won't save us then who will?

Being in the fields of Verdun is an odd experience. I haven't been this far out before. If I plan on deserting, I have a long way to go. I want to go back to the good old days when I was more optimistic and hopeful of a better, quicker war. I can't help but feel a little dreadful knowing I fell for the propaganda. those lying bastards why must the people be the victim in this stupid pointless war. I just want this to be over. I want this all to be over. war war war what is it even good for. I feel stupider than before. How can this be? I fail to see how this war could benefit anyone in the end. the French might get alsace-lorraine back but that seems to be the only plus side. Why must so many die for a scrap of land? if that one guy would've just kept his gun in its holster, how different would things be? Could this all be a setup? likely not. It's funny how these trenches had more thought put into them than any of the tactics used during this modern war. It's been 100 years and yet we are still using the same tactics from the crusades, the crusades that out of the 9 crusades that did happen only 3 were successful. As I'm writing this it seems that an artillery bombardment might be on its way. These Germans fire their artillery about as well as blind men can drive, and those Austrians aren't much better. there's got to be a reason for this insanity. What god did I anger for this to happen? if you are going to try to kill me with artillery at least hit me with it you blind breadsplitter. The next time I am ordered to attack the other side I will be sure to kill whoever is responsible for the artillery fire in particular. I'd rather be dosed in mustard gas than hear another missed artillery shot.

11/10/1916 I've been shot, I called for a medic, but the medic is dead. Those bastards have gassed us! My digestive system is seeping out, with the ribs tearing from the inside. I feel like I'm being split open. The shreds of muscle and tissue turn scaly, my intestines wrap around me into a sweet little bow. My guts flatten into the blood and maggot ridden trenches. I scream for my father, but he is nowhere. I spotted a soldier thinking he could help me. But instead his mouth turns inside out, and 8 sharp legs slide out of his sides. His legs pierce my comrades' side by side. His neck extends to an unholy proportion with a massive hole in his neck and tiny legs down each neck muscle. Two long thin crab legs extend from his mouth and strike my eyes. I struggle and scream to god, as he lifts me up with these demonic crab legs: God help me, please, god help me. He unsheathes his dirty blood ridden cloth mask showing an indescribably malformed mouth. Out of his mouth comes a veiny meat demon. My commander begins barking orders: "Ihr Idioten! Rückzug, Rückzug jetzt!" (You idiots! Fallback, fallback now!). My commander puts this abomination to nature out of its misery. He looks at me and says "Stehen Sie auf, Private! Wir verschwinden von hier!" (get up private! We are getting out of here!) He lifts me up on his shoulder and I stumble on to the muddy dirt. "Du bist nutzlos." (you're useless.) He says as he leaves me behind to regroup with his men.