the story of Anvil Pt. 1 EN

Chapter 1 : Ghosts of the past

I opened my eyes slowly, my ears were ringing but I didn't know why, a pain in my chest was all I could hear, my legs and arms didn't respond.

At first I thought I was dying but I felt neither cold nor hot, my eyes still could not focus the room, the only things that reminded me of being still alive were the pain in my chest and the constant ringing in my ears; suddenly a hand fell on my head and the sounds began to be heard more clearly, between that deafening whistle now I could hear gunshots and screams and among these, the voice of my brother who called me.

:<<Get up Anvil, I won't see you die today>> shouted my brother clearly in panic :<<Bishop and Carlos are dead, the door was booby-trap>> my brother put a hand under my neck and slightly lifted my head, he allowed me to see what was pressing on my chest and it was the torso of a man, my once black uniform now had a scarlet connotation given by the blood of what was once my companion.

:<<we must move, the rest of the team is holding the enemies but they won't withstand long>> i start to feel again my arms and legs, calmly I tried to get back on my feet while my brother moved away from me the carcass of what once was probably Bishop.

:<<take these>> screamed as he passed a suitcase and a gun to me :<<The helicopter won't land far, we need to get to it as quickly as possible>> I was reacquainting lucidity and with it the fear and the awareness that all that mess was my fault, The person who had to tell the team to check if the door was booby-trapped was me and instead, in a hurry, I had told my friends to go in immediately and retrieve the package.

The blood that was soaking my uniform was the blood of my friends, of the people who entrusted their lives in my hands... I looked up to find support in my brother's eyes but he was no longer there, he was in the coffin at my feet, beside 10 others, all with the English flag folded and carefully placed over them.

Chapter 2 : Awakening in Rome

:<<Hey, are you okay?>> asked Trench as he shook him by a shoulder, Anvil woke up suddenly and with his heart racing tried to understand where he was, the morning light through the window numbed him.

:<< calm down man, you're safe, all the fun will start later.>> said Trench with a smile :<<I felt like you were having a nightmare and I thought I could save you>>, Anvil shook his head, he hadn't dreamed that day for 2 months and have done it now made him feel uncomfortable, thinking well it was also 2 months that he was not touching alcohol and morphine, the thought fell on his psychologist

maybe the nightmares were really related to his abuses.

Trench tried to open a speech with his partner, who however let him off with a grunt, Anvil had just entered the agency and despite the psychologist had told him it was essential to start talking to others, he did not feel ready yet.

The English giant looked out the window, thought how long it had been since he resigned from the British SAS.... it was 7 years ago

7 years spent with a bottle in one hand and a dose of morphine in the other, always drunk and high, fighting against his own nightmares; Anvil smiled slightly, he thought about the meeting with Trench, the beatings they gave each other and then apologized, the recovery center and then the return to military discipline. He had sworn on his brother's grave that he would never again cause the death of a fellow soldier, and at the end here he was, on a helicopter bound for Rome, in Italy, as a soldier.