Don't envy a sinner (Peaky Blinders)

Hell in ones mind

(Zindelo's P.O.V.)
War reduces human beings to mere objects. We have no names, no faces. We are just targets, nothing more, to be shot at from a distance. I was a younger man but my seaker was even younger. Our outpost was in the heart of Namur. At nightfall, heavy guns boom in the distance, but I do not flinch. A sniper never flinches, in fear of missing his shot. From the rooftop I observe the scene, an armored car pulls up. I do not shoot at it, realising that the bullets will not pierce heavy armor. An older man makes his way to the car. "He's going to tell them our position, Sonny" Albert said from beside me, "how far?" I question him. "250" he replies and I re-set my sniper to the right distance. I watch as the man informs the gunner of our position. Soon the gunner gets out with his weapon, ready to take us out. His mistake. With ease, I kill the gunner and than immediatly the man. No emotion. They are targets, not a face, I remind myself. Then suddenly, gunfire from the opposite roof. The bullet grazes my shoulder and Albert pulls me down for cover. "Which roof?" Albert questioned as he pushed an old rag against my wound. "Straight ahead, second window from the left. 3rd floor" I groan at him. He nodds and takes my sniper. He can't use, like I can, but he always has a plan in mind. He placed a helmet on the muzzle of my weapon, he pokes the barrel over the roof. I chuckle as I watch him, bait the other sniper. A bullet whizzes through the hat, immediatly Albert tilts the riffle. So the hat falls off before hanging his left hand over the small wall. He drops the rifle and slumps down, dragging his hand back. An amazing display of acting like he had been shot and killed. I tiger crawl to the wall, so I could peek through a small crack. I watch the other sniper leave the safety of his cover, standing up so he could look across, to confirm his kill. I bring my revolver into posistion, and fire. Killing the enemy, who drops his rifle before falling forward of the roof and onto the pavement below. "Confirmed K.I.A" Albert said confirming the kill. I look down at the pavement. Blood, lots of blood, spilling from the shattered head of the soldier.

My eyes snap open and I sit up abrubtly. Looking around me frantically, I realise that I am home. What I had seen was just a nightmare. A nightmare that felt all to real. The image of the soldier with the shattered head, once again flashed through my mind. My senses reminding me of the awfull smell and sight. Unvolunteeringly I puked. I groaned and sat back down, wiping away some of the vomit that lingered on my lips with shaking hands. "Fucking war" I cursed standing up so I could clean the floor. Before I decided to go back to sleep. Well, back to the war.

"Who's there?! Shelby go take a look". I groan as I hear Woodson, the only person in our group who outranks me, order me to go take a look. I was annoyed because there just had been a switch in those who stand guard. I was now the one who got to have a break and get some food or sleep. But Woodson trust me the most in eliminating a threat, so that's why he send me out. I rise to my feet and grab my gun, before walking away from the fire. Albert gives me a pityfull look as I pass him. I step into the darkness of the forest that surrounded us. I raise my gun and with a simple click load it while scanning the area. The only sound I hear was my controlled breathing and the dry leafs crunching underneath my boots. I wip around as the bushes rustle next to me. My heart begins to beat faster, fear slowly corrupts my mind. What or who is there? An ally? An enemy? A civillion? I gulp, my fingers hovering over the trigger of my weapon as I slowly move forward. "For fuck sake" I hiss as a rabit sprints out of the bushes, shooting in between my legs. My heart is racing in a result. I let out a deep breath, regaining my calmness before heading back to camp.

I stir in my sleep as the dream changes from the campfire in the dark forest, to the small village of Saint-Veran.

Standing with my seaker Albert Walsh and another soldier, nicknamed Tipp, we look around the village we just liberated. I was still alert of everything around me. "Calm down, Sonny" Tipp said with a laugh, "they are all dead". "He's a sniper. They always stay alert" Albert informs Tipp as the two laugh. The rest of our group, three other soldiers, searched the village for any breathing enemies. Wanting to make sure most to all of them are dead, Before we would signal to the larger army behind us that it was clear. I was part of the scouting platoon. We scout and kill so that the rest of the army could move forward without a hinder. Large trucks, tanks and a lot of other soldiers. My eyes catch something from the corner of my eye. It was a tree with what looks like a building around it. Its hollow trunk is used as the walls of the two chapels. "The Chêne chapelle" Albert commented stepping next to me. "When the tree was nearing 500 years of age, it was struck by lightning; the resulting fire burned slowly through the center and hollowed the tree out. The local Abbot Du Detroit and the village priest, Father Du Cerceau, claimed that the lightning striking and hollowing the tree was an event that had happened with holy purpose. So they built a place of pilgrimage devoted to the Virgin Mary in the hollow. My favorite tree". Albert Walsh, a man who just loved nature and its tree. I humm at him as he continues. A great joyfull spark in his eyes shine. Then a snapping twig comes from behind us. Out of caution I raise my gun but don't shoot. "Easy, Shelby, it's just us" Officer Woodson said with a chuckle as he pats me on my shoulder, "like a working dog who can't ever sit still". "You want me to be a show dog then?" I comment back making him laugh, "no, all the show dogs are back home" he refers to the high politcians and such who refuse to participate in the war, yet some had helped starting it. I turn my attention to the unfamiliar person who was being carried by the Pascal twins. "Who do we have here?" I question and lean down into the young soldiers face. "German soldier" Pedro tells me, "doesn't speak a word of english" Paulie adds to his brother. I humm and stand back up before turning to Officer Woodson. "How many?" I question as I light a cigarette and hand it to him before lighting my own. "15. 16 if you include the kid" he tells me and motions his head to the German soldier, "3 civillions". "You think he has any information?" I question, "I doubt it. But you may try" he simply shruggs. I turn on my heel and stalk back to the Pascal twins and the German boy. He was still in fact a boy, to me he looked like an 18 year old. Compared to my group whose age are between 21 and 29. The twins roughly push the boy down to his knees while I squat down in front of him. "Ihren Namen" I ordered him to tell me his name (your name). I knew just enough to be able to communicate with German soldiers. Although you could still hear my Birmingham accent. The kid was suprised as I had spoken in German at him. "Sag mir!" I yelled grabbing his neck and pulling him forward (tell me). But the kid refuses to answer me. I grab my knife and show it to him, mockingly swiping it infront of his neck "sprechen oder sterben" (speak or die). Again he is not faced by my threat and just silently sits on his knees. I growl and flip the knife in my hand ready to hurt him. But then a scream from Albert errupts through the air "grenade!". Before I even got the change to register his words, I was pushed away by my friend. "Albert! No!" I screamed but it was to late. He had tackled the german boy to the ground and then the grenade went off. A loud explosion, dust and diet flying up in the air before carefully falling back down. "Walsh!" I scream scrambling to my feet and running to where Albert had tackled the German kid. The dust settled around me as I stood frozen in my place. "Albie!" I yell as I run towards his body. My hands hovering over him, scared to hurt him more if I touched him. But I snap myself out of it and turn him around. Schrapnel from the grenade is stuck inside of his chest, blood lightly trickling down his face. I pull my pack to the side and take out a shot of morphine before inserting it in his arm. "Albie?!" I cry out as I wipe some blood from his face. "Albie?" I whisper with a stutter, "please". My breath fets caught in my throat as Albert moves in my arms before opening his eyes. Scared and painfull eyes look up at me "it... h..hurt..s" he chokes. "I know" I tell him before turning my head "give me more morphine!". Tipps quickly comes by my side and gives Albert another shot. A hiss falling from his lips. "Lads. We have to go!" Officer Woodson tells us with a nervous tone. I look up at him, before following his gaze. "Fuck" I curse as I see a group of the enemy make their way towards us. "Tipp, help me get him to his feet" I order. The youngest of our group helps me lift Albert to his feet. An agonizing scream leaving his throat and he slumps down to the floor again. "Shelby we need to go!" Woodson yells as he fires his gun off. Again Tipp and I try to lift Albert up, but no use. "Albert, you need to get up!" I order him, but he shakes his head "I... ca..an't". I growl. Fine then we will defend. I grab my gun and turn to the enemy. Anger fuels me at the thought that they wounded Albert. It doesn't take long before we take the upper hand once again. After all, they still had fewer soldiers than we had in our group. My shoulders rise and fall in anger as I keep my gun raised after dropping the last soldier. "Zindelo". I turn my head to face Woodson, who never calls me Zindelo, only if something was serious. A sad expression on his face as he stands next to Albert. I swing my gun around my shoulder and run up to him. I look over Albert's features, pale as the first fallen snow, still loosing blood and raspy breathes in pain. "Zindelo. He's-", "No!" I cut my officer off, "no! We will fix him. Just hive me another morphine shot". "Zindelo, it won't help" Tipps said shaking his head. My face filled with fear looks as the all say their goodbyes to our brother before walking away. "We will leave you two for a moment" Woodson said gripping my shoulder. "Albert Walsh" Woodson said and salutes him before walking away with Tipps and the twins. I turn my head back towards Albert "please fight" I begg him. He shakes his head "I'm done, Sonny" he breathes out in pain. I watch him reach for his gun and hands it to me with a pleading look in his eyes. "No, I can't" I tell him. "Rather you, than one of those bastards". He pushes the gun into my hand "Ple..ase". A tear falls down from my face as I agree. I lean forward, and he does the same. I hesitate for a milisecond before I decide to kiss him. There was notjing sweet or gentle in that last kiss. It was filled with sorrow and desperation. Of the bitter knowledge that we could've had something perfect, but it was just not meant to be. The loud bang fills my ear drums. I feel Albert fall away from my lips. I choke a cry as I place him back against the ground. I stay there for a moment, holding Albert's hand which begins to become cold. Lifeless eyes stare up at the sky. I then lean forward and push my forehead against his own "in the bleak mid-winter" I whisper.

I sit in my make-shift bed as I spin Albert's dog tag in between my fingers. Even after all these years, the image of Albert was still clear in my mind. Hell, evwn that stupid tree where I had buried him next to was still vivid in my mind. I was still able to feel Albert's lips against mine. In all these years, I had kissed no one else. He was my first and also my last. Although my lips have kissed and bit necks, collarbones and such. Never have they gotten to feel someone elses lips. I refuse to. Everytime someone tried to, I had turned away from them. The door to my room opens up. Unwillingly my mind snaps back to the war.

I grab my gun and raise it to the enemy who stands in the doorway. I shoot but the soldier doesn't fall down. "You do know that's a pillow right?" The enemy asked with a familiar voice.

Recognizing the voice my mind comes back to reality. Instead of the enemy, it was Alfie who stands in the doorway. Instead of my gun, I am holding a pillow. I scoff and toss it aside. "Your condition is getting worse if you think a pillow is supposed to be a gun" Alfie states walking inside. "I don't have a condition" I snap at him and stand up while putting the dog tags back around my neck. Two that belong to me and one that belongs to Albie. "I thought you called for me. Then I realized you actually called for Albie" he told me. My mind flashes an image of Albert Walsh into my brain at the mention of the nickname I gave him. I lean a hand against the wall, to balance myself. Before shaking my head to remove him from my vision. I move my hand up and its shaking again. I blink my eyes in a harsh manor.

"Sonny!", "get down!". Gun fire going off. Bombs falling from the sky.

I gasp for air.

Blood. Lots of blood. The smell of rotten bodies of soldiers who died long time ago.

I start to feel my heart pick up speed.

A small child who mockingly shoots at us with his fingers.

(Alfie's P.O.V.)
I watch on as Zindelo begans to be consumed by his mind. Whispers of orders to a Privat called Tipps leave his lips before he moves again. Like he was clearing a building, with his hands up but with no gun. I follow him quietly. He might not have a gun or anything in his hands. But knowing how dangerous Zindelo can be, I decided against snapping him out of it. The state I found him in the bedroom, was much different than this one. Then, a poor soul gets the full force of his state. Zindelo slams the young adult against the wall. Before beginning to talk in an unfamiliar language for me. "What are you talking about!" The young guy screams at Zindelo. Again Zindelo growls a word out, I later learned it was German, and slams the guy in the wall again. Desperate eyes turn towards me, begging for help. But luckily for the boy, Zindelo's mind tells him to move further. He lets go and continues. During his walk he tosses and destroys things. "Zindelo!" I call out. No reaction from the Blinder. "Sonny!". Nothing again. Then a loud voice booms through the hall "Zindelo!". It was Tommy who called out and was now striding towards his brother. Zindelo turns his head and I can't tell if he recognizes Tommy or not. I guess not because Zindelo grabs Tommy by the collar of his shirt and slams him against a nearby table. But Thomas is able to get the upper hand and throws him off of him. Falling to the ground, he lifts his hand to block a blow. But Tommy never makes a move to strike his brother. Zindelo lowers his shaking hands, his eyes now showing an emotion. He had came back to reality. "Tommy?". His brother nods and extends a hand before pulling Zindelo up to his feet. He flinches slightly as a loud bang comes through the warehouse. Eyes filled with horror. "You're back home. Not in France" Tommy tells him pulling him in so they now leaned their foreheads to each other. Tommy turns to me and I see in his eyes that he wants to have a talk with me about Zindelo.

Published: 13th of May 2023

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