Winter Collapse

Chapter 6

The tornado of snow and ice burned Captain's cheeks as he took one more step toward the base. His boots sinking further and further into the snow every minute he stayed out there. Swan laid neatly in his arms, leaving behind a trail of evidence with every drop of blood that was still in him. His legs dangled off of Captain's arms while his hands were wrapped under his jacket. His hair almost stuck in a falling motion.

"You will be disappointed if you go back." Said the voice, returning to see the misery that Captain would be returning with.

"You can't be disappointed..." Captain gasped for breath, "disappointed if...you're already dis-disappointed." He said. His respirator almost muffling his tired voice like a suppressor.

"There's more beyond just that." The voice replied. Captain didn't bother turning to see if it was the same mysterious person. He didn't care anymore. Only for his people. As he walked onward, the storm calmed down. He was nearing the warehouse. As he walked further and further through the heavy snow, the light shined on it. The snow glistening like a diamond. He was here...but he wasn't. The sentries were in even messier piles of scrap. As he walked inside, he immediately recognized the blood everywhere. Across the walls, on the floor, splashed on the crates. He was used to it at this point. He immediately laid Swan's body down and walked around. Metal pieces was laid out everywhere. Like they were thrown around and left to be forgotten. Until it wasn't just scrap metal. He picked up a piece and flipped it over. A blue, deactivated lens greeted him with a silent and cold stare. He immediately dropped it, them, and realized what happened. Servo was scattered around the floor. In pieces, leaving no piece working. He walked behind the crates, that were all scattered around and emptied. Artisan was sat against one of the crates. His billhook stabbed through the visor of his welding helmet. Motionless and tired. He walked into the room where it all began. Adrian was down on the floor, clenching his pistol even after death. Every bit of ammunition on the table messily scattered was gone. Used. Holding back tears, he opened the door and left to the medical room where Servo should've been. Safe and in one piece. Sergei's body was still on the table. He didn't care about how much blood was now freshly left behind, but realized that Sergei's head was gone from where it should've been. He found it on the ground, unsure of whether it was alive or not without the fact that it wasn't attached to his head. Staring at him because he was far too late. He walked out of the room, remembering that he still had 2 people that he knew weren't dead. He searched, now at a running pace around the warehouse. There they were in the corner. Zach was laid down next to Pathfinder. Zach's arm was completely missing from the world while Pathfinder's leg was completely smashed and bloodied. As Captain was about to leave, he noticed their fingers were intertwined. Curled together. He ripped the respirator off, every strap breaking off and tore the eyepatch off his eye and dropped both of them on the floor in an angry and desperate rage. He walked slowly out of the warehouse, dragging his boots on the ground, poking out every bullet on his vest and letting them fall, dropping them one by one on the floor. He took off his vest and threw it across the snow. There was nothing left of anyone now. There's nothing left of himself now.

"I tried to tell you." The voice said again. This time, the man appeared right in front of him. His guitar, still in hand. He looked no different. Captain wanted to burst. No matter how painful his journey was. Through blood and blades, everything would be inferior to the amount of pain that was swallowing him whole and leaving him alive to suffer.

"The evacuation is still in effect, you may still go." He said, coming closer. Captain gave him hard, cold look of surrender and defeat.

"Why do we still wake up every day just to feel the ice-cold breath of death," he said, "why don't we all kill ourselves – knowing we'll die as soon as the storm comes to grab us by it's icy tongue and swallow us whole. The ground bears more blood than I hold, my weapon splattered in an unwashable sinful red, why don't we all give up!" He cried, letting his tears wash down to his mouth, "Why can't we escape this mental decay!" Captain shouted, looking down at the snow. "I have no team left, I'm not a captain. I have nothing left. There is nothing left here but suffering and death." He said. He laid down on the snow, hoping it would turn into quick sand, and curled into a fetal position. Wrapping himself up in the terribly cold warmth of his body. The man only watched as he broke down in more tears.

"We are born not to survive but to endure. One man sharpens another's blade, and that is what you have done. You are all connected. Friend and foe, dead and alive. Your fighting, iron will to stay alive is what bonds you all together. A friendship that will never be shown through compassion or friendliness." He sat down next to the body of Captain.

"Lay down and close your eyes," he said, holding his guitar in a playing position.

"Let me play you a song, your journey, no matter how heroic or immoral, has come to a close."