Berserk

Chapter 1: Amnesia

Dust blew in the wind around me. The occasional crack in the distance sent a chunk of led whistling overhead. It didn't faze me anymore though. My battle buddy and I had been on tour for a little over three months now. Two special forces operatives, stationed in the middle of this God forsaken place with a platoon of a bunch of rookies. Then again, we were all rookies to combat. Despite the people around us being Privates in the army, this was all our first time on the front lines. I preferred the quiet times. Time I had to think. Not my partner though. No, he had to always be in the action. Fighting had been a part of his life since he was young. We were two peas in a pod. We completed one another. The reason we were assigned to one another was because of how well we got along. He was similar in build to me as well as similar in height. We could've been brothers, even though we looked nothing alike. I was Caucasian with a mild tan, dark hair, and amber eyes. He was pale, with light blonde hair and pale blue eyes. I managed the sun a little better than he did. Since day one he began to burn, so he covered up every inch of skin he had. He wore a fabric gator around his neck. He had the fabric pulled up above his nose, so that only his eyes were peeking out from in-between the mask and his ballistic helmet. The mask had a print of a skull's lower half, below the eyes. This skull mask landed him the call-sign 'Reaper'. I didn't have a call-sign yet. "Them things come with time mate," he always said to me. I was eager to get my own call-sign. One day. Both he and I were kitted out with the same gear, except the mask. Each of us had dessert camouflage pants and shirts. We had tan plate carriers and ballistic helmets. We each had our own custom M4A4 rifles. An ideal sidearm and melee weapon at our sides. We were nearly identical if it weren't for his iconic mask he wore. The Reaper and nobody special. We were quite the team. Reaper and I were near an abandoned bombed out town. We were taking small arms fire from where we were, but it was nothing extremely concerning. Likely some pot-shots to keep us at bay. The other men rested and took refuge in the nearby husks of buildings. Occasionally a bullet would smack a wall not too far from one of us. No one flinched. "You recon them Towelheads will try n' ambush us soon?" Reaper asked me. "Depends. We shouldn't let our guard down," I said. "Yeah, you're right mate. I'll go shout out the surroundings and see if I can find a few choke points we can hold'em' at," Reaper said. "Give me a minute to finish my chow and I'll be right with you," I said. "I'll get a head start," he said. "Don't do nothin' stupid," I said. "No promises mate," said with a wink. He wasn't a careful man, but damn was he charming. What he lacked in brains he made up for it in charisma. I shoveled down the rest of my food from my MRE and picked up my rifle to join him in surveying our terrain. As I walked through the barren and dusty streets I passed a sign. I dismissed the sign shortly after observing it. It had a skull on it with a warning in a language I didn't understand, so I forgot I even saw it. I was within twenty yards from Reaper as he walked briskly around the perimeter of the ruins of the small town. "You reckon they can hit me from here?" he asked jokingly. "Judging by how they haven't hit anything yet, I doubt it," I said. He smiled and continued his carefree walking through the sand. A shot whizzed past through the twenty yard gap between us and landed somewhere nearby in the sand with a thud. I aimed a middle finger in the direction from which the shot came. "Do better next time sand crawler!" I shouted out to the open air. My attention was directed away from Reaper. A faint click came from his direction. I turned my head quickly to see what the noise was. Mere seconds later I was thrown back with so much force that it cracked my helmet and back against some nearby rubble. My hearing vanished instantly. My vision blurred and spun and pain shot throughout my body. I was bleeding slowly from my left arm and leg. I let out a shout and sat up painfully. The other soldiers from our platoon came running over to me. They helped me to my feet. They were shouting at me and looked concerned. I couldn't hear a word they were saying. Smoke clouds and faint flames came from the source of the force. I pushed past the Privates and made my way to where Reaper was last standing. He lay still on the ground, a few feet away from a smoldering crater in the sand. Pieces of metal shrapnel littered the ground. I walked over to the still remains of my partner. His legs were nowhere to be seen. I cradled his head. He bled quickly from the gaping wound of his lower half. He lifted his head weakly and grasped my hand. "Kill every last one of em' sons of bitches," he said to me weakly. "Not without you, I can't," I said. He weakly reached up and pulled his skull gator completely off of his head. He handed it to me. "What word comes before Reaper?" he asked me. I shook my head and grasped his hand harder. "Take it. It's yours now," he said. "No," I said, pushing it back to him. "I want them to see the last piece of me left before they die. All of them," he said. I reluctantly took the mask. "You ain't dying on me," I said. "Jus' let me go mate. I wasn't long for this world anyway," he said. His grip on my hand loosened some. "I ain't lettin' you go brother," I said. "I'll make sure to watch over ya'. Keepin' you out of trouble n' all," he said, his voice fading away. "No!" I shouted at him. His grip loosened fully and his hand fell limply to the ground. His pale blue eyes hazed over. The Reaper was no more. I closed my eyes and lowered my head. When I reopened my eyes, I saw the world in a new light. Hatred and anger fueled my every move. I stood from Reaper's side and walked to the place I had been thrown minutes before. I picked up my rifle and began walking in the direction of the previous bullet. "Where are you going?" A Private behind me asked. "To kill them all," I replied. When I was finished, I would go home. I racked the bolt of my rifle and began to run through the sands of the desert off into the night...

I sat up quickly and took a deep and fast breath in. I panted and struggled for air. My eyes slowly focused on my surroundings. I was nowhere near the dusty sand of the Middle East, but In a log cabin. It was small and cozy. It was comfortable. I then realized that I did not own a log cabin. My heart began to race. I looked down at my body. Faded tattoos and scars alike, both of which I did not recognize, met my eyes. I was sitting on a queen sized bed in nothing but my boxers. The room was friendly and welcoming. Despite this, I did not feel welcome or comfortable. Not one bit. I tried to turn my head to the right to survey my surroundings further, but pain shooting up and down my spine prevented me from doing so. I made a grunt of pain out loud. Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching me rapidly. My pulse quickened evermore. An older man burst into the room. "Well I'll be damned!" he said, looking at me with wonder and awe. "Where am I?" I asked. "Settle down son, here. Drink," he said, handing me a glass of water. I extended a shaky hand and took the glass of water. There were two tubes hooked up to the back of my hand, leading to my right. The older man sat on the side of the bed and stared at me. We sat in silence until I finished drinking my water fully. When I did, he finally spoke again. "You know, I thought you were dead. That is, two years ago when I found ya'," he said with a chuckle. 'Two years?' I thought to myself. "You found me?" I asked him. "Sure did. Heard some gunfire North of here. Did my usual scoutin' of the river and by golly I found a man looking like a drowned corpse washed up on the bank," he said with a proud smile. "What happened to me?" I asked him. "Well I was hopin' you could've told me," he said. "What do you remember?" he asked me. "I was in the deserts during my deployment... My battle buddy, Reaper, had just stepped on an IED... I went off into the wilderness to kill the bastards who planted the damn things..." I said slowly. The man outstretched his hand gently and placed it on my right shoulder. "Son. The war in the Middle East ended almost ten years ago," he said with a grave look on his face. "By the looks of it, you killed all them people who killed your friend," he added. "How did I get here?" I asked. "I already told ya'," he said. "No, how did I get back here from overseas?" I asked. "You likely came home with the rest of the troops after the war ended. Not too long after the war, I'd say bout five years after it ended, the whole damn world ended," he said. The world ended? What the hell was he talking about? "What do you mean the world ended?" I asked. "Look around you, son. The dead have been walking among us for almost three years now," he said. "Lucky for you, you missed most of it," he said. "How so?" I asked. "You've been in a coma for about two years," he said. "Two years!?" I shouted. "Easy now," he said, trying to calm me down. "How long exactly was I out?" I asked. "Two years and about a month," he said. "And you've been keeping me alive?" I asked. "I was a medic in the Marines before all this," he said. "What war did you serve in?" I asked. "The Russian v. Europe war," the man replied. That war was a few decades before the war I served in. I was just a boy. "Why did you keep me alive?" I asked. "Because every human life is precious now," he said. "You said I looked like a corpse. Did you mistake me for one of the dead you were talking about?" I asked. "You should get yer rest," he said, cutting off the conversation. He handed me a handful of pills. "Two of em' are for pain, the other two are for sleep," he said. "Give me a moment and I'll be back with more water," he said. He stood from the bed and walked out of the room. I took the moment to let his words sink in. I had been in a coma for two years and seemingly forgot the past almost ten years, maybe more. I reached up a shaky hand and felt my face and head. My head was wrapped with bandages. Long greasy hair could be felt underneath the wrappings. My face had a deep groove in my skin. running down my left eye. I felt around my jaw and cheek. The skin of my cheek on my right side seemed to be missing, as I could feel teeth and bone which were exposed to the open air. I heard the man's footsteps quickly approaching again so I stopped touching my face. He came into the room again and handed me the water. I popped the pills into my mouth and took them with the water. He took the glass when I was finished with it. He began to walk away but I called him back. "What can I call you?" I asked him. "Name's Ranger," he said. "What's yours, son?" he asked me. I went pale for a moment. "I..." stammered. "What happened to my head?" I asked out of nowhere. He clenched his jaw and looked away. "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning," he said walking out of the room. I was left alone in the room. Alone, with my thoughts. One thought remained in my mind for as long as I stayed awake. What was my name?...