"The soldier above all others pray for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war." – Gen. Douglas MacArthur
LOCATION: LITTLETON, COLORADO – WESTBROOK RESIDENCE
DATE: MAY 21, 2035
TIME: 10:47:09
In one of the bathrooms of the Westbrook household was the famed soldier, First Lieutenant Derek Westbrook. He was standing there naked before the bathroom sink and mirror with his jaw covered in shaving cream and a razor in hand as he felt he needed a shave after taking a quick cold shower.
Tilting his head to the right, Derek slowly drew the razor over the skin of his jaw before rinsing the tool over the sink. With regards to having a beard, he is not exactly against it but over time, it does get annoying. That is why he either shaves it off completely or he keeps it short.
After he was done shaving, Derek let out a satisfied sigh and turned off the faucet and leaned over the sink. He looked at himself over the mirror and he often wondered how he was even still alive for this long for his body was covered with scars. The majority of them were bullet wounds, others were slash marks from knives, a few were burn scars and some were made when his broken bones tore through his flesh.
He also had two tattoos on his person. One was the insignia of the US Army Special Forces or otherwise known as the Green Berets and its famous motto, "De Oppresso Liber" on his right shoulder. The other was the insignia of his unit, the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment – Delta and inscribed over each side of the triangle were the words, "Velocitas, Opprimere, Violentia Operandi" on the back of his lower neck. They translate to, "Speed, Surprise, Violence of Action" and is the motto of Delta Force...but nobody needs to know that.
Call him sentimental like that.
Derek let out a tired sigh as he lowered his head. He has been living a long and harsh life and he had the scars – both physically and mentally – to prove it. Deep down, he knew he was almost dead inside. Apart from the horrors he has seen over the years, he has also committed his fair share of sins...horrible sins.
The things he did...there was a special place in hell reserved just for him, Derek knows. However, this life was the one he chose to live and shall continue to do so until his dying breath. It was his duty and burden to bear; his curse and no one else's.
The life of a soldier was never for those of the faint of heart.
Realizing that he was getting lost in his thoughts, Derek lightly shook his head and wrapped the towel around his waist before walking out of the bathroom and into his bedroom.
His room was rather Spartan with plain walls - a simple bed, a closet, a laptop that was showing the latest news, and a dresser. The only decorations the room had was the great collection of medals, patches, tabs, badges, and pictures he has had over his years of service. Mementos of the past and reminders of his accomplishments...but also reminders of what he had to lose to gain them.
Derek grunted as he took his clothes from the closet and threw them on the bed as the reporters gave him the latest news.
"The eyes of the world are now watching the United States as US forces begin mobilizing for war on an enemy that no one could have foreseen. Worldwide reactions vary as most believe that the US is in the right to declare war while others say that the United States' actions are that of a bully picking on weaker a nation."
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GATE: Worlds At War
Fanfiction"And I heard a voice in the midst of the Four Beasts. And I looked and behold - a pale horse. And his name that sat on him was Death. And Hell followed with him."
