Army Of Angels (A Glanny Fan Fiction)

Chapter Thirteen

Army Of Angels.

Chapter Thirteen:

I'm back in the trenches. Back in the trenches. Against my will. I didn't want to come back here. Not like this. This was supposed to be the only place that I could escape and yet I'm back here. I could even smell the stench of chlorine and rotting bodies. Mix that with the smell of soldiers' feet and sweat and you've got me positively retching. The shells pound against my ears and the shrapnel flies past my head and yet I'm riveted to the spot. I can't move. Can't run. I want to. I so want to. I need to get out I here. I can stand it here. There I see Wilfred standing by the fire bay and he is smiling. Waving. Happy. Content. That's my Wilfred. That chap always had a good old smile on his face. ... Realisation dawned on me faster than a grenade flies through the air. Wilfred can't be here. He physically can't be here. He's gone. He's dead! He's in the pile amongst the other bodies. That's all he is. A body. No burial. No gravestone. No memorial. Nothing to remember him by. Except... That one memory that I have and can't erase from my mind. Rats. Wilfred turned to smile at me. A brown rat scampered across his feet and he jumped back just as I did. He watched the rat run down the trench and take a left right turn down another section of the trench. He turned his attention back to me. His smile just a ghost on his face. His lips parted slightly as if he were going to say something but couldn't. He shook his head before walking away to another fire bay near by. Then I saw it happen in front of my eyes. The shell coming in full blast. I open my mouth to shout a warning but no sound comes. My voice is buried in a mass of shouts and explosions. Wilfred's scream for help pierced through the gunshots. How did I miss this before? Once more I am riveted to the spot. All I could do is watch. I felt a hand on my shoulder. With shock I turned on my heel in a brash movement. There stood Wilfred. Just as I remember him. Half decomposed and eaten. Eyes gouged out. Bits of flesh that had been ripped off still clung to his bones. Just like some of the meat does when you carve a chicken. I couldn't move. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his skeletal hand on my shoulder. My breathing became harsh and my heart rate quickened. Wilfred leaned in closer so we were eye to eye. Or at least we would have been if ... Well ... The rats hadn't got to him.

"Wilfred! But you were over there a minute ago!" I exclaimed.

"I was. But I've been here for longer. I'm with you Glen. You can't shake me from your mind. I know it. I can feel it. You're tied to me just as much as I am tied to you," he said.

"Help me!" I begged.

"Ah Glen. I would. But did you help me? When I needed you where were you? Cowering. You're a coward Glen. Nothing you will do will change that," he said and he opened his mouth fully where the black rat came out flying towards me once more. I fell backwards and woke with a scream and a shout.

I looked around to see General O'Donoghue with his hand on my shoulder. A pitying look crossed his face. Beads of sweat decorated my face. He got up and left the room without a word. Of course he would leave. I'm just a private with a serious head problem. Then again, to him I am more than that, right?

He came back in with a flannel in his hand. He gave me that same pitying look as he came and sat back down on the edge of my bed. He moved his hand towards my hair and brushed it lightly out of the way. He didn't seem to care that he was dropping water onto my bed from the dripping flannel. Once he had moved my hair out of the way he placed the flannel into my forehead and kept his hand on it, holding it in place.

"Thanks General-" I started but he interrupted.

"Danny to you," he corrected.

"Thank you Danny,"

"It was no problem. Nightmares again?" He asked.

I nodded. For the past few nights I'd been having these god awful nightmares. I couldn't do anything to stop them.