The morning sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays spilling over the military base like liquid fire.
I adjusted the straps on my pack, the weight of the day's responsibilities already pressing down on me.
After hours of grueling training, I was eager to catch some fresh air and shake off the exhaustion clinging to my muscles.
The barracks were unusually quiet, save for the rhythmic clink of boots against concrete and the distant hum of base activity.
I walked slowly, savoring the cool breeze that carried with it a faint metallic tang from the base's machinery.
That's when I heard it.
A voice cutting through the relative calm like a whip.
"Get up! What is this nonsense? Stand at attention!"
I paused mid-step, my ears straining to pick up more.
The voice belonged to none other than Sergeant Thomas, the man known for his volcanic temper and penchant for barking orders at anyone who crossed his path.
Curious, I veered toward the commotion, my footsteps light as I approached the source.
A small group had gathered near the training grounds.
In the center of it all, Sergeant Thomas towered over four soldiers sprawled out on the ground like discarded rag dolls.
Their uniforms were wrinkled, their faces pale, and their eyes wide with a haunted look I have never seen before.
"You call yourselves soldiers?" Thomas roared, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. "Look at you! Pathetic! Lying around like lifeless corpses when there's work to be done! What happened to you?"
The four men exchanged nervous glances, their mouths opening and closing as if they were struggling to find the words.
The leader of the group, the one with the crooked nose, managed to stammer.
"S-sir, it was... it was a figure... in the dark."
Thomas stopped mid-stride, his eyes narrowing.
"A figure? What are you talking about? Speak clearly, soldier!"
"It came out of nowhere," another one muttered, his voice barely audible.
He clutched his head as though reliving the ordeal was physically painful.
"Blue eyes... glowing in the dark. It... it hit us."
Thomas looked unimpressed.
"Hit you? You mean to tell me a single figure took down all four of you? Do you think this is some kind of joke?"
"It wasn't human!" the leader blurted out, his voice cracking. "It was... it had this tray... an iron tray... and it—"
The sergeant's face turned an alarming shade of red.
"Enough of this nonsense! You expect me to believe you were beaten by a... a tray-wielding ghost?, Do you take me like an idiot?"
He pointed a finger at them, his voice dripping with scorn.
"You're a disgrace to this uniform!"
The other three soldiers cowered, their heads bowed, but the leader continued, desperation etched into his features.
"It kept muttering food names! Every hit, mashed potatoes, meatloaf, green beans... It was like a nightmare, sir. I swear on my life!"
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Thomas, his patience clearly at its limit, barked.
"You've lost your damn minds. You're all unfit for duty!" He turned to another soldier nearby. "Call the city hospital. Tell them we've got four lunatics who need immediate evaluation!"
The crowd began to murmur as a few soldiers stepped forward to assist.
The bullies didn't go willingly, of course.
The three underlings struggled, shouting incoherent pleas as they were dragged off toward the medical vehicles that had just arrived.
But the leader...
he wasn't finished.
As the other soldiers grabbed him by the arms, he thrashed wildly, his voice rising above the chaos.
"It wasn't a dream! I saw it! I saw the figure! Those eyes... I'll never forget those eyes! They're still watching me!"
He was hauled away kicking and screaming, his words growing fainter with every step.
I stood at the edge of the scene, watching it all unfold.
My lips curled into a grin that I couldn't suppress.
The memory of last night played in my mind like a well-rehearsed act, and the sound of the iron tray hitting their heads echoed in my thoughts.
"Mashed potatoes, it was nice," I muttered under my breath, chuckling as I turned to leave.
The day wasn't going to wait for me.
I had my outside wall duty to report to, and my team would already be gathering.
Adjusting the strap of my pack again, I walked away from the scene, leaving the chaos and confusion behind me.
As I moved, the laughter bubbled up once more.
The image of Sergeant Thomas's face as he tried to make sense of the bullies' ramblings was a memory I would carry with me for a long time.
Maybe my life here won't be so bad after all.