Anything broken can be fixed,
but it will never be fixed,
nothing can become what it once was.
- Caregiver
There was someone who once said that it is hope that delivers disappointment, yet mankind yearns for death to end it all in the absence of hope; how ironic it is — the paradox of hope.
This is a reminder that some scars never fade, no matter how hard one tries to mend them. In a world where every shattered life held a story, there was a boy who dared to repair the fragments of what had been once broken.
He was trying to mend something that may as well be irreparable. But, given time, he became a man who understood; that not all fragments are meant to be restored.
Here is the tale of a man who learned to let go of what has been lost, and the man who learned to embrace the beauty of what was left. This is the beginning, of when he was just a boy.
The tale starts off in an illegal arms-dealing camp in a desolate desert, there is just one road leading to the place, heavily monitored — or it used to be, but there seems to be an attack going on.
———
"There is one down," a handheld transceiver crackled, its signal echoing for no receiver to pick up. "Requesting sniper aid, over."
A bloodied arm, clad in a red sleeve and leather glove, reached for the device. Fresh smears of crimson blood streaked its green surface as the man lifted it to his masked face. His dark, full-faced mask and long red coat gave him the 'do not mess with me' man vibe.
"Sniper aid denied," He said in a deep, husky voice, "Sniper has been eliminated, over."
"..." Silence followed. No gunfire, no static, there were not even gunshots — it was evident that the other side had been eliminated.
But the static clicked again, "Understood, make this quick before Van arrives and makes a mess of the place." a female voice replied.
The man smiled after hearing the voice, as if he was relieved. "You take too much time," His tone softened, "and yeah if he makes a scene, reinforcements are the least of our worries."
But there was no reply, "For fuck's sake why don't she say something?" He made sure the speak button was pressed and his message went through.
"It is not necessary," Her voice came through his earpiece.
"I should have asked Silvy instead of you," He said through the Handheld transceiver instead of using the earpiece.
"Well Good luck with that," She went silent.
"More like go fuck yourself, cold-hearted bitch," he cursed under his breath, tossing the transceiver onto the table with a clatter.
The reply was a laugh coupled with a few men screaming, "You know what Cain? You are never going to get her with that level of patience."
"Again... fuck you, Maya" He replied to his earpiece.
He put the handheld transceiver back properly on the table and turned back to leave, the floor was a mess of thick blood that felt like an unhardened jelly. A man in bulletproof armor lay in the blood pool, his body occasionally shaking. The stench of blood was thick, it could make an ordinary man puke, but Cain was too used to the stench.
"Oh, you're not dead?" He sounded almost concerned, as if he had not just put a bullet through the man's head. "Allow me to put you out of your misery then." He looked at the collection of arms in the room, his eyes scanning the guns.
"Yeah this would work," He took a knife from on top of a small box between two crates. Without wasting time, he slit the man's throat, ending his suffering.
The pool of blood gushing out from his bullet wounds slowed down as the opening on his neck was bigger. Like, literally... there was no head to catch the blood flow.
Cain paid no mind to his boots being soaked in red as he made his way toward the door. He took out two Glock 19 pistols and pushed his back against the wall near the door, getting careless was the first step to dying.
Slowly, he leaned his head toward the open door. Just as his head reached the opening, he pushed his head out swiftly and took it back just as fast. A bullet echoed through the hall outside.
"I knew it!" Cain cursed under his breath, looking around for anything useful. Ahh the head! He rushed to the head he had cut before.
"They have the control center, do not take orders from the HQ." The transceiver hissed.
"Fools," He muttered as he took the head and planted it on a rifle's spike. With the head, he could scout more information.
He put away his pistols, put a helmet on the head, and pushed it out quickly in another position previously he put his own head. He withdrew it just as quickly and went in once again. But this time, he delayed just a bit before pulling it, again a bullet echoed through the hall.
"There!" he got the enemy's position, "Now for the fight," There were plenty of gadgets inside his coat, and he took out a
Making sure the noise was heard, he pulled the pin on his flashbang. Holding the grenade in his off-hand, he threw the flashbang through the door and took cover.
The enemies already knew some explosive was coming as they had heard the pin pull, they quickly took cover, ready to engage just as the stun went off. But Cain pulled the pin on his grenade which was masked by the flashbang, he threw it just as the flashbang exploded.
The grenade exploded, spreading the shrapnel in all directions. His enemies were all expecting him instead of the bomb — a slight miscalculation, and it had cost their lives.
Cain took his pistols and rolled out, quickly aiming at where the enemies had been, there were two of them, both dead.
One was nearly split in half at the torso, his body twisted and mangled, entrails spilling onto the ground. The other was missing most of his upper body, the force of the explosion had ripped through their chest and head, leaving only a jagged, bloody mess. The Shrapnels had torn through their gear and flesh, leaving gaping wounds and splintered bone.
The echo of two simultaneous explosions still rang in his ears, but his earpiece buzzed — slowly bringing him to his senses.
"Cain, Maya..." It was a male voice, he sounded enthusiastic, "Coming through."
"Van!" Cain whispered in an alarming tone, "Please don't." He ran toward the next cover.
"Positions," Van replied, "Silvy got an anti-tank."
Cain sighed, "HQ, center, moving west."
"Barracks, west, moving north," Maya replied, barely whispering.
"Alright Slivy, east is clear," Van shouted, it was as if he had come for a party rather than a mission.
"Roger, deleting east side." Another voice came in, it was similar to Vansis, but more feminine and soft. Cain sighed after hearing this, unconsciously looking east through a window.
He heard a bullet slicing through the air, next moment he knew — the whole buildings on the east side exploded, it was as if a sizeable bomb had exploded in the area. A shockwave spread through the air as the ground beneath him shook.
The debris flew out and dust rose, "That..." He was talking to himself because he knew the people behind the earpiece won't respond"... That is not an anti-tank, that is a fucking bazooka, but with more explosion."
Just as he said that, he heard a motorcycle's noise. He facepalmed and shook his head, "Van..."
He heard an open fire and an explosion, Van had made his entry. And the enemies were hopelessly