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Shadows dance over the bodies of the dead. Why am I here? I am merely a boy wishing to be a hero... But I seem to be a death omen. That’s what they all call me. Every man who’s head has been embraced by the cold ground, whose heart weeps dry, crimson tears, who has lost their only meaning of life... Was in my regiment. All of them- Dead. I am here alone. No one else will take me in to fight this dying battle with them... Some even suggested that they should just give me to the Germans – Let them deal with me... But no- forget about me. In their eyes I am already dead. A single shot runs away from my trench now and then- I will carry out my duty. No matter what. Really I think it’s my hearts way of letting them go free too... Nothing, no one deserves to be with me.
I pull the trigger again, feeling my whole body shake as my strength has been eaten away by the barrels’ metallic power. I no longer shoot at people but merely into the air as if it were a flag- daring the Gerry’s to get me. When will the food run out? Why can’t I die now? The sun is rising once more to another day of emptiness, isolation- solitude. My eyes are out of focus- begging me to rest them. But no. I must carry on.
The sky is grey like my surroundings- every colour has abandoned “The Omen” too. Why should I care though- I don’t feel alive. Once I used to be Thanatos... But now I am merely “the Omen...Aaaah!” I know, Thanatos...A weird name –right? But it has been the only thing I have ever had from my parents... You see I am really an orphan... I don’t remember much of being kid... except the beatings...
I would sit in the corner at night finishing a book in silence. I never had a real father – just men my mother would bring home. She was lonely -so any guy would do – except me. She hated me, and my sister. We didn’t have much money so we got the worst rented houses and she’d always blame us for that. One night she brought home this man. He was really drunk. I sat shaking in the corner of my cupboard like room. I had heard him beating my mother and go into my big sisters room. Her name was Jo. She never talked- But I knew what he was doing to her. Abusing her. For the first time I heard her voice scream and quickly fade... no he hadn’t... The door swung open to my room. I didn’t move... I daren’t. I turned to see his bloodied hands. “Thana...tos...” his voice cut the air like a knife. I smashed the window with my first and only hard backed book and jumped through the jaws of the icy beast. Its teeth implanting themselves into my skin. That was the night my world crashed and burnt.
The air around me is thick. I open my eyes and gasp in realisation. Snakes of yellow smoke slither around my body slowly making it down my throat. Do I really mind dying to this gas? But this isn’t any poisonous gas. This is mustard gas. It will slowly kill me from the inside out... Someone heard my gunshot! I scramble down the muddy walls trying to stop them from sucking my hands in. Frantically searching for clear air. Stumbling as I go rushing further away from the snakes hunting for their pray...ME. The yellow mist clears but I carry on running to be extra safe. My eyes sting as if electricity was being pulsated around them. It has already got a hold on me. I collapse onto the floor my lips fishing for air to strenuously reel in. Panting, gasping, shaking. I reach to the icy handle of my pistol. I had heard about the Japanese and their military saying “save the last bullet for yourself” and since i began to survive in solitude began to believe the same.