The cry of a single raven broke the silence of the night. The light of the moon threw nightmarish shadows, one of them being close to a human shape. For a few seconds the shadow laid on the wet grass of a park, then he began to move towards an old Victorian estate. As the raven cried a second time, the head of the shadow turned around and finally light fell onto the face of the man the shadow was belonging to. It was the face of an old man who had already seen too much in his life, but his eyes still radiated power and a strong will.
After some more seconds he came to the great wooden door and took out a pack of picklocks. He tried the first one, but it didn't fit. A silent curse escaped from his mouth. Hectically he took out the next one and almost dropped it.
'Stay calm' he told himself. 'There is no need to rush.'
Finally he managed to open the lock. He slowly moved the door. With a long and painful scream it swung open. He was there. Just one last step to go...

The sun went down beyond the horizon and painted the landscape in blood red. Blood! As if he hadn't seen enough of that the last months.
His glance wandered around on the battlefield. Finally it was over. After three month, silence came back into the vale for the first time. But it wasn't a peaceful silence. It was frightening.
He shuddered and was about to go back the way he came from, but he had to walk to the other side of the valley.
The smell of death normally would have been hardly endurable, but he got used to it over time. This, however, didn't apply for the sight presented to him. Dead soldiers of both sides were lying next to each other, looking at him with empty, vacant eyes, still clutching their weapons in death. He began to shiver even more. Involuntarily his hand raised towards a pocket of his vest and opened it. His fingers fumbled around until he found...

The sun went down beyond the horizon and painted the landscape in blood red. Blood! As if he hadn't seen enough of that the last months.
His glance wandered around on the battlefield. Finally it was over. After three month, silence came back into the vale for the first time. But it wasn't a peaceful silence. It was frightening.
He shuddered and was about to go back the way he came from, but he had to walk to the other side of the valley.
The smell of death normally would have been hardly endurable, but he got used to it over time. This, however, didn't apply for the sight presented to him. Dead soldiers of both sides were lying next to each other, looking at him with empty, vacant eyes, still clutching their weapons in death. He began to shiver even more. Involuntarily his hand raised towards a pocket of his vest and opened it. His fingers fumbled around until he found his knife. He was going to need it to salvage important supplies from the dead. As he moved towards the first corpse, he noticed in the cold fingertips of the dead soldier a small, torn and bloodstained photo.


"Jooohhhnnn....Jooohhhnn....." a soft purring voice teased.
"mmmm...mphfwat?" groaned John his face burried in his pillow.
"Gooood morning" the voice giggled.
"Mornin..." replied John.
"What was that? Oh come on...you sloth. Where's your enthusiasm?" the voice teased again.
"Mmmmmmornin Kay..." slurred John.
"That's a bit be-"
In an instant, John reared up and wrapped his arms around Kay with the bed covers still under his arms as the couple tumbled over the side of the bed.
"Oowahaa~" cried Kay in surprise.
"Gotcha! Now we're even. Thats for waking me up!" John wide awake.
From beneath the covers Kay replied, "Tha's not fair hun. It's 10 in the morning and you should've been up an hour ago!"
"Well it's a Saturday so its still counted Kayla" said John as he began pulling the bed covers away.
The covers fell away. A pale face with eyes sunk deep in the skull stared back at John.


"Sir! I think that's it. This one's the only one that showed up on infrared. Looks like we'll have an early night?"
John jerked up from the place he was lying. The surroundings was solid and bumping around. Apparently I must have blacked out due to exhaustion he thought. But on top of that, I'm not in the field anymore.
He was sitting in the back of a bumpy kahki jeep ride and there was a driver and occupant at the front. By now, the sun had already gone and the moon was high so it was difficult to tell what the surrounding terrain was like in the pale light.
John began to climb to his feet before being jerked back to his seat by a metal band around his left wrist. Handcuffed he though. Considering his current situation, he could only wait. It was too dark and John was too tired to try to pick the cuffs off.
As the bumpy ride pulled into the night, John once again faded into the darkness of his dreams.


"Honey? I'm home! 'S dinner ready?" John had just got back from work and had just entered the house.
Clack. Bang.
"Honey? What was that?"
Thud, thud. A soft whimper echoed from what seemed to be past the kitchen.
The front door closed behind him and a sense of worry started throbbing in his nerves as he caughtiously walked towards the kitchen.
The dark corridor seemed like a tunnel with the light flooding from the kitchen in his imagination pretended to be the train storming in.
"Mikayla?" he called out.
No reply. Something was definately wrong. With a surge of panic John hurried into the kitchen.
Red. There was red liquid on the floor. Red blood. Mikayla's blood.
Fear and adrenaline coursed through John's chilled blood. "No" he whispered. "Victor..."
"VICTOR!" he screamed. Anger began pulsing through him as he ran for the open basement door. The handle was smeared with more of Mikayla's blood.
"Jooohhn!" A tone of pain trembled out of the cellar doorway.
"I'm coming Kay!" John leapt down the whole flight of stairs without a thought and landed harshly against the cold concrete.
"The baby's coming! Please! Aughhhh!" Mikayla cried.
John reached Mikayla sprawled out on the cold concrete and cradled her in his arms. "Hold on dear, i'll call the paramedics" a sense of confusion began to well up in John's throat. How did this happen? The floor was wet with water.
"Hold it right there" came a sinister low voice from behind John.


"Ey yo, wake up dude. Stop screaming. You alright? Wait, we found you like one of those hundred corpses out there...o' course not."
"mblbuwat?" bright light silhouetted a dark face leaning over John.
"Welcome to the world. The wars over and you're not dead. Me name's Will. And if you've forgotten your name, here's your dogtag."
Will leaned back and the contents of John's location light revealed a run down grey room with a number of chairs occupied by soldiers all of whom were injured and wrapped up.
John lay on a bed at the far end corner of the room and no one in the room, despite the numbers were paying any attention to Will and him.
"Now I'd like to get to know you better. Maybe it ease your pain right now cos you look a mess. Maybe you don't mind sharing with me what happened in your dreams?"
"Mmmwell isn't this uhhm..." a raspy dry voice croaked from his throat.
"Oh never mind, i was only kidding. I'm surprised to hev found you out there in the sea of the last battle. Must have been real hard been the last man standing. Any guy would konck out in a place like that."
"mm..." darkness seemed to creep in from the outer sides of his vision.
"You know i think you're the only one in this room that understands what im talking about."
Will's voice faded as the blackness consumed him and he once again fell into a deep dream.


"What did you do to her?!" John gritted through his teeth.
"Ehehehehe..." Victor softly cackled.
"Speak up ya bastard!" He pushed Victor with his forearm harder against the brick wall.
"It's terribly dark here isn't it? Ooph, you don't have to hold so tightly."
"Where is Mikayla?"
"Now now we don't need to be hasty do we? Everything will be just fine?"
"WHERE is she?!"
"Ouuuuh...i dunno...maybe she's sleeping, you know it's very late."
"Where did you leave here?"
"I said she was sleeping. Isn't that enough?"
"No...no...NO!"
"OKAY FINE! She's somewhere in the North HadleBen." Victor grinned synically.
"Oh my f***ing g-...f*** no. YOU f***ing BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL F-"


"OY WAKE THE f*** UP!"
John woke up to William violently shaking him by the shoulders.
"uUhmbwaah. Oh whaa-" blabbered John.
"The first sign of life in you since your coma a month ago and you come swearing into the world! Well at least you're awake now John."
"Worse...where am I?" he croaked.
"What?"
"My wife..." John breathed.
"What what your wife? What are you talking about? I think you need to lie down. You just got out of a coma."
"I would rather not talk about it...please..."
"Huh? Tch. Coma's...really mess with your heads huh. Comas..."
"Why did i fight in this war?"
"Hmm?"
"Because of him." John grimaced.
"What are you talking about?"
"Hey, can you do me a favor?"
"Erh?"
John looked to the machine that he now noticed as his life support.
"Kill it."
"Kill what? I think you should stop talking while i go get some help for you." William turned to leave.
"Wait, don't go." John reached out and grabbed William's hand.
"The story of my life is not worth living for now. I should be a dead soldier, as dead as my past. Please end my life."
"Look here brother, we're not killin nobody. You got that? Now let me go. Don't you do anything stupid." William shook his hand of and walked out of the room.
There it was. An inch closer to freedom.
John reached out his hand and pulled.

An eerie monotone played down the echoing faded hallway as the last casualty of war took place.

- Divisor
- Magnamancy
- dubbleD
- Ramond
- Alectric
- Phil
- Reaper
- .....