Without Pay

Read the entire story and then feel an emotion. That's the only way to read this.

In the dark shadows of a room underground, a youth sat against the wall with his head tilted back as he inhaled slowly from a joint. His hair was matted up, his clothing torn, and he was covered in small amounts of dirt. He hadn't been able to sleep, he was hungry, and he had no money on him at all. He had once been paid a wage, but that soon stopped as the quality of his work changed. He didn't take orders from anyone, he spent most of his time shouting or glaring at people, and he had not seen his parents in a very long time. It had been just as long since he had been in their houses and they obviously were very disappointed in him at the time. He didn't even love them, he never went to his mother's funeral, and his father's name never crossed his mind this year.

The ground shook as another artillery round landed high above, filling the basement with half a handful of dust and possibly dirt. He barely even moved when it happened, just as he barely moved the last hundred or thousand times. He had managed to wash himself with an old helmet and some water, but he found himself just rubbing the dirt off with a rag at times. However his weapon frequently came first when it came to cleaning, as if it wasn't kept clean at all times he was going to become a corpse. The state hadn't been able to pay him anything since the war started, and he just wasn't sure why the enemy had even invaded in the first place. He didn't understand their motivations, they seemed completely illogical and outright evil.

A man about several years older entered, closing the door behind him. He had a flash-light shaped like an “L” hooked to his chest, with the shorter part housing the light-bulb. He sat down beside the younger man and pulled out his own piece of hemp to smoke, it too rolled in cheap paper not suitable for anything really.

“Would you believe me if I told you a year ago, we would be here and you would be my boss?” The other man asked, turning his head to look at his superior officer.

“I would believe anything you told me Vigor, just because I'm fu**ing tired and can barely get any sleep; doesn't mean I'm going to assume that I magically have a grasp on this.” The younger officer stated

Vigor chuckled and looked over at his commanding officer for a few seconds, before staring at light that his electronic-torch gave off. It was hard to adjust his eyes back and forth from the darkness, to the light; which is why he could barely see the outline of his junior.

“It's your 19^th birthday tomorrow right?” Vigor asked “We survived several months of this madness, maybe we might make it long enough to get home. Perhaps you will get to enjoy the privileges of your age finally.”

“I'm more interested in the privileges that I have access to right now.” The youth stated “Besides, I think Seth sounds better chanted then moaned; but I wouldn't know for certain till later.”

“The boys are considering giving you one of the remaining bottles of wine we have, it's an aged white wine I heard.” Vigor revealed “However, nothing of course happens here without your approval and none of us would dare disappoint our General.”

“I'm a soldier, not a nobleman.” Seth retorted “Just ask them if they can make a fair amount of vodka, I don't care if it's weak or it's watered down. I haven't even been yelling at you all for even a year yet and yet you all treat me like I'm fu**ing papa. These wrinkles are not me being old, this is stress and fatigue.”

“So you are pretty twisted up till?” Vigor worried

“Yeah, but I'm more worried about the rest of you then me.” Seth confessed “I'm homesick but very afraid to go home even after the war ends. I don't want to tell her that Rob is dead, she loved him as much as I did if not more. I really hope he wasn't her soul-mate, I wouldn't wish that on anyone but the enemy.”

“Why not the enemy?” Vigor wondered, raising an eyebrow rather high.

“I'm not even sure if they have souls.” Seth answered “Mothers across the nation, hundreds and hundreds of miles from the blast-radius; are aborted their babies rather then have them born as crying, broken messes. They have doomed us to birth-defects and illness for then next 20 years or more, on top of the millions they have torn from us grasp. I want to fu**ing kill something every time I think about them. When I aim at one, my finger clamps down on the trigger and doesn't let go till they have taken enough rounds to kill a giant. When I close my eyes I hear them laughing at us, I see our dead, and that is on top of the constant shelling that invades my every thought.”

“But you are holding up okay, right?” Vigor hoped

“The most comforting thing I have right now is the knowledge that if I fail you all and get to many of you killed, I can always just shoot myself in the face.” Seth lamented “I'm huffing this plant-matter all the time, trying to get myself hungry enough to eat when I can't stop thinking about how my every move can get someone I know killed. I'm to young for this sh**, I'm to young for this responsibility, and I am to young to be having visions like this. I don't deserve the privileges but I deserve all the responsibilities.”

“Just because your parents were to stupid to realize they made something good, doesn't mean that you aren't so.” Vigor insisted “It's not like anything you could have done for us, would prevent any more deaths then what you already did. We're already inflicting very high casualties on the enemy and what few losses we have recently; are mostly due to the luck of the damned. You can't just dodge an artillery shell, when 50 of them land all around you.”

“The pressure remains there, my brain is still a jumbled mess and it's going to be years till it straightens itself out.” Seth assumed “That's if it ever does get itself in order, this war has just been... very hard on me. It's been hard on all of us.”

“But we are winning right?” Vigor retorted “We have them falling back and their logistics aren't able to keep up with their own backward movements. It's only a matter of time till we are on their own soil.”

“Yes, we are going to win.” Seth answered “We haven't done anything to displease our God, he seems to be fond enough of us to show me the way and give me the means. These abilities and visions make me feel like a baby trying to learn to clap.”

“You think you will ever have babies?” Vigor asked

“I have no idea honestly, I might have some.” Seth explained “The future is crystal clear and filled with smoke at the same time, it's just layers of madness. For now I am in no condition to be a parent and I don't exactly have a spouse.”

“Well, I have one back home.” Vigor stated “I joined the military because I wanted status to pass down to her and the kids. I was hoping a little skirmish would get me some land or a title, something that would make them proud.”

“If you stick close to me and you do exactly as I say, I'll get you whatever position is right below mine.” Seth reassured, as he stood up and grabbed his rifle. “I want to be able to relax tomorrow or at least have a few hours to drink, so it's best we push the enemy back a little. Hopefully the other generals will manage to not get themselves killed and will link up with us after this offense is over.”

“Well, fall is almost over.” Vigor remembered “We shouldn't have any problems with ammo, as the farmers will be spending the winter in the factories. Normally offenses are done in the spring, but I doubt the enemy will see us coming.”

“This one will be called the 'Rob Offense.” Seth said “This will be the kind of fighting that would do him proud. This will be the one that will break their back and the offense after will simply pick up the pieces, unless they want to double down.”

Reviews

[Madd-Fictional]

Overall a decent story but I was far more interested his relationship with his parents and wanted to know more of his backstory as to why there was discord between them.

[Tevo77777]

"he had not seen his parents in a very long time. It had been just as long since he had been in their houses and they obviously were very disappointed in him at the time. He didn't even love them, he never went to his mother's funeral, and his father's name never crossed his mind this year."

He never was in their house, he doesn't know their names. He's an orphan. They abandoned him.

The first part of the story is meant to angle him into a bad light, by making it seem like he is weed smoking low life.

When actually he is a man who started with nothing and worked his way to being a general at this point, mainly by not getting killed long enough to replace those above him died.

[McBear]

This was really good, as well as well written. Just one thing, I feel like you talk about him using "he" a little too much

[Tevo77777]

The second half of the story uses almost no pronouns, it's the people's names repeated over and over for the most part.

The first paragraph is supposed to angled in a very negative and limited viewpoint. Giving up the name would shatter that illusion and review the character as who he really is to fast.

The second paragraph slowly feeds the reader less biased information, that allows them to slowly figure out who the protagonist really is.

"Oh, so he's not a loser."

"Oh, he's actually really important."

The first two paraph

[McBear]

Ah, Okay sorry

[Kyle Wynn]

This was very interesting and well written. I really liked how you showed more of the, I guess you could say "down time" in war. From the first paragraph I wasn't expecting the way the story went. I enjoyed reading it.

[Tevo77777]

This story was crafted to be misleading from the start. The idea behind it was when I noticed that the main character of a lot of my writing had bad habits and had a bad upbringing; which from a certain perspective could show up in a very bad light.

Like a deadbeat hobo actually.

[Kyle Wynn]

Ah, I see.