His boots touched the rough soil. They clamped with the mud and drudged forward. Soon enough they reached a clearing.
It was late August, the gales in the border of Marlen were bitter and crashed against you like waves of the sea. Yet it didn't feel cold. It felt warm in fact, warmth that engulfed you.
No.
It could never happen to a normal person.
It could only happen to a man who reasoned with the wind to not hide his actions but to carry them forward.
He wanted it to blow to the far, far lands of Aaergale, way farther than the border and send forward the message, the screams and cries of the people who tried to defile his land with their rotten blood.
Blood held such a disgusting color. It was vile. The red consumed you so eternally, it asks of you to keep staring at it, to contemplate how it came to be, where it came from, what was the reason for it.
When it came to blood of the Aaergalians though, it didn't matter. Their blood was lighter, no, it wasn't physically thinner, it was the prospect of the lack of knowledge and in its place, contentment. You never questioned whose blood it was, where it had come from, who had drawn it.
You only applauded its release.
Every ounce of Aaergalian blood that was released, was one step closer to the world's purification. It may never be completely pure as many will still live on, but the screams oh darling. They never forget the screams.
You kill a man and it may scar him. But if you make a man witness the height of human horror, to subject everyone he loves and cares to death, only then shall you completely destroy him.
The sky was distant and cloudless, the winds crashed against them with a bitter cold and the soldiers had not an iota of emotion on their faces and he was smiling through his teeth like a toddler.
"Mind the car, would you? A friend has lent it to me. And though he is a bit....inconsiderate I do not wish to damage what is his." He coaxed one of the men, dangling the keys to the red Pontiac.
Then he stepped forward. Marched.
Every step was a round closer to his destination.
There was a small arch bridge built of stone and cement, it was old, older than Thomas himself. There was a young soldier there who waved his arm brazenly when he saw Thomas.
He smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, "What have you to show me here?" He asked without any tension in his voice.
"Mr. Trivola! There has been a minor mishap here at Gostul crossing....you have visitors."
His eyes widened momentarily before adjusting back to their places, he smile deepened, "Pests. How many have you managed to stop?"
"There were a total of seven sir! One of them has fallen into the river already, the rest stand on the edge as instructed."
"Very well then. You must come with me but do not step too close or touch them."
"Yes sir!"
Thomas walked proudly with both his hands behind his back and reached the middle of the bridge in no time.
The spectacle before made him want to cry out in wonder and amusement, he held himself back by persuasion that the next moments would be even more worthwhile for his joy.
In two lanes on each side of the bridge stood three people respectively, one of them held a child by their palm, all of them were shivering and had become slightly red, all of them were stripped of all clothing and faced the river. Naked in the cold and their eyes to the Katrin river. They couldn't actually see the water of the surface as it was several meters down the fog but they could hear the splashes, the raging waves of the river.
Nature was uncouth, it was absolute. When it gives, it gives bountifully, when it strips, it takes away everything in the most brutally agonizing way possible.
"Good evening! Do not attempt to turn back as it would lead to your immediate deaths but I am sure you are already aware of that." He said gleefully, "What I must inform you, is three things."
He raised his index finger, "The war is not in your favor and fleeing here is a sign of your distrust towards your own country. Treachery, even in such circumstances is utterly unacceptable"
Out came the bombshell second to the index, "You are not welcome here. You will not spread your vile genes here. You will not infect our land."
The last was the ring, round like his eyes that was colder and sharper, more malicious and ruthless than any winter storm could ever be, "Your deaths will not be comforting."
Almost immediately, he sought to put his words in actuality.
He stepped forward without any shred of hesitation or remorse, in fact that was a smile on his face that persisted all the time. It wasn't a fake smile, the way the left side of his face drooped a little, the wrinkles that formed in his well weathered face, he was ecstatic more than anything.
A man crossed his arms and held them to his chest, he was grasping onto something that wasn't really there. When Thomas moved he made no sound, he was barely shuddering too. His eyes were probably closed from what Thomas could tell. He was already used to this, as his eyes were closed and his mouth moved in redundant prayer.
"Do you wish to provide me the last vestige of you? Nature has called for your end, the wind howls and it will carry your names forward to your family...if they are alive that is. Ha...I wish they are not." His C9 had already left its holster and now rested on the man's back.
He was old, and it was visible, like a fossil of human skin with his jagged bones and skin that seemed to seep into his organs. Thomas didn't bother to wonder how his body still remained, as it served no use. They came into the world as a means to kill and destroy no matter where they are born of. Their blood only cares for distinction, trying to mask it behind prayer served no purpose.
Just a murder does not pray to god, neither does a rapist, nor shall an Aaergalian. It is both, if not much worse than either of them.
"Do you have no wish to reply?" He persisted yet the man remained still, "What a merciless god you have."
"You go to hell."
"Is that so?"
He took back his C9, not before cleaning its front with a cloth and letting go of the fabric in the river.
He stepped back, his face still facing the man, and back and back and back—found it.
He clutched his comrade's holster, and snatched the gun. Without further waiting he clocked the gun and rushed forward.
The barrel entered the man's anus, it dug deep as much as it could without pushing him off and it fired.
The gunshot had only been slightly muffled, yet the scream was much louder. The man had hugged his knees to his chest as he fell and the blood was leaking from his insides.
"A pathetic death. Is that what your God asks for you?"
"Woah..Mr. Trivola...that was.."
"Dispose of this gun." His tone was grim and repugnant, "Right this second."
He dropped it to the floor, and it fell with almost no sound. The blood on its barrel began to flow into its internal components.
"Where were we?"
He made quick work of the second boy, only in his words though. The had disheveled brown hair and Thomas was able to see his green eyes this time as when shot in the leg he fell behind and onto the bridge instead of the river.
Just how much did Fate wish to torment these fools? There was an insect on the bridge. It needed to be crushed.
So he crushed it.
He crushed it again and again.
He stepped on his face, again and again. He heard muffled screams, his arms tried to move but he shot them as well, his arms bled out yet he didn't die yet.
Finish the job, Thomas.
"That I will."
His boots made from leather had their first taste of blood in a long time that day, the day his nose broke, face contorted, teeth fell off one by one was disgustingly beautiful.
A spectacle of shame and blood.
There was a tall girl, she had been wearing a transparent blue veil that had been muddied over her face. Just like the others, the rest of her body held not a single piece of cloth. The only different thing about her, was the trail of blood that was flowing from below her waist to her leg and had already dried.
"Appalling." A quick click of his gun and the faint smell of copper faded along with the body that rag dolled to the harsh waters.
He didn't stop in his rampage and moved forward to see another man, a shorter more petite this time. He flinched as soon as he heard Thomas, "Good evening there....how do you wish to die today?" he teased, "By fire? By the wind? By a bullet in your head? Oh isn't it wonderful! People like you who have been denied choice their entire life are being enabled to choose how you meet your ends, isn't Nature cruel yet brilliant in all forms?"
"Y-Yess-sir."
"Right? You think so too don't you?"
His skin was smooth and pearl like, his hair was shaved and only a few strands remained in its wake, "Y-essi-r!"
"Amazing...Despite being an Aaergalian you understand me quite well, don't you?"
"N-No sir!"
The gun crept to his spine, "What was that?"
He shivered, "Sir-I-I cannot understand you! I am-a-an Aaergalian! Y-Yessir!"
"Ha...Ha....HA...AHHAHAHAHHA! OH HOW WONDERFUL!" The lingering warmth left by the gun faded away almost instantly, "You...are a fascinating one. Tell me....between the mother and the child and you...Who shall I let go?"
"S-Sir..."
"Go on.."
"Sir..I-Sir! Sir.."
"Yes...oh?" The air grew slightly warmer and Thomas instantly backed off, a warm trail appeared on the man's leg, it wasn't blood. It smelled horrible.
"S-Sir! Please let me go sir! Please sir! I will do anything!"
"Even if it kills the mother and child?"
"Yes-sir! Kill them sir! KILL THEM! Let me go sir! Let me go!"
"I see. Step back."
Thomas gestured to the soldier present with him and whispered something to his ear which the soldier carried to the man and took him off, he didn't touch the man, even if he wore gloves he was strictly instructed not to, such horrid were the Aaergalians.
"A mother and a child. Do not tell me that the father is dead? Or did he simply abandon both of you?" He scoffed, "Doesn't matter."
He looked at a different gun he had picked up from one of the patrolling soldiers. A drop of blood had ended up on the second gun and he couldn't afford to get even an atom of it on his own body.
"Now...what shall I do for the two of you."
They gave no answer, the boy in the mother's hand began to cry instantly.
"Aww..Have you been scared little one? Worry not your abhorrence shall not be remembered...." He raised the gun in front of him, closing one of his eyes and tilting his head trying to get the perfect shot, "...unfortunate. You have such pretty hair for an Aaergalian."
"The Goddess will haunt you forever." Was the only reply the female voice had made.
"Is that s.....what?" He was petrified, his face was terror stricken, his voice shook, "What...is that accent?"
Soon enough his legs were shaking as well, each step felt like a battle and he kept on fighting until he reached arm's length to the two of them and twisted them around and—
"NO! NO! NO!" The shouts were blood curdling, "YOU FUCKING RETARD!" He was screaming at the soldier behind him who was utterly mortified and confused.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? YOU ARE MORE OF A MAGGOT THAN WHAT IS CONCIEVABLE!"
His voice cracked for the first time the soldier had witnessed in his life, and he was lucky to witness anything in life after that point as Thomas rushed to him and shot him in both of his feet.
Molten lead had made its cave inside the bones of his foot and he fell back, scrapping, yelping, crying, dragging, punching the ground to get the agony to stop. The fire in his body got more and more. He tried to run but his legs couldn't move anymore.
"Madame! Come with us!" He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her downward, he took off his coat and covered the naked woman with it.
But when he had reached for the child it was already too late.
Shivering and crying out, the boy's legs had given up and he had fallen. If only he had falled backwards, if only he had fallen how he was supposed to, on the bridge instead of the pathetic Aaergalian who had taken the opportunity instead.
There was no time.
The water was cold.
The boy was crying.
He cried.
And cried.
His voice muffled.
Drenched into the river.
And so did Thomas as he plunged into the river and swam to catch the boy being taken by the current.
It was cold. So cold. The tremor was felt in his bones, his teeth jittered, his tongue had seized to move, his body was growing limp yet he had to move. The vitality he had just a second ago drained from him, his cheeks gone pale and his skin completely white.
He had to move.
He swam as fast as he could, moving felt impossible yet he had to act as quickly as he could.
To save the life he had falsely accused.