CLACK!
The lone soldier, smart enough to duck instead of returning fire, scrambled into the corner of the hallway.
All he could do was watch his comrades fall one after another.
When the barrage of gunfire finally stopped, he found himself frozen in place.
"I-I-I..." he stuttered, gulping as he stared at the bodies of his entire unit.
His trembling eyes shifted toward the broken window.
Their comrade was still pinned against the window grille, the rope digging deeper into his neck.
Even in the darkness, the moon shone brightly enough for him to see the rope cutting into the man's flesh, blood slowly seeping from the wound.
As if that weren't horrifying enough...
The man's body was riddled with bullet holes—most of them from his own comrades' gunfire.
He should've traded places earlier when a comrade asked if he should go with the others; he thought. If he had agreed… he wouldn't be here.
"I... I need to move," he muttered, trying to convince himself.
