Hole in the Head

**KABOOM!**

The impact of raining canons, guns and missiles tore down what was once a peaceful and serene atmosphere. Crimson flashes of lights adorned the surroundings of the now decimated home; it was as if the Vigoorian Assault Soldiers were ordered a total genocide for a whole nation. Only that, they were focusing fire on a 40 square meter house, once guarded by cherry blossom trees!

**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**

The frequency and loudness of one explosion followed the next with an increasing intensity of several extra 'oomphs' almost like it was coming straight from a Michael Bay movie. Well, almost. The thick helmets and armors of the hundred soldiers were vibrating as they unloaded everything they've got, causing an earthquake beneath their feet; the epicenter just several meters away.

"Die, die, die!....Dieeee!" one of the soldiers got carried away as he marched forward a few steps with guns' A' blazin'. He stopped on his tracks when his commanding officer roared.

"CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE!" the commander, with his cigar in between his teeth as he shouted. He skillfully moved his cigar around his mouth so that he could do another puff. He inhaled deeply and sighed once he heard more sounds of disappointment.

**PEW! PEW! PEW!PEW!**

The one soldier involuntarily fired four more shots as his fingers were still going at it, twitching. PEW PEW PEW PEW! He did.

"SOLDIER NUMBER SIXTY NINE, GOD DAMNIT, AT EASE, NOW!" the commander's voice of authority sent pulsating shock waves throughout the now barren wasteland. His cigar flung into the air due to the impact of his speech. But he mechanically pulled another one from his pocket, put it in his enormous moth and and then lit it up, without looking away from 069.

The poor soldier threw down his firearm while his fingers went numb due to the 10 minutes of continuous fire and recoil. His extremities were getting numb as Commander Bob ushered him to his front, like a master calling out to his lapdog. The guy hurriedly marched, fumbling towards the commander.

"STATE YOUR NAME AND RANK, SOLDIER!" the commander's masculine gaze penetrated through the tinted helmet of his squaddie. The soldier's bulk frame looked like a wet dog with its tail in between its legs while in front of the towering giant - Commander Bob; he was a bulky man in his late forties, with a large tummy and oversized moustache to boot.

The soldier's hands were shaking as he removed his helmet to answer. "P-p-private J-J-J…b-b-b-Beaver, Vigoorian soldier rank oh sixty niner, sir!" his handsome blue eyes were trying to focus on the opposite side of the warzone that was now filled with smoke and debris. More sweat came out from his already pungent undergarments.

Commander Bob blinked twice, staring at the darkened sky. "SIXTY NINE, EH?!' he was now chewing on his lit tobacco. TSSSSS. He then swallowed it nonchalantly as he cocked his head to meet with the soldier's line of sight. Like a curious child, Commander Bob studied the gentle face of his soldier.

*GULP*. "S-SIR.. Y-YES SIR!" he shrieked as he was losing the battle of wills. He wanted to die right there and then as his dry mouth made it difficult to speak and breathe.

In Arnold Schwarzenegger's voice "SOLDIER NUMBER OH SEVEN THREE, REPORT IN, NAAAAOW!!" the uber manly voice of Commander Bob seemingly lifted everybody's ass in motion; the frail soldier in question hurriedly tiptoed towards the direction of the flamboyant and familiar voice.

The poor soldier 073 was in his late thirties and was still living with his mum; he was then ordered to remove his helmet and he did so in a heartbeat. It was evident that he was wearing one of those spiked 'chokers' that is usually seen in bondage pornography. He seemed to be not so well as he had droopy eyes and a not so healthy looking jaundiced skin. His yellow eyes then widened as nothing could've prepared him for what happened next.

**BANG!**

Without batting an eye, Commander Bob's revolver shot a bullet through the head of the unsuspecting man, spilling his brains out.

"Whaa---?" soldier 069 gasped and tried not to scream as he pursed his lips. He bit himself so hard until he bled, and yet he couldn't bear to look away from the bleak sky.

As a fountain of blood emerged from the now hollow head of soldier 073, his body slowly dropped to the ground with a thud; the pool of blood crept towards the boots of the other soldiers within a feet away.

Soiled with gray matter, dark red fluids and tissues, the front line soldiers were like statues that didn't move a muscle. One of 073's loose eye and a part of his face was even caught impaled at the tip of one of the soldiers' rifle bayonet.

After blowing on his revolver and then putting it back, Commander Bob spoke, "PRIVATE J. BEAVER! HENCEFORTH, YOU ARE NOW TO BE CALLED SOLDIER OH SEVEN THREE – BABY BABY BEAVER!" he snorted, and then squinted his eyes before continuing, "DO YOU KNOW WHY, OH SEVEN THREE?"

Still recovering from the cold blooded murder that happened directly in front of him, the new soldier 073 spoke in a low voice "S-Sir, why, s-s-ir?!" he was almost about to soil his pants.

Commander Bob held up his hand near his face, extending his four fingers while his thumb was in the middle of his palm. "YOU ARE STILL SIXTY NINE, BUT WITH MY FOUR FINGERS INSIDE YOUR ASSHOLE!" he smirked as he gestured his fingers upwards while wiggling them maliciously. "SEE YOU IN MY OFFICE DURING DAYS OF THE WEEK WITH THE LETTER "A" IN THEM"

"B-but sir, that means…" the new 073 trailed off as he came to a realization.

"EVERY-GOD-DAMN-DAY! BWAHAHAHAH" the laughter of Commander Bob echoed as the smoke lifted due to the harsh winds blowing. Then, leaning down at B.B. Beaver, the Commander inhaled deeply and then blew smoke onto the poor soldier's young face. The new 073 held his breath.

"CONTACT HIS NEXT OF KIN ON OUR RETURN TO BASE," as he pointed towards the corpse. "BOYS! CARRY ON!" he commanded.

It was now time to investigate the remains of what used to be a home guarded by cherry blossom trees.

Commander Bob once again lit another Cigar, and immediately puffed a couple of breaths in a few moments. He then marched forward, his belly bouncing with each stride, and then stepped on the dead corpse of the original 073, like he was just stepping on a pile of meat. The stiff bodies of the soldiers gave way like an ocean as if Commander Bob was Moses.

The remaining 99 Vigoorian Assault Soldiers marched forward, tailing their leader; the lifeless body on the ground endured a stampede of steel boots that were only focused in the mission at hand.

As the smell of gunpowder and burning wood dispersed into the air, lightning started piercing through the black sky; rolls of thunder emanated from the heaven's as if what transpired sparked God's holy wrath.

Oblivious, the masculine Commander issued his command. "MEN, SEARCH THE RUBBLES. IN THE UNLIKELYHOOD OF SURVIVORS, KILL THEM. I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK IF THEY'RE PULVERIZED OR ANYTHING, JUST GRAB SOME EVIDENCE THAT OUR TWO TARGETS HAVE BEEN ACCOUNTED FOR. HURRY NOW, AS I'VE GOT A LOT OF PLANS WITH MY NEW 'TOY'…" new 073's heart jumped as Commander Bob looked at him from the corner of his eye; 073's mind was about to snap, and at the same time he was so frightened of doing anything else apart from the commands from above.

"Found them!" number 077 exclaimed. The chilling air started blowing towards the soldiers.

Underneath the rubble, there lay two bodies on top of each other; they were seemingly joined together by some kind of invisible force – and though the location has been bombarded like there was no tomorrow, it looks as if the bodies were alive and unscathed.

A bolt of lightning flashed and spread an eerie glow towards the soldiers' faces; "EXAMINE!" exclaimed commander Bob, with arms across his chest. One soldier went down on his knees as the others stood by in full attention, readying their weapons and aiming for the prize.

Soldier 077 now cleared most of the debris using only his two hands and he was thunderstruck by what he saw. From his kneeling position, he looked back at his commander as if he wanted to say something so unbelievable.

"WELL?" Commander Bob was stomping his foot; he wasn't the type who had the virtue called patience.

"Sir? You probably have to see this for yourself, sir.." the dumbfounded soldier 077 replied.