War is Hell (Jeremiah)

The clapping resounded. That was my girl, and her own woman all her own. Alex had nailed the speech.

We were shuffled onto the stage one after another. One diploma then the next, an assembly line of pride and first achievement.

Eighteen years for this. This was the piece of paper that acted as a fast pass onto the walks of life.

It was all kind of anticlimactic, was what I was thinking as I waited for the dean of the school to hand me my own.

Blake went before me, alphabetical line and all, but I was more than happy just to see that he was actually okay.

[You have fallen under the effects of the Soothe spell.]

A part of me was beginning to think this whole thing hallucination thing might've just been stress.

Yeah, maybe.

I wasn't all that sentimental of a person, then again, when I finally reached the front and I looked out to the crowd. Well, seeing my mom and grandpa out there was more than an emotional moment.

Something about the whole thing just made me realize that I was lucky to have them there.

[Possession counter reduced to 85%.]

Maybe in some other twisted, alternative reality they might not have been.

[Possession counter reduced to 80%.]

Damn, that was a dark thought.

I smiled and thanked the dean, before I could hold up the line.

Just like that, my moment was over and it was on to the next guy or gal's.

Still, I did some feel some satisfaction. And, mostly, I couldn't get over just being glad my family was here--even if grandma hadn't been able to make it on account of some business with the company.

I met them at the bottom of the stage. Mom was the first to embrace me, not letting herself be shown up on this day.

Alex came next and, with the ceremony and her big speech as Valedictorian over, she finally gave me that kiss I'd been waiting for, though it was little more than a peck--as to not make a scene in public.

My grandfather surprised me by pulling me into a strong, masculine embrace. He wasn't all that much of a hugger.

"I'm proud of you, son," he said. "For everything."

"Hope I'm not interrupting, pal!" Blake made himself known and swept me into an equally as rare hug.

We'd been inseparable since we were kids. I guess he was owed at least one.

He'd brought someone else along with him too though.

Dressed in the blues of the Fleet Command, he came to me and held his palm out. I took it proudly.

"I've already congratulated Blake here," he said. "I just wanted to say good job on your big day and the win last Friday night."

"Thank you, sergeant," I said; he didn't have to put on a show anymore, I'd already signed the dotted line and me and Blake both would be out of our small town before next week was over--I guess he just genuinely liked us.

But, as I stared at his square jaw, his face began to change. To warp and grow bloody.

"You're fucking up, Jeremiah. Come the fuck on, corporeal," the second, older Blake that was now beginning to take over the sergeant's face said. "Get your damn head on straight. You just gonna forget how this turns out, or you gonna let this fucking dream change that too?

"What are you--" I tried to pull back from the recruiter's hand, but I couldn't.

Blake's angry, zombified eyes just looked right into my soul. "I didn't die for you to go like this, brother. You're going to fucking remember even if it kills me again."

"Let go!" I screamed and pulled back. "Blake, what the hell is going on?"

"What? Are you okay?" the 'real' Blake said from beside me.

"Babe?" Alex asked with a raising voice of concern.

"Son, is something happening right now?" my grandfather put his hand on my shoulder.

"Honey..." my mother took a step towards me.

But my eyes remained locked on the now dead man, in the service blues, standing right in front me.

"You're better than this, Jeremiah," the different Blake said.

Some of the rage in the shredded face faded.

"I'm sorry for what I'm about to do," he apologized. "I'm really just you, so I know this is going to hurt."

His face started to double and then triple. Reality started to shatter. Time, sounds, words. None of it was right.

One minute I was in the high school auditorium and the next...

My shoulder was being dug into by a log. I could see the recruit in front of me and I shuffle-ran to avoid either slowing down or stepping on his feet.

"Come on, brother," Blake said in a familiar voice from behind me, but it was the younger and not the dead one. "Not much further."

"They haven't told us how far we're going," I said back; I had no desire to quit, but Blake also had no way of knowing the distance we were going.

"Yep," he said, "that's why it's not much further."

"They can't just kill us," someone called out from behind Blake.

"I don't know," I replied. "Kinda agreed they could when we raised our right hands."

"Not in training, asshole," Blake quipped back.

"Be too expensive," I agreed.

"When you get so cynical, boy scout?" Blake asked.

It was a good question.

Where had that come from? Something told me I should've been a lot more chipper right now. That this version of me, in my own personal timeline, was a lot happier of a person.

Wait. Timeline?

[Possession counter decreased to 40%.]

Oh, fuck, it was starting to come back to me. This was just a memory wasn't it?

"Now you're getting it, soldier," the voice behind me changed and I almost dropped the log, when I saw that Blake's face was back to being the more horrifying of the two.

"What the fuck," I said.

"We're not done yet, my man," he said. "I'm not letting this thing spin you any more tales to rope you into being all happy and drugged up in your own head. That ain't you."

"Let's go," he said, before I could reply. "It's trying to keep me from getting you where you need to be. But you're remembering now so I should be able to hack it."

Reality changed again.

"Shit went the way it did, for better or for worse," the voice echoed as the world changed.

I was back home.

Alex was screaming. Why was she screaming?

The tv played in the background. I heard it then: the news report. A planet in the outer ring had been all but wiped of life. Rebellion had broken out.

Oh, yeah, I remembered: she was mad about the war.

Before long, as the timeline shifted some more, we were holding each other close. She was sobbing into my arms.

The conversation was blurry and a little non-linear, like something was fighting to keep me from hearing it, but I got the gist eventually.

She was leaving. She couldn't just see me off to die.

I looked over her shoulder as the words sank in. There was Blake again, standing like the gaunt of a watchful revenant he was.

"Yeah, buddy, she left and we deployed to a pointless war," he said. "Sorry, I was afraid you were gonna get stuck in a newlywed fantasy next."

"But it doesn't really get much better from here," he said. "Not for a while."

Again we moved forward across my personal history.

Smoke. Fire. A shout.

I knew I wanted to scream for a medic, but he'd gone up in the blast too--I remembered that now.

I rushed to Blake. I all but threw my rifle to the side.

"It's going to be okay, pal," I said.

I realized it then. This was the Blake I had been seeing all along. The version of him that had died in my arms.

I pulled the tourniquet from my battle belt. Only to quickly realize, to my horror, that my best friend didn't really have enough of either leg left to apply it to.

His eyes were dimming.

Mine were running.

I tried to steep the bright red bleeding with my hands, but it just... wouldn't... stop.

He shuddered and it was then that I heard his last words.

"I love you, brother," he said.

He grew still.

"Blake," I said.

"Blake," I repeated.

Shells continued to land all around us.

I just continued to sob over my only real friend's chest.

The battle raged.

My heart broke.

I should've kept moving, but I couldn't will my legs to leave him.

It didn't take long for the next shell to hit and for my world to go bright.

I didn't know how much time passed before I'd woken up. I think I vaguely remembered an airlift and a med crew ferrying me into the upper atmosphere. Still not sure about that one though.

The first solid memory I had was opening my eyes to a familiar face.

"Alex," I tried to say, but it only came out as a gurgle before I started to choke violently.

Her hands found my chest. "Calm, down, baby, it's okay."

My eyes searched in panic over my body. I could see the long tube that was pushed into my throat, but the rest was covered by a grey sheet.

I met my former lover's gaze in fear and in a desperate search for an answer.

"It's okay, I promise," she said and leaned closer. "Please calm down."

I couldn't.

Toes. I felt them. Calves, they were sore--so they still worked. Knees, check. I could slightly adjust my torso, so I wasn't paralyzed there either. I didn't feel any gaping intestinal wounds.

My right arm was fine. I could feel the fingers moving.

My right arm. Of the two, I could only feel my right arm.

I felt horror overtake me and I tried to fight my way off the table.

Straps held me down. I started to make any noise I could to get Alex's attention. I was practically screaming through the tube.

"Jere, please," she begged as she stood back and away.

My heartrate was spiking. I could hear the beeping.

"Get help," I heard Alex say to someone standing behind her.

Where the fuck was Blake?

[Possession counter decreased to 20%.]

I saw the nurses enter the room.

[Possession counter decreased to 10%.]

Then it all went numb as I felt something all but violently rip me from the memory.