CHAPTER 3 “THE FIRST MISSION”

"Get up, Ghost! You're on your first mission!"

I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the grogginess of my first deep sleep in what felt like weeks. I was still getting used to my new life as a mercenary, and the physical and mental training I had been subjected to had taken a toll on me. But I couldn't show any weakness. Not in front of the Sergeant or my fellow recruits.

I jumped out of my bunk and joined the rest of my squad in the briefing room. There were four of us in total: myself, my friend, a quiet guy named Alex, and a rival named Marcus. Marcus was everything I wasn't - confident, fearless, and ruthless. He had taken to this life like a duck to water, and it was clear that he was the Sergeant's favorite.

The Sergeant handed us each a file with our mission details. Our target was a small village, where we were to eliminate a couple of civilians suspected of harboring rebels. The Sergeant made it clear that this was a test, to see if we had what it takes to kill without hesitation.

I felt a knot form in my stomach as I looked at the photos of the innocent people we were supposed to kill. I couldn't shake the feeling that this was wrong, that there had to be another way. But I couldn't voice my doubts. Not in front of Marcus, who was practically salivating at the prospect of taking out his first kills.

As we geared up and loaded into the helicopter, I tried to focus on the task at hand. I was a weapon, a shadow, a Ghost. I couldn't let my emotions get the better of me. But as we descended towards the village, I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease.

We touched down and the Sergeant led us towards the village. We were barely inside the perimeter when shots rang out. The rebels had been tipped off, and we were under attack. I took cover behind a wall and fired back, trying to keep my head in the game.

It was chaos. Everywhere I looked, people were dying. The rebels were ruthless, and the villagers were caught in the crossfire. I saw children huddled in fear, and women weeping over their fallen husbands. I felt a surge of anger at the senselessness of it all.

As the battle raged on, I saw Marcus in action. He was a killing machine, taking out anyone in his path with ruthless efficiency. I felt a twinge of envy as I watched him, but it was quickly replaced by revulsion as I saw him gun down an innocent woman without a second thought.

I turned to my friend Alex, who was pale and shaking beside me. He was a good guy, with a heart of gold. He didn't belong here, in this war-torn land.

"We can't do this," I shouted over the din of battle. "This is wrong."

Alex nodded, and we made a run for it, dodging bullets and bodies as we tried to find a way out of the village. We stumbled upon a small group of rebels, who had taken a break from fighting to tend to their wounded. They looked up as we approached, their rifles trained on us.

"Please," I said, holding up my hands. "We don't want to fight. We just want to get out of here."

The rebels looked at us warily, and then one of them, a woman, stepped forward.

"Who are you?" she asked.

I stood there, frozen, as I watched my rival gun down the two innocent people without a second thought. I felt sick to my stomach, like I was going to be physically ill. How could someone do something like that so easily? So callously?

My friend, who had been assigned to work with me on the mission, looked just as horrified as I felt. He turned to me, his eyes wide with shock.

"What the hell was that?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

I shook my head, unable to find the words to respond.

Just then, our drill instructor appeared, a cruel smile on his face. "Well, well, well. It looks like we have some work to do with you two," he said, sneering at me and my friend. "You both failed the test. You're weak, soft. You'll never make it as soldiers."

I felt my anger boil inside of me, replacing the sick feeling in my stomach. How dare he call us weak? How dare he suggest we couldn't handle this job? I gritted my teeth, trying to control my temper.

"We'll see about that," I growled.

"Yes, we will," the drill instructor said, his smile turning even crueler. "But for now, you're both coming with me. You have a lot of training to do before you're ready for your next mission."

He turned and started to walk away, and I followed him, with my friend close behind. As we walked, I couldn't shake the image of my rival gunning down those two innocent people, like it was nothing to him. I was filled with a mix of anger and fear, and I felt like I was drowning in a sea of emotions.

As we reached the training camp, I was taken to a private room, where I was strapped to a chair and subjected to more torture. I screamed and cried out, but the pain just continued, until I was nothing more than a broken, shattered shell of a person.

When it was finally over, I was taken back to my room, where I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I was filled with a deep, overwhelming sadness, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was never going to be able to escape this life. I was a Ghost, a shadow, a weapon, with no past and no future.

Days passed, and I continued to undergo training, pushing my body and mind to the brink of exhaustion. I was constantly tested and pushed, but I never gave up. I was determined to become the best soldier I could be, no matter what it took.

And then, one day, I was finally given my next mission. It was a simple one, just a routine reconnaissance operation. But as I set out on my mission, I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched, like someone was following my every move.

I soon realized that my rival was on the same mission, and he was doing everything in his power to make my life a living hell. He sabotaged my equipment, undermined my authority, and constantly questioned my abilities. I was starting to feel like I was going crazy, like I was losing my grip on reality.

And then, in the midst of all the chaos, I finally had a breakthrough. A flash of memory came back to me, a glimpse of the person I used to be before I was taken and turned into a weapon. I remembered my family, my friends, my life before all of this.

I knew that I had to escape, to get as far away from this life as possible.