Slinging his baggage onto the minimalist bed frame, Lars Wold yawned involuntarily. The rest of his fellow men who had just arrived at the barracks also carried the same energy. Travelling abroad to support other countries happened often but the flight was particularly long this time, draining everyone at least to some extent; but regardless there were still some who managed to keep high energy.
Before they were required to do their duties, two days were permitted to roam around and ingratiate themselves with the culture. However, the main purpose was to allow some rest after the long trip and to adjust to the new timezone. But a lot of the troops wanted to use this time to play around as if it were a field trip.
Those affected the greatest by the sloggy trip immediately packed up and went to sleep. It was around the afternoon, after all, so they could wake up early the next day and do what they wanted then.
Lars was a part of neither faction; he was far from full of energy and excitement, but not overly affected—he was just feeling grungy. He mostly hated the prospects of falling asleep so soon after spending all his time getting here. A quick look around the town near the barracks felt like a good idea to him.
Additionally, he wanted to see what kind of food they had here. Lars believed any place he could get a decent meal was good enough to call ‘home’.
The reason he had enlisted in the army to begin with was because of his difficult background. Growing up dirt poor in the slums, there was a severe lack of options for work. It was mostly hard labour that would accept someone without an education like him, but they were hesitant to hire someone who was barely an adult when they could instead hire an adult with a much stronger physique.
On the other hand, who else wanted a sixteen year old with no background or family to restrain them more than the military? Lars was admitted into the force quickly after sending in an application. Two years had passed since then, and now he had been instructed to support a country far away from their homeland.
Lars left the base in civilian clothing on his lonesome. He didn’t hate the company of others, but he wasn’t particularly friendly with anyone in his unit. It was to his liking, however, since he preferred autonomy and wanted the space-time to explore freely.
The town was a slight walk away, separating the base from any other buildings for some time. Those who were heading out like him took to calling taxis to get there. It was while he was deliberating on whether to just walk there or not that someone called out to him and invited him to get in theirs. He did as such until they were deep in town, where he separated from the group and went his own way.
I’ll probably walk the distance back…
Lars looked around, immediately noticing the foreign characters on the signs and store fronts. It was the first time seeing this country’s citizens too; they appeared shorter than he was used to, sporting shades of grey, dark grey, and black hair. He noticed that most of them were slim with long limbs and cut facial features.
So this is Tirynn…
I’ve never seen naturally grey hair before.
Lars associated hair turning grey or white with the elderly or disorders with that kind of effect, but he found people of all ages with it now. It was an odd sight to him; however, Lars also had the awareness to realise many stared back at him. His own pale-blonde hair and the other features of his appearance must be novel to them too.
He didn’t want to keep staring at the locals, just as he didn’t want them treating him like a spectacle either. He decided to switch back to his main focus: finding somewhere he could be served.
I hope the translation app will work this time. Lars lamented an incident in the past, where he was forced to communicate through hand signals after they couldn’t understand the translated text. He was forced to pick from the menu at random that day and suffered from it.
He wandered around aimlessly for some time as he selectively looked at various establishments. Preparing for the worst, Lars decided to try out the translation app preemptively by attempting to ask a middle-aged Tirynn man for a place in the area that served good food. But after being unsuccessful, a commotion caught his attention.
Amidst whispers he couldn’t understand because of the language barrier, he located the source. Lars found someone from his unit standing conspicuously at the end of an alleyway. None of the locals were approaching, clearly avoidant of the tall man standing imposingly in military gear.
Lars took notice of this because they were explicitly told not to go out in uniform unless they were on duty. He decided to approach the man from his unit, Troels, to ask what the situation was and why exactly he was armed in public as he was. It was then that Troels noticed Lars walking up to him.
His expression showed alarm before becoming panicked. Troels hurriedly tried to take a step forward, but had reacted too slowly and couldn’t before Lars was already in front of him. A clear view over Troels’ shoulder was presented to Lars.
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What met his sight was another member of his unit. His name was Jansen, who Lars knew was a close friend of Troels. Jansen appeared to be standing over a Tirynn woman whose clothes were slightly in disarray. She had an obvious scowl on her face, full of scorn towards the man holding her inappropriately.
Lars met Jansen in the eyes and then looked back to Troels.
Troels exclaimed, “Lars!”
But Lars didn’t respond, instead demanding an answer, “Explain: what are you doing?”
Feeling overwhelmed with disgust, his usually stoic and unmoving face became visibly displeased. Lars wanted to hear an answer immediately from these men belonging to his unit and it needed to be a very good one. He couldn’t help but take another glance at the service pistol which was wrongly visible on Troels’ hip.
Lars too was armed, but it was carefully stowed away in his jacket and he wore civilian clothing. He was following their orders but they clearly weren’t. From this display alone, Troels and Jansen were already off to a bad start in his eyes.
Troels glanced back at Jansen. His eyes drifted between the girl, who was watching the commotion passively, and Jansen, whose hands had retracted slightly from her. They exchanged a knowing glance before Troels turned towards Lars.
With a broad forehead and huge lips that were trembling, seemingly indecisive about whether he should keep a straight face or smile, Troels spoke slowly at first before gaining confidence.
“Lars, listen. Don’t tell anyone about this. Okay? If you keep silent…”
“...”
Lars didn’t speak, forcing him to continue.
“You can have a go. How about it?”
Lars spared a glance towards Troel. He then looked behind him, meeting the nervous eyes of Jansen, before stopping at the Tirynn woman. She had a murderous look in her eyes but appeared to be waiting for something. It seemed as if everyone was waiting for him to make a decision.
“Troel… Jansen…” As Lars spoke, the noise of the crowd behind him seemed to suddenly phase out. He continued, “Let’s go further into the alley.”
The next few moments and what led to a conclusion became a black spot in Lars’ memory. An irrational sense of calm had overwhelmed him, a sense of clarity he hadn’t felt in the two years since joining the army. When he came to his senses at the end of it, as if waking from a dream, he found his service pistol drawn.
He had executed Troel and Jansen. When he scanned the area, he realised that the Tirynn woman from before had already fled. She’d probably been scared away after the man who looked like her attackers had killed the both of them. Taking the opportunity, she had departed in the chaos of the situation.
Lars glanced again over the lifeless bodies of his comrades. He had seen similar sights many times, not being a stranger to witnessing friends and acquaintances die before his very eyes. He had also killed many men, those with families and those without, but this was the first time executing members of his own unit—much less, in a foreign country, on peaceful ground, in cold blood. He could only let out a long sigh.
A lot had led up to this moment. Born at the bottom of society, he was an orphan from a very young age. He had done just about anything to survive in the harsh slums. After reaching the minimum age, he had enlisted in the army and found stable living. His favourite change was the freedom to eat large meals of many shapes and sizes.
There was never any profound reason to join. Lars simply couldn’t find any patriotism in his soul, wholeheartedly desiring to serve his country or protect the peace. But he did not regret joining the army and experiencing many new things.
An investigation would occur when the two missing soldiers didn’t report back. Eventually, they would find the bodies; probably after Tirynn’s local police force notified the base of the double homicide.
After that, they would realise it was an inside act when the bullets are inspected. When they do a check of everyone’s ammunition, they’ll be able to link the shots fired to his two missing bullets. It wouldn’t be difficult to prove that his service pistol had recently been used.
The thought of fleeing on the spot crossed his mind. But then what? Where would he go, roaming this foreign land as a stranger? Lars struggled to find purpose or meaning in doing so. He had gone from surviving in the rough slums, to surviving on a battlefield.
After living for no other purpose than living, he had grown numb to it all. He killed a man and his next thought involved wishing that his next meal would come sooner. Lars weighed the options available now, then turned around and walked out the alley. He found somewhere to eat his meal and then returned to the base.