CHAPTER 2 - WADRICK SOLIRE
"I'm going to kill her! I'm going to kill her! Damned witch! Filthy harlot!"
Walking aimlessly through the streets of his small village, a uniformed man with a backpack on his back shouted furiously with his revolver in hand. The villagers watched this scene in shock. Some hid out of fear, while others simply avoided looking, as if no one were there. Almost everyone knew him and understood the reason for his anger, yet no one dared approach him.
"Poor Wadrick, he's gone mad," whispered a lady to her husband.
"When they don't come back in a coffin, they come back like this," replied the man.
Tears streamed from his eyes, a mixture of anger, sadness, and disappointment. Wadrick returned home so quickly that he didn't even take off his military uniform. When he arrived at what was supposed to be his home, he was surprised to find another family living there.
All the neighbors heard the shouting coming from the house, and the sound of gunshots was also heard.
"My God, is he alive?" was the thought that passed through the minds of the entire neighborhood. Some curious onlookers emerged from their homes to see what had happened.
Their suspicions were confirmed as Wadrick stormed out of the house without looking at anyone. Where was he going? No one knew.
"I thought of you; I only thought of you in that damn trench full of mud, blood, and pieces of people. I could have sought solace with any woman from Platna or prostitutes, but I remained faithful. That's why you didn't respond to my letters; that's why you didn't write to me. That man... THAT MAN! I'm going to kill you and him, and if you had children, I'm going to kill them too. I'll kill them first in front of you, then I'll kill you, and then I'll kill myself."
"From inside the house, the new resident emerged, gasping from the situation he had just experienced. He was met with curious looks from the neighbors. His wife and daughters remained inside the house in a state of shock.
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"For the love of God, Paulos, are you okay? What happened? And your family?"
The man, breathing heavily, calmed the neighbors and recounted what had occurred:
"When I heard the door open, we were just about to sit down for lunch. When I arrived at our door I saw a man who was a combat veteran and was dressed in military garb. He insisted that the house was his, but I refuted this by telling him it couldn't be. He became enraged, began yelling, and looked around the house for something. He took out a pistol just as we started to quarrel. He seemed distressed. I said that Frederick Kruts, who sold the house to us, was responsible. He stormed out of the door after ranting and starting to fire into the air when he heard that name."
"Do you know this man?"
The neighbors exchanged glances; it was the first time they had heard that name.
"I don't know who this man is, but poor guy, this land belonged to his family for generations, along with several other small properties. It seems his wife left him for another man and gave him the deeds to the land."
After chatting with the neighbors a bit more, the man returned to his house, lost in thought about what he had just heard regarding the war veteran. After a few minutes, he put on his coat and hat and went in search of him.
*
In front of the train station, Wadrick stood still, lost in his thoughts. He was determined to carry out his revenge. Nothing else around him mattered.
"According to him, he bought the lands, my lands, from Kruts when he was in Vêrgamo, 2 months after the start of the war. Kruts, you son of a bitch, you were sure I would die, weren't you?"
Wadrick was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't pay much attention to his surroundings. The scene at the train station was reminiscent of the early days of the war, with families bidding farewell to their sons and husbands heading off to the battlefield. The difference this time was the absence of the naive optimism of people who hadn't yet experienced the horrors of war. The no-man's land had reached Lavisquean soil.
From his village to the capital city, it was a four-hour journey. Since the end of the war, Wadrick hadn't rested once, but he didn't seem to care about it, despite the clear signs of his stressed body nearing collapse at any moment.
His village was four hours away from the big metropolis. Wadrick hadn't slept anything since the war ended, but he didn't seem to bother, even though his exhausted body was on the edge of collapsing at any moment.
As Wadrick settled into his seat on the train, he felt a strong shock throughout his body, and his legs began to ache intensely. The anger suddenly disappeared, leaving behind only a haunting sense of apathy in his chest. The train began to move, and Wadrick closed his eyes, reliving all the good and bad moments of his life.
"Maybe I should forget everything... Maybe I should just give up... Give up on all of this."
"I'm so tired... It's all so exhausting..."
Wadrick doubted himself, wondering if he would have the strength to see it through.
"Maybe there's an explanation for all of this," he thought.
"Maybe she was coerced into marrying, maybe they lied that I was dead... There must be an explanation."
"Kruts always liked her, he was always courting her... That's why I convinced her to move here... It must be that, he must have done something."
In his heart, a little flicker of hope flared, allowing his body to relax for the first time. When Wadrick gazed out the train window, he saw an astonishing darkness spreading over the sky; a gigantic storm was on its way. The night-like sky persuaded him to give in to the overwhelming yearning for sleep, and he eventually collapsed from tiredness.