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Shell Shock
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It was well passed sunset when I awoke. Chills and aches assaulted my body as I roused myself from my forced shut down. It was a miracle I was even alive considering my wounds. My vision swam and wavered as I sat up. Each breath was labored but they were not my last. As I gathered my surroundings, I realized I was in a dimly lit room, the feeble light casting long shadows across the walls. The air felt heavy and stale, as if I had been confined in this place for some time. My memory was a fragmented puzzle, the pieces slowly falling into place. I had been in a desperate struggle, a battle that had left me battered and broken.

I gingerly touched the bandages that wrapped around my body, wincing at the sharp twinge of pain. The wounds were deep, evidence of a fierce confrontation that had pushed me to my limits. I knew I had to get out of this place, but my body was protesting every movement.

Summoning all the strength I could muster, I swung my legs over the side of the makeshift bed, my feet meeting the cold, hard floor. My head spun as I stood up, leaning heavily on the nearby table for support. My surroundings slowly came into focus – a small, dimly furnished room with minimal decor, giving off an abandoned and eerie vibe.

My leg was barely functional, but at least it was still there. Each step sent waves of electric pain to my brain but now was not the time to falter. Steadying myself against the table, I took a deep breath, my labored breathing a testament to the effort it took to overcome the pain and regain some semblance of control. The room seemed to sway slightly, but I forced my legs to cooperate, one shaky step at a time. My goal was clear – I needed to find answers and escape this eerie place.

Pushing through the discomfort, I finally made my way out of the room and into the corridor beyond. The sight that met my eyes was both horrifying and bewildering. In the dim light, the living room was a gruesome tableau of carnage. Lifeless bodies were strewn across the floor, their limbs contorted at unnatural angles, their faces frozen in expressions of terror and agony. The scene was a chilling reminder of the brutal violence that had occurred here.

Bloodied tracks marked the path of the assailant, leading me to the grim realization that a powerful and savage creature had been responsible for this massacre. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to make sense of the horror before me. What had happened? Why had I survived when so many others hadn't?

Taking a closer look, I could see these where all allied men from what appeared to be my battalion. I tried to slow my breathing and creep toward the closest corpse. A young man, no older than my current body, stared silently into the distance. The look of shock and bewilderment fresh on his features. I knelt beside the fallen soldier, my fingers trembling as I reached out to gently close his vacant eyes. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on me – these were my comrades, my fellow soldiers, and they had met a gruesome fate. Questions raced through my mind, each one more urgent than the last. What had attacked us? How had I survived? And why?

As I continued to survey the scene, my eyes were drawn to the markings on the walls – deep gouges and scratches that seemed to tell a story of ferocious struggle. It was clear that whatever had attacked us was no ordinary creature; its power and brutality were beyond comprehension. My heart ached for the fallen, and a deep rage burned within me, fueled by the injustice of their deaths.

Despite the pain in my body, a determination surged within me. I couldn't allow their deaths to be in vain. I had to find answers and, if possible, bring justice to those who had been lost. Clenching my jaw against the pain, I forced myself to my feet, using the walls for support as I made my way through the devastated room.

With my slow and methodical examination of the battle ground, glimmers from reflected moonlight caught my eye. Shards of glass below a broken window. In my shock at seeing the bodies I failed to notice it at first. I slinked out of sight and came closer to examine the scene.

Cautiously approaching the broken window, I surveyed the area outside. The moonlight revealed shattered glass and the body of another man. It seemed that whatever had attacked had also made its escape through here. I could see droplets of blood mingled with the shattered glass, a trail that beckoned me to follow.

I withdrew back into the darkness of the building before an enemy or whatever did this could spot me. But, as I did so, the sight of a black viscous substance stopped me. So black it seemed to absorb the moonlight around it.

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My heart raced as I stared at the ominous black substance near the broken window. It stood out in stark contrast to the pale moonlight, exuding an unsettling aura that sent shivers down my spine. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, and its very presence seemed to whisper of otherworldly forces at play.

Instinctively, I reached for a piece of cloth on the floor nearby and cautiously used it to touch the mysterious substance. The texture was cold and slimy, and a sense of unease washed over me. I quickly withdrew, my mind racing with questions. What was this substance? Was it connected to the creature that had attacked us? And if so, what kind of creature could produce something so bizarre?

I crouched and ripped an Enfield from one of my fall brethren. Whatever did this couldn’t be too far away. The blood was still fresh in the air, only barely having the time to clot. I examined my new acquisition and inspected the chamber before rapidly unloading it. The previous owner only managed to shoot two times before his liver was forcefully evicted.

I reloaded the weapon and topped it off. I was not about to be caught unprepared around this thing. Not to mention the still very active battle going on. Wait… the battle… I hadn’t heard a single gunshot since I woke up. Hopefully that meant that we won. Though I was not about to take chances.

After scouring all the bodies, I had a healthy number of supplies. Three grenades, over sixty bullets, two bayonets and a revolver from a fallen sergeant. I wrapped a cloth around the first bayonet and affixed it to my long gun. I did not need it to reflect any light and alert the enemy to my position. The second bayonet went into my brand-new holster along with the Webley Mk VI revolver.

As I huddled in the shadows, my senses on high alert, I carefully considered my next moves. The darkness seemed to press in around me, and the weight of the situation settled heavily on my shoulders. The city streets outside remained eerily silent.

Using the fallen furniture and debris, I began to fortify my position. I dragged a heavy wooden cabinet to block the entrance, creating a makeshift barricade that would slow down anyone or anything trying to enter. With practiced efficiency, I set up a series of crude tripwires near the windows, using shards of glass and stray wire I found in the room. These would serve as makeshift alarms, giving me precious seconds to react if anyone or anything approached.

As I worked, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. The black substance I had discovered still gnawed at the edges of my mind, a chilling reminder of the malevolent force that had caused this devastation. I kept my senses sharp, every creak of the floorboards or whisper of the wind outside causing me to tense.

During my vigil, my injuries did not let themselves be forgotten. The room was dimly lit by the feeble moonlight filtering through the shattered windows. Shadows danced on the walls, and every flicker seemed to play tricks on my exhausted mind. I took a deep breath, my labored exhalations a stark contrast to the stillness that surrounded me. I had to stay focused, stay alert – my life depended on it.

The passage of time was difficult to gauge in the oppressive darkness, but it felt like hours had passed since I began fortifying my position. The adrenaline that had initially fueled me began to wane, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness. Despite the pain and exhaustion, I couldn't afford to rest just yet. The creature – or whatever it was – could return at any moment.

As I meticulously worked to create a defensible space, a flicker of movement caught my eye. My heart skipped a beat as I instinctively raised my Enfield, my body tensed and ready to face whatever threat might be approaching. But the source of the movement was far from what I had expected.

A rat, its fur matted and dirty, scurried across the floor. It seemed out of place in the midst of the carnage and chaos, a small creature navigating a world that had been shattered by violence. For a moment, our gazes met, and I couldn't help but feel a strange kinship with the rodent. We were both survivors, both trying to navigate a world that had been turned upside down.

Lowering my weapon, I watched as the rat disappeared into the shadows, a fleeting reminder of the resilience of life in the face of destruction. It was a small, almost insignificant moment, but it served as a stark contrast to the horrors that had unfolded. It reminded me that even in the darkest of times, there was still a glimmer of hope – a reminder that I was not alone in this battle.

With the makeshift fortifications in place and my supplies at the ready, I settled into a defensive position, my back against a crumbling wall. The darkness stretched before me, an impenetrable void that held both mystery and danger. My thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the events that had led me to this point.

The trail of blood outside the broken window still beckoned to me, a silent invitation to unravel the secrets that lay beyond. But I knew that venturing out into the unknown could be just as perilous as staying put. I had to weigh my options carefully – stay and defend my position, or risk the dangers of the outside world in search of answers.

As I contemplated my next move, a distant sound broke the silence – a soft, almost imperceptible whisper carried by the wind. It was a voice, distant and distorted, but I couldn't make out the words. My heart raced as I strained to listen, my senses on high alert. Was it allied? Another enemy? Or something else entirely?

With my heart pounding in my chest, I strained to catch any fragments of the distant voice that drifted on the wind. The words were indistinct, like whispers carried by a ghostly breeze, taunting me with their elusiveness. Every fiber of my being was on edge as I tried to piece together the meaning behind those faint murmurs.

I leaned closer to the shattered window, my breath held in anticipation. The darkness outside remained unyielding, refusing to reveal the source of the mysterious voice. It was as if the very air itself held its secrets, teasing me with glimpses of knowledge just beyond my grasp.

As I listened intently, the voice grew slightly louder, a mere echo of its original source. It seemed to be coming from somewhere in the distance, beyond the desolate streets and crumbling buildings. My mind raced, trying to decipher the origin of the voice, but the effort was in vain. The words remained elusive; their meaning shrouded in mystery.

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