Arop's eyes slowly blinked open as he gained consciousness. Immediately his vision was obscured in darkness. Being awake enough to realise the situation, he tried to get up and move, but his limbs were tied.
"You're awake."
His head shot up, looking directly at the line of light that beamed through a small open space, before it eventually closed. Then moments later he heard the sound of turning locks and the loud creaking of a heavy door. As the door slowly opened light bathed his face, but then it was blocked. As Arop looked up, he saw the president, standing at the doorway with a smile on his face. He stared at Arop, with a look of surprise and confusion on his face, before he motioned to the guard that he is dismissed. He took a couple of steps towards him, not breaking eye contact. Arop looked up at him, maintaining eye contact, until the president suddenly stopped approaching him. He looked down at him, studying his face before he said.
"How strange. …Aren't you afraid?"
Arop did not respond, he just continued to stare up at the president. Then a sudden smirk appeared on the president's face.
"I take it you're the one who informed us about where exactly the revolution was hiding? Did you have an accomplice with you of any sort?"
"I'm the only one that contacted you." Arop said.
"I find that hard to believe. You're telling me a child somehow gathered deep information about a revolution and learned about their allies. Not only that, you mapped out the entire structure of where they were hiding, along with its ins and outs."
A smirk appeared on Arop's face followed by a chuckle.
"It doesn't matter if you believe me or not. What matters are the countries that are allied with the revolution. You should know with them around, your ambitions will never reach reality. …But despite that you still carry on with your madness. …Is it because of the great blessing?"
The president's eyes widened. His face that was once calm and confident morphed into shock and wariness.
"Who are you?"
"What do you mean president? I am a slave. I am nothing more than that. "
The president glared down at him, opening his mouth to say something, but before he could even get the words out of his mouth, Arop already knew what he was going to ask.
"Don't worry. Eric has nothing to do with this. He doesn't know a single thing about what's really going on."
"It doesn't matter if the child knows or not. He poses no threat to me."
Hearing this Arop looked at the president and burst out laughing.
"Did I say something funny?"
"Yes. Yes, you did. You honestly think Eric is weak."
"Am I wrong? What threat could children possibly pose to me?
Arop looked up at him with a smile on his face
"I myself won't deny that I am weak. But the man trapped inside the body of a boy will one day be strong enough to stand in front of the goddess."
For a moment silence filled the room, as they both stared at each other. Suddenly a smirk appeared on the president's face, followed by laughter.
"You must be joking. A boy who cannot even keep his resolve together will one day be worthy enough to become the Goddess's consort."
The president continued to laugh in amusement and disbelief for what he had just heard. To him, the words that had just escaped his mouth were nonsensical and no better than gibberish. But to Arop those words that had escaped his mouth was the truest thing he had said in his entire life.
Suddenly Arop's eyes flickered, and in that brief moment Arop was somewhere else, somewhere he had once was, and in front of him was the person he always strived on chasing, but no matter what, he just could never catch up. No matter how many times he pretends to be like him, he just could never catch up to him.
Finally the president's laughter finally came to a halt.
"That might have been the most amusing thing I heard in a while. Remind me of someone else I knew."
The president turned around to approach the door.
"I will be holding you captive until humanity has received the great blessing. It's probably best for you to stay here anyway."
As the president's hand gripped the door handle, Arop stopped him.
"You think Eric's weak. I will prove to you, or rather he will prove to you and the entire world that he's not."
The president paused for a moment, then turned around to look Arop in the eye once more.
"Oh yeah. Then I look forward to the birth of this messiah of yours." He said, before exiting the room.
As the door closed, light began vanishing from the room. Before the door could fully close, the last ray of light illuminated Arop's face, revealing a wide grin, until that last ray of light disappeared, leaving Arop trapped in the darkness until the promised time had come.
"I look forward to it as well."
Micheals eyes flew open as the sudden noise. His heart, trying to break free from his chest. He paused for a second, trying to make sure what he had just heard was just a dream. But he heard it again, and immediately he knew what that sound was. The orchestra of war. The sound of bombs exploded throughout the air, it's might shaking the very earth and structures. He heart stopping sound of screams quickly followed, further filling the air with panic and fear. The north is here, he thought. For a second he considered to stay where he is at. Praying to god that this battle will end up in his factions victory, but he couldn't do that. Not when he has his sister. But what if dad and mom already too her to safety. I would just be risking my life for nothing, he thought as he bit down on his finger nail. But what if they aren't at a safe place. Suddenly a vision of his sister being carried away by a group of soldiers flashed in his mind. He had heard stories of things like that happening before. Army men taking children by force to fight in the war. Putting a gun in their hands and sending them off to their deaths. Turning them into the same type of people they are. Normally boys are the ones getting forcefully recruited in the military, but Micheal heard a rumour recently, girls and women alike were also recently forced into the military. Although their professions were limited to only being nurses and cleaners, the thought of his sister being forcefully recruited by the military to participate in the war scared Micheal. Biting his nail off, he got up on his feet and ran out into the street. He could feel his rate accelerate drastically. He could feel the black smoke going through his nostrils and into his lunges, burning them. He coughed reflexively as he stared at the Bentiu right before his eyes. People scarried across the streets screaming their lunges out as they tried to find a safe place to hide. Buildings he was once familiar were either burning or already reduced to ruble. The once starry black sky was covered a vail of thick dark smoke, completely masking the moon and stars.
"I have to hurry." He said.
Micheal ran past the ruble and burning buildings, putting the collar of his shirt over his nose to reduce the intake of the smoke. Suddenly he had this aching feeling at the back of his head. It was telling him to move a little to the left. He ignored it for a while, until he finally listened, and as he did a orange light zoomed past his eyes, nearly touching his nose bridge. He quickly turned around to find the origin of the bullet. As soon as he turned around he was met with the sight of men mounted on heavy military trucks firing away at their enemies. He couldn't even tell if those soldiers were apart of his faction or not. That's not important right now, he reminded himself. Please, please, …please make her be alright, he thought as he turned into a street, merging with the stampede of people, running for their lives. As he ran, he could feel the violent pushing and shoving of the erratic people around him. Men, women, and children alike were all under the curse of chaos. Screaming, scrambling, and pushing and shoving people out of the way to secure their own safety. Suddenly out of nowhere the building on Micheal's right, suddenly exploded, sending ruble down on the stampede of people. Micheal didn't even get the chance to react when he was hit by a avalanche of rubble, completely burying him. His vision was painted by a layer of red as it began to faltar, until he lossed consciousness once more.
Now awaking from his dream. He could hear voices in the background. But he could barely understand them through their distortion. He tried opening his eyes. His vision too was distorted. But in a few blinks his vision slowly began to recover. It recovered well enough for him to make out the ceiling that's above him. Then he tried to get up, but as soon as he did, pain shot through his torso and his left leg. Ignoring the pain he gritted his teeth and managed to get on his two feet, walking towards the voices. He could hear them coming from the opposite side of a door. If he had to take a guess, it seemed as if they were discussing about the loss of their comrade and what they had just seen back at the town's square. The images flashed in his mind. He could still feel everything he felt in that moment. He could feel the tense atmosphere weighing down on him. He could feel the hot sweat dripping down his face. And he could feel his anger and anguish, eating away at his soul. He was hoping that it was all just a dream, but as he learned long ago, a illusion will not save you. So with the gritting of his teeth and his fist tightly clenched, he twist the door knob and opened the door.
Almost immediately all heads and eyes turned in his direction. His men sat on chairs in the living room, forming a circle around a fire. As he glanced around he noticed, the front door and the windows were barricaded by stocks upon stocks of furniture, forming a make shift wall for one of the worst case scenarios.
"Captain." A soldier called.
He turned to them with his still blurry vision. But despite that, he didn't have any trouble seeing the tired look on his comrades faces. He also noticed the lack of spark in their eyes. At the beginning of the mission their eyes were all full of light, but now that light had completely vanish from their eyes, replaced by a hollow spiral of black. Something so black that it could be mistaken for the eyes of the dead. But he knew he did not befriend nor trained with dead men.
A sudden headache along with a wave of stattic memories washed over Micheal, causing him to stumble. "Captain, are you ok." One of the soldier said, getting up from his seat.
Micheal trying to regain his balance, motioned for him to sit back down, as he pulled out a chair for himself to sit on.
"What's our status."
The men glanced at each other for a couple of seconds, before one of them answered.
"...Well as you know, we lost one soldier during our mission. In our escape we exhausted our ammunitions. And two soldiers were shot in the leg and the torso, but thanks to the vest they were wearing the bullet wounds are shallow. However, they are not as effective as they were before, due to the loss of blood. …In our retreat I recommend we go in the next hour. The more we wait the more."
"We are not leaving."
The men exchanged glances at one another, trying to find out if they really just heard what they thought they heard.
"Captain. I don't think you heard me correctly. We can not fight. Our men are wounded, we are low on ammunition, and we can not accomplish the mission anymore. We alone can't."
"Listen. …I know alright. What i'm saying is we can't leave through the way we came. I'm almost positive that they have either sealed off the sewer or they reinforced it with more guards and cameras. Nobody can neither get in or out of there." Micheal said.
"So what your saying is, we're trapped in this town."
Micheal nodded. The men glanced at one another, their face switching from hope to fear. Micheal noticed one soldier, clutching his rifle tightly, before he asked.
"Sir are we going to."
Micheal immediately cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
"Nobody's going to die Emanuel. But if we're going to make it out of here alive we need a strategy. And I have one. Radge, is the communicator still picking up signal."
Radge, the soldier he was discussing logistics with, shook his head.
"I thought so. If we are going to make it out of this town alive, we need information. How many men do they have guarding certain buildings, how many hours a day do they spend on patrolling the streets, and where exactly are they interrupting the signal. If we can find that out, we can contact the revolution for the reclaiming of Bentiu."
He glanced around at his men, noticing the look of uncertainty on their faces.
"Or instead, we can all just die here."
They all glanced up at him, shocked.
"What are you saying captain."
"It's either my plan or we die. Probably end up in a furnace somewhere, ...or a death much worse. …Listen up. Now is not the time to be afraid and have low moral, our back are against the wall and we have nowhere to escape. It's either we do this, or we die."
Micheal extended a rifle offering it to his men.
"Anyone who wants to take the easy way out can do so. Put the barrel of the gun on the roof of your mouth and blow your brains out. You have my permission. I won't dictate how or when you die, that choise is up to you. But if you want to keep on living act like it. Now tell me your choice, do you want to die or do you want to live. Hurry up and tell me your choice, I don't need weak men."
The soldiers glanced at each other, taken aback by the captain's sudden change. Then one the soldier, suddenly but violently, smacked the rifle from Micheal's hand, and said.
"Of course we want to live. We are not going to die here."
Micheal smiled.
"What about the rest of you. Are you all going to meet your maker."
"No sir.
Micheal stared at them, a smile appearing on his face once more.
"Good. Now, Radge, you take care of the wounded. Emanuel, you and I will have to do all the heavy lifting. I have a feeling by midnight they will have a shift change, so at about 11:45 we will survey wherever is heavily guarded. Do you both understand."
"Yes sir." They both said.
"Good, now everybody get some rest. Come get me if you need me." Micheal said, entering a room, quickly shutting the door behind him.
Immediately he slammed his fist against the wall.
"Damn it. If I just, …if I just never hesitated, …Malik would still be alive." Tears began to flow down his eyes as he clenched his teeth in self fury. Then he remembered what exactly he saw through his scope. Men, and women, locked up together, burning alive, screaming in pain, as their flesh burned into statues of ash. Among the condemned was a woman, some decades past her prime, but Micheal could recognize her anywhere. That woman was his very own sister. He clenched his teeth even harder and stabbed his finger nails into his skin, causing it to bleed. He wanted to cry, but the tears from earlier for some reason refuse to come out. Micheal wanted to cry and reminisce, though it would be painful, to get rid of all his pent up emotions or at least hold them at bay for a while, so when he meets the man responsible he will take his life with a mind in his control. Suddenly, that image from earlier, flashed across his mind. It was the president, staring right back at him through his scope. He oddly resembled someone Micheal knew from a long time ago.
"Could it really be him. No, can't be. He wouldn't do something so terrible. …And besides, he died a long time ago."