Cold War: Before The Bell

Chapter 11

He jerked awake, soaked in beads of sweat. He tossed the covers off of him, sliding his feet to the ground. He placed a gentle touch around his neck, breathing so rapidly as if he had just broken to the surface from under water. He sat there, holding his head in his hands, the images of those beasts burnt into his mind.

"It was just a dream Petrov. Just in your head." Fuze was rolled over his back facing Anthony.

"I didn't even say anything." He clamed his breathing.

"You didn't have to. After a while, the sound of a fresh nightmare becomes like a sixth sense."

"I'll be back." Anthony threw on a pair of pants and a coat, forgetting any boots. He shut the door to the bunker and sat underneath a tree. The leaves crunched as he brough his knees to his chest.

He had experienced "bad dreams" many times before. This was something of a different breed. This felt so vivid, so close. He could feel every surface, smell every putred scent. It disturbed him more than anything ever had. It wasn't the feeling of dying that had him to his breaking point. It was the feeling that this somehow had something to do with his father, the familiar prescence it had. It was terrifying.

He sat there, letting his mind drift. Listening to the sounds of leaves blowing, trees swaying. It calmed him, center him back to reality.

"Comrade." Perseus snuck up from behind him.

He jumped, his Redeemer in hand. "Sorry, I was just a bit... cautious."

"Something on your mind?" He stood beside the younger man, seeing his clothing he had an idea he rushed to get out of the bunker.

"No, no sir." His family knew him to never be a good liar. If they could wait another thirteen years or so, maybe they would say otherwise. But that was a ways away.

"You were trembeling, boy. You wear your fearful enotions on your sleeve." The older man observed.

He kept his eyes to the ground, his stomach feeling sick.

"What's got you like this?" Silence. "I can't send you into the field if your head isn't right. It will be sure to affect your actions and we cannot risk the outcome of operations, you know." He cleared his throat.

"I... I saw them as clearly as I see you now." His stare was blank.

"Saw what?"

"Those beasts."

"Sounds, interesting." Perseus raised his brow, Anthony having finished telling him everything. "I've been meaning to get you evaluated. Just for your health. I want to make sure all of my men are in their best condition."

"At this time of night?" He sounded curious.

"Doctors are always on duty, switching shifts. Their work is important. Come, it won't take long."

They walked back inside, one of the doctors sat Anthony down in a seat. Perseus stood beside him.

"And why do you need so much of my blood?" He asked the lady, sticking a needle into his arm.

"Its just procedure. Not only do we need your blood type but depending on which type you are it can greatly benefit the injured soldiers who can receive it." The lady explained.

"How soon can I know what I am?"

"Just a few days, I'll tell you if they find anything abnormal in your blood." Perseus spoke up.

"Abnormal?"

"If you have any traits for potential health risks, this could tell us."

"Of course." Anthony replied. He was always skeptical when it came to his body in a lab of some sort.