The Smiling Corpse

 A small layer of moisture, formed from the morning dew, created a crystal-like reflection that shone off the corpse's pale, rotting flesh. With his arms outstretched above his head, he shone and stood out amongst the dark, coarse mud he lay in. He almost looked like an angel from a distance, but as that distance was closed the reality of his visage became clear. He was no angel. He had died in a spectacularly violent fashion, making the gleaming smile grafted across his face, unnerving. His pale white flesh was covered in boils and marks from head to toe and he smelled ungodly. His most distinguishing feature had to be the large piece of metal jutting out from his chest or the fact his leg resembled swiss cheese post grater. Standing over the shining corpse, I wondered what was the moment that marked his death? Or should I say deaths.

The bits of civilian clothing that still clung to his body marked this soul as just a mere man of Vraks. The twisted, contorting flesh marked him a victim of higher powers. I had heard from whispers, on vox channels I'd be executed for chiming into, a phrase that came to mind, chaos. I didn't know what that meant, Chaos, but from the morsels of information I'd picked up it was nothing good. Officers I overheard placed responsibility on Chaos for some of the more otherworldly forces that had been present on Vraks. Monsters and creatures that eluded reason. Demons and soldiers, born from a nightmare and now also, this guy.

I feel responsible for the ill fate that fell upon this man. At least partly. I felt responsible for the piece of metal through his chest, the crater he lay in, and his inevitable fall. There was so much left to be understood of chaos. Had this "Chaos" made promises to him? What kind of promises did he agree to? Promises of strength, of power? Promises to protect his home, his planet. Perhaps the promise to protect his family and maybe this promise allowed him hope on a planet where the sun shines over trench lines.

His first death was when chaos turned him from man into this. His second death had come from a shell, fired miles away from a crew who never even knew about him and he's the bad guy. At least that is how the remembrancers will record it.