I'll Tell You a Story

War of Z's

"It's just uhm, a little sweet hello from the Nazi!" the lieutenant's humor did not stop the paratroopers from clamoring. A while ago, their aircraft started to rumble. As panicked chatter and shouts were continuously heard in the background, more of the German weapons whizzed in the air. The unending explosions mixed the sound of the roaring engine in the air.

"Andersen!" Lieutenant Wilcox shouted but he didn't hear.

Andersen glanced nervously around, rubbing his shoulders even though the weather is warm. Lieutenant Wilcox gave urgent orders to Andersen again, but it was taking too long for him to answer. The other soldiers eyed Andersen for his silence then gunfire broke out. Suddenly, Lieutenant Wilcox jerked from the impact of several bullets. A few moments later, their aircraft exploded.

"Having nightmares, Sleeping Beauty?" Lieutenant Wilcox's mock was the first words Andersen heard upon waking sweaty and disoriented. He survived the explosion. He was alive.

In his mind, there were a lot of things he wanted to ask, but words died in his mouth. Things like why was he naked and lying in a grimy bed. His hands and feet were tied. The leather cuffs were too tight that they were blocking the flow of blood.

"Lieutenant?" Finally, he was able to say something, yet it was almost a whisper. His teeth clenched against the frigid air as he tried if he could stand.

A surge of conflicting emotions churned inside him as his eyes searched the place. It looked like a run-down hospital or asylum. Beside Lieutenant Wilcox was an endomorphic man, probably in his seventies. He was wearing a hospital gown which gave Andersen a hint that he might be a doctor. But the question that made Andersen's forehead wrinkle was why was he there? He immediately checked all parts of his body, thinking that he underwent amputation. The moments between terror and relief made him swallow hard, his throat tight.

"God damn it, soldier!" Lieutenant Wilcox eyed him with his dragon-like glare.

"Where are we?" he managed to ask, but it was weak as someone's last breath. He steered his gaze toward the doctor behind Lieutenant Wilcox. He was busy wearing surgical gloves. It made his heart hammer violently in his chest. He could feel the real danger lurking near, ready to pounce at him any second.

Lieutenant Wilcox snorted as he bent double, his serious face was an inch closer to his. "You see pretty boy, you're not fit for this game. So, I'll give you freedom," he whispered to Andersen.

"What d-do you m-mean?" Andersen was totally freaked out. He still did not understand the situation.

"Andersen, I don't fucking know who you really are. But I need you to be a real soldier from now on." Lieutenant Wilcox snapped.

"This won't hurt." Even the doctor's words were unclear to Andersen, the hacksaw the doctor was holding was terrorizing enough for him that he wet the table he was lying unto.

Andersen roared in obvious torment as he felt the sharpness of the hacksaw against his neck, his voice reduced to a gurgle as the serrated edge of the saw split his neck. Too much blood spattered at the doctor and Lieutenant Wilcox's faces.

When Andersen was already headless, four men who were also in hospital gowns entered the room. They brought a dead buff body with no head.

"Hurry attaching the head on that body..." Lieutenant Wilcox ordered at the doctor impatiently.

"This will not fail this time," the doctor nodded in reply.

"...and make sure he will last for centuries," were Lieutenant Wilcox's last words before he shut the door of the room behind him.