Night 1, the middle of nowhere
I have no idea where to begin; I don’t even know what to write...
First off, fortunately for me, I managed to keep my diary on my person when the... event happened. That is why I am able to tell this story and put what has been happening down on paper so that I could hopefully leave something for when the inevitable comes. Unfortunately, however, the recipients I intend to leave my diary to, which contains all the misadventures I have gone through since leaving Saitama, may no longer be able to get their hands on this. I don’t know it yet, but the more time I spend here–wherever this place may be–the more I’m convinced that that is indeed the case.
Let’s start with the event. As far back as I recall, I was stationed somewhere in China during the month the cherry blossoms were supposed to be starting to scatter back home. Months after months of offensives and counteroffensives ended for naught; the end result being more towns leveled, countless bodies–friend and foe and otherwise–scattered all over, and priceless fuel and ammunition now worth more its weight than all the gold in the world. I remember hunkering down again when we were notified of another offensive by the Chinese. Then, when we saw them, we threw ourselves and our bayonets–having run out of munitions long ago–at them, but they answered in kind with bullets. I remember the immense pain that followed as a bullet lodged itself into my skull, then everything went dark–no senses, pain, none of that.
What happened after felt like a dream, and just like a dream it faded as soon as my senses and consciousness returned. I found myself lying on the cold, hard floor of what appeared to be a bunk room, the swaying light on top of which and the smell of salt led me to conclude that I was on a ship at sea. As I spoke out to myself, “where am I?” someone else answered. Surprised, I motioned my head to where the voice came from, and my eyes laid on another man’s equally perplexed eyes staring back at me. Then, behind him, I spotted more souls seemingly waking up on the floor in a similar fashion.
Naturally, we were alarmed at the presence of strangers, and so all five of us swiftly got on our feet and faced each other, ready to either wrestle or tackle the other four. All of us appeared to be soldiers of the Emperor–we had our fatigues, our hair was shaved off, and some of us even had the munitions for their standard-issue rifles. Despite all of us being Japanese and on the same side, we were all tense and nervous with one another. Then, one of the more burly men with a sharp, pronounced jawline broke the ice.
“Who are all of you?!”
Apparently, none of them knew each other either.
The staredown continued as no one bothered to answer the threatening man’s thirst for answers; we were all equally suspicious of him too. Then, just as everyone appeared poised to throw themselves at one another, we heard a commotion outside–we were so preoccupied with one another that we didn’t even bother to notice that there was a door leading out of the room. There appeared to be some loud shouting beyond the cold steel walls, prompting the burly man to take point and open the door.
Beyond it lay a corridor that was filled to the brim with other people–soldiers, civilians, women–hushing about and confused as they tried to ask one another what was going on. We five were all equally perplexed, and our faces reflected our confusion as we asked ourselves the same questions. Then, we heard the ear-piercing sound of a loud voice–apparently amplified by a megaphone–from the end of the corridor.
“Everyone! Please calm down! We’re assessing the situation and will update you momentarily! Please return to your cabins as we distribute food and water!”
Some readily followed the orders and returned, while some proved more stubborn and harder to convince. The burly man was of the latter; he turned back to us and convinced us to return to the cabin with his intimidating physique alone. Back inside, we were left to our own thoughts and ponderings. While the intense atmosphere from before was nowhere to be seen, none of us bothered to talk to one another. That was the case until food and water arrived.
A character that appeared to be a ship crewman had brought us some meals and water before leaving off to attend to the other rooms. All of us couldn’t hold back our sparkling eyes and watery mouths at the sheer amount of white rice that he had given us–there was more than enough to last the rest of the day for all five of us. There was even some miso and fish! Once we’ve broken the stance the food had on us, we then turned towards one another with faces that said: “now what?”
Surprisingly, the burly man was the first to speak up.
“I don’t wanna fight my fellow comrades and countrymen over these blessings. As a sign of trust, I will introduce myself; my name is Matsuoka.”
It turned out that there was a beating heart underneath all that muscle. One by one, we introduced ourselves as Matsuoka equally distributed the food and water to each of us. As we chowed down–nay, gobbled up–on the chewy, starchy, almost saccharine white rice, another one of us, a tall, lanky figure with a goatee named Kunieda, started telling his story. Before long, the rest of us started telling our stories.
The burly man, Matsuoka, was from a middle-class family in Kanagawa. He tried to become an officer, but his low grades got him discharged, so he chose to enlist. He was deployed in Manchuria together with the bigshots in the Kwantung Army. The last memory he recalled was feeling an insurmountable amount of pain from his forehead during an action near Mukden–the year was Showa 12. This would pin his death during the outbreak of war with the Chinese.
The lanky man, Kunieda, was from a poor upbringing in Hiroshima. When his parents died while he was in high school, he decided to enlist in the Army. He was deployed to Saipan just before the outbreak of war with the Americans; that was where he was going to spend the rest of his life. His last memory was much less abrupt than any one of us: he committed suicide when the Americans were about to emerge victorious when they invaded the island.
The shortest one of us, Kanda, was from a fishing family on the island of Sado in Niigata prefecture. Unsatisfied with the sedentary life ahead of him, he ran away from home and enlisted in the Army. He had been deployed together with the forces that pushed into Burma from Siam. His last memory was perhaps the most unsavory and unpleasant out of all of us: he got separated from the rest of his unit during a night operation and was mauled by a crocodile he never even saw.
Lastly, the one with the glasses, Aso, was an orphan from Hyogo. He had been left behind in one of the Christian institutions there, which then sheltered and gave him education up to his teens. Disillusioned with the teachings there, he left to enlist with the Army. He was deployed with Army forces in liberating Malaya from the British back in Showa 16. There, he caught malaria while on a campaign. His last memory was of him struggling to breathe as he lay weakened on a hospital bed.
Hearing their stories, horrific and tragic as they were–reminders of the heartbreaking state that the war had brought upon all of us, it appeared that I was the latest to perish. Matsuoka, the earliest one out of all of us, was the most visibly shocked and disturbed by what he had heard. He couldn’t shake off the belief and illusion that the Empire would be ascendent and victorious, a far cry from the mutilated corpse it had become according to the stories we told. While we all wanted to hear more about how the war between the Chinese and the Westerners went. Then, we all came to realize something we all had in common: our final memories were all of us facing death, immediately after which was the loss of senses and a dream-like hallucination where we heard the voice of a woman.
None of us could remember what we heard word for word, but we all agreed that the voice mentioned something along the lines of: “fight and drive away the evil from this world and save its people; a glorious afterlife away from the pains of Earth awaits should you succeed.” The fact that all five of us likely experienced the same dream after what appeared to have been our deaths just convinces me of the extraordinary nature of what we’re dealing with here. I still couldn’t believe it, even as I write this hour after our little storytelling. Are we really somewhere else other than Earth? Was it really a goddess that spoke to us and did this? Did the same thing happen to those people we saw outside; the ship crewman; the officer with the megaphone; the woman with the baby; the restaurant chef still in his kitchen clothing; the ten-year-old kid with what looked like his father? Did everyone die–peacefully or not–and was sent here by that goddess? Why do they have to fight? What’s this evil that the goddess is talking about? How do we know we have succeeded?
Questions, coming from both me and the other four, relentlessly filled the room as answers remained scarce. Then, Kanda called out to us and pointed towards the side of the room directly opposite the side with the door. There was apparently a window: another one we’ve missed. Immediately, we all got up and rushed to it, jostling over each other as we all scrambled to get a view of the outside world. I was fortunate and managed to snag a three-second view of the outside world: besides the empty ocean, there were other transport ships, but the most surprising of all was the presence of warships with guns and cannons–every single vessel I had seen flew the Hinomaru. This raised even more questions for us. Why were there transports and navy warships? Were their crews summoned as well? Did they suffer the same fate we did? Does that mean that these ships were lost too?
Unfortunately, the officer that promised explanations never got back to us, but the crewman from earlier continued to give us food and water and told us that they were going to make an announcement soon. I have no idea when that ‘soon’ will be; it’s already past 9 in the evening, and some of us had retired to sleep. I continue to write since I am scared of closing my eyes for long periods of time, fearful that I may wake up to find myself somewhere new and unknown with another set of faces. But then, maybe the goddess will appear again and answer our questions? I don’t really know. What’s for certain is that my hand has gotten worn out from writing, and my eyes are starting to sag.
I’ve had my fill of today. The food was impeccably amazing; the months of rations and days without food back in China now feel like distant memories as my stomach rejoiced. I’ll probably leave this entry here and get back.
Night 2, still on the ocean
I’m back to writing this, and compared to yesterday, it is now much harder to write since the ship is on the move. Today has been an eventful one. I will start back at lunch earlier.
While chowing down on the usual delivery from the ship crewman, we’ve been suddenly asked to go out to the corridor. There, we saw the officer from yesterday with a megaphone at the other end, finally telling us the announcement he had mentioned yesterday.
Apparently, we had high-level commanders (whether the top of the top or not still eludes me) who were with us, and after some delays–presumably some chaos and infighting, they had finally established order and have come up with a structure that takes into account everyone. The officer then broke the news to us that everyone had seen a dream telling us to go “fight the evil” and that the high-level commanders from the Army and Navy had decided to follow that, especially after the discovery of a massive landmass with forests and fields directly to the south. The plan was now to make landfall there, start construction on necessary facilities and probably some settlements and fortifications, and then find out more about the so-called ‘evil’ that we had to fight.
This announcement was not well received by everyone; needless to say, there was a lot of clamoring for more answers. When dissatisfaction got hold of some of the people in the corridor, the officer didn’t hesitate to pull his gun and fire off a shot into the thick steel ceiling above. A dry ‘pam!’ resounded across the corridor, followed by the ejected shell casing hitting the floor, effectively silencing the civilian majority standing in the corridor. He then threatened to slash food should they be any more unruly, which was more than enough to send everyone back into their cabins. Matsuoka went back inside with an unamused face, muttering, “that couldn’t have ended any better.” Makes me wonder if the other people on other ships had it worse. Either way, we were more or less forced to follow what they were saying since we knew not of what was going on in the bigger picture.
An hour after that incident in the corridor, the ship began to turn and move. Outside, we could see the countless transports and warships spouting out heavy black smoke as they all pierced the waves moving forward. If the officer’s statement earlier was to be believed, then we’re likely heading south to land on the unknown continent. I wonder what’s in store? They mentioned that it was forested, so I imagined trees and jungle as far as the eye could see. However, since we’re in a supposedly different world–should the dream we had were to be believed–maybe it’ll be much more unique and strange? Perhaps I’m wrong since they might have actually seen the landmass through a scout plane. The seas and the skies already appeared to be blue, so perhaps the land may look the same as back home? Actually, they’re far clearer and easier to breathe in than back home; I wonder why?
The night sky appears to be the same, too, although I recognize none of the stars–not that I recognize the ones back home either. With my mind having drifted home, I sure wish my sister and my mother are alright. If the Americans or the Soviets were to invade, I hope that they somehow do the right thing rather than get captured. In exchange, I’ll do my best in this endeavor and meet them in the afterlife... if ever it was real.
Night 3, Morigashima
Today was much, much, much more eventful than the last two. What the hell... where do I even begin? First off, I’m writing this while in a trench. It’s long past nightfall, and we still haven’t finished our tents. I’m taking this opportunity to write since I couldn’t hold back from it; I want to get this all down before I’m spotted and have to resume–
- - -
I’m now in a tent, and I’ve got my diary back. I had to finish the remaining part of the trench while the others were dismissed for the night as part of my punishment.
Anyway, I will get down to what had occurred today.
Earlier this morning, we were woken up by the ship crewman that had been serving us food and water for the past two days. As we got out of our bunks, I noticed that the ship had stopped its movements–it had stopped. We were then led up to the deck, where we could finally get a clearer view of the outside world. The natural, breathable air I had praised last night had disappeared, replaced by dust and soot from the endless smoke the ships belched. Up there, I finally laid eyes on both the massive armada of Hinomaru-flagged ships that was not visible from our small window and the much more gigantic landmass to the south. It was indeed, as the officer mentioned: luscious green forests as far as the eye could see. Before I could savor the sight more, we–soldiers first–were then ushered by officers into boats that would take us to the beach.
Since they cramped more people in than normally allowed by the boats, the boat ride could only be described as unpleasant. Still, I managed to be fortunate enough to be near an opening from which I could see the outside world. There, countless other boats and landing craft, which carried all sorts of heavy equipment like trucks, were speeding in droves towards the beaches of the landmass. I forgot to mention: our commanders had decided to name the landmass “Morigashima.” Talk about originality.
As soon as we felt the boat engine start to peter out, we got ready to step off and disembark. When the command came, we all stood up and got off the boat in order. It only stopped shy of the coast, so we had to jump into shallow, hip-deep water. When I splashed down onto the water, its low temperature, difficulty moving in, how it seeped into my clothes, and its overall wetness reminded me of the beaches near Yokohama that my mother took me and my sister to back when we were kids. It was–if anything–Earthy. I ask the goddess once more: am I really in another world?
Then, as if to answer this question from a lowly mortal spared from damnation back on Earth, my eyes came across some figures standing on the beach. They were talking to what appeared to be our commanders, their long, clean, white robes in sharp contrast to the dirtied, khaki fatigues of our superiors. They appeared to be old and carried an aura of grace and refinement. While it was already obvious that they were not one of us, their sharper faces, longer jawlines, taller stature, and abnormally loooong ears hammered that reality in. As it turns out, I wasn’t the only one gawking at them in curiosity and disbelief: as everyone marched up the beach and towards the open field some distance inland, they couldn’t help but look at the almost fantastical figures our commanders were talking to. I managed even to get a closer look at the grove beyond them; there were dozens–perhaps hundreds more–of similar-looking people hiding behind the thick trunks of the trees. If what the goddess said about this being a different world were true, then would these be the natives? Are they the ones who we’re supposed to ‘save’?
Skipping some unpleasant memories of standing in the heat with wet clothes, it took hours for everyone–including the civilians–to unload off the ships and come ashore onto Morigashima, but we’ve already been tasked to work. In a short briefing to us soldiers, our captain spoke to the company I’ve been assigned under. I could still vividly remember his remarks due to the uncanny whistling of his bucktooth.
“Welcome to Morigashima, men! If the divine message (note: yes, that’s what we’re calling our collective ‘dream’ now) were to be believed, then it is the natives of these lands that we must protect! If not for the glory of a promised afterlife, which we’ve already guaranteed by dying for the Emperor and Country back on Earth, then for our own survival! Right now, we need to set up a temporary camp here as we gather more information on the local area; our company has been tasked with the defenses, so grab your shovels and start digging!”
As directed by our platoon commanders, we started setting up the outer trenches of a star-shaped camp on the open plains south of the beach. Forming part of the defenses were the high cliff falls to the north and northwest. Me working on the outer trenches would take up the bulk of my day, and by dusk, we had already dug up much of the necessary trenches needed for the outer defenses. As we worked our asses off, the civilians had already come ashore and were tasked with helping the soldiers set up necessary facilities like kitchens, mess halls, and barracks. Then, when I and the other four (I forgot to mention that we were all part of the same company) took our break, we caught a glimpse of trucks filled with ammunition and some towed artillery being directed towards the camp from the beach. It’s true that we haven’t been given arms yet, but all five of us surmised that it was only a matter of time until we were.
The last memory from today worthy of mention is personally something difficult to put onto paper.
After wrapping up our short break and we returned to work, I heard a loud scream from Kunieda–it was not one out of pain but of fear and anger. With our shovels as makeshift melee weapons, the rest of us immediately hurried to where he was. When we got there, we found him frozen in fear, shouting “get back!” at what appeared to be a native child that had come close to him. The child wore green and white clothing, but unlike the long-eared, stoic natives we saw earlier, this one had animal features–feline ears, sharp cat-like eyes, and fur all over. Naturally, we, too, were taken aback, if not scared shitless.
When Kunieda started rattling his shovel in hostility as he shouted, “stay back, you monster!” the beast-like child started to get unsettled. Dissatisfied with the lack of results, he swung his shovel up high, his eyes brimming with fear and a sign that he was ready to do it. Fortunately for everyone and the child, we arrived just in time to physically restrain Kunieda. Aso, the least fearful out of all of us, approached the child and started signing with his open palms to get the kid to back off. To our relief, the kid appeared to understand what he wanted to say and took off back into the darkness on all fours.
Had we not intervened in time, Kunieda would have probably ended up hurting–or worse, killing–that child. Still, that encounter was scary. I have never seen such a creature before. It looked like a tanuki that could stand on all fours; had it been something like one, it might have even been rabid and defensive. Fortunately, though, it was about as reasonable as an actual person. I’ll make sure to be extra careful around those little critters from now on.
Night 5, Morigashima
After two days of work, we finally got the most basic of defenses and structures up here in the camp, now named Gakenomisaki after the cliff it was built on. The fourth day was nothing special, just more trench work, but this fifth day had something else of note. Since we wrapped up the defenses first and with no immediate threat in sight, our commanders had ordered our battalion to visit a native fishing port to the southwest along the coastline. Apparently, the natives had been warm and receiving enough to allow us to use their land and share maps with us, which then led us to discover a suitable natural harbor for our smaller ships. The advantages afforded by nature were not lost on the natives, however, so the spot was already long occupied by a native settlement that housed a (comparatively) small fishing and trade port. Our commanders, egged on by those fatass upstarts from the Navy, who seemed to be upset about not having any suitable harbor for their gigantic warships, wanted to secure land next to the settlement to construct logistics facilities, as well as a suitable port for smaller ships to be able to use.
Setting off from Camp Gakenomisaki early in the morning, our battalion marched along the cliffs that provided an unobstructed view of both the infinite expanse of great, blue ocean and the imposing armada of Imperial Japanese Navy warships off the coast with their powerful, gargantuan artillery. We followed an existing dirt trail–destined to become a bigger road in the future, and I presume–as trucks ladened with supplies and building materials kept pace with our march behind us. I cannot–I repeat, I cannot understate the magnificent state of nature all around us. The air was unremarkably clean and easy–if not pleasurable–to breathe; it felt as if the sheer amount of greens and blues that dotted our surroundings could easily have seeped into the air for us to inhale and enjoy. The occasional virgin-growth grass that we stepped on resisted the soles of our shoes as if still untamed by the march of civilization. From what we’ve heard, the natives apparently had no means of industrialization yet and have been simply living off the land and using simple wood and stone to construct roofs above their heads. Tales from other platoons regarding their contact with natives also had them gawking at the rusted metal on our shovels. Perhaps they haven’t seen iron yet?
With the groves to our right and the open ocean to the left, after hours of marching, we finally reached the settlement–a small village consisting of houses built with bleached stones on the coast surrounded by simple wooden palisades that served as a wall. To its south were rolling hills dotted with occasional signs of agricultural activity and to its immediate west lies the natural harbor: a massive bay more than a kilometer across with countless inlets that allowed for small fishing craft to take shelter from storms. Squinting my eyes to see further, I could even see a marginally bigger settlement on the opposite side of the inlet.
As we marched closer to the fishing settlement, we could see the natives, some of whom were the long-eared fellows, the animal-featured ones, Westerner-looking people, and now even shorter, more gruffly midgets, come out to greet us in droves. It wouldn’t be a stretch to call these people ‘primitive’. At the head of their conglomeration keeping them in check, was what appeared to be the village chief: a tall, long-eared fellow with a gold tiara and long green robes accompanied by soldiers donning leather armor and brandishing what appeared to be bronze-tipped spears. The major and some company commanders went to meet him together with some of the elderly natives who had met us at the beach days ago.
They talked on and on as we stood there, still in formation and wondering what was going on. After some 30 minutes of chattering, we were finally ordered to resume our march. Bound for a plot of land on the coast just next to the small settlement, the natives watched on as we all marched in near unison to the beat of the marching song we chanted out loud. The natives cheered us on and held their hands up high as if in prayer, mouthing off words none of us had ever heard of before.
The rest of the day was uneventful. As soon as we arrived at the plot of land the native leadership had generously given to us, we were back to doing manual labor: earthworks, defensive positions, construction–you name it. The natives watched on as we supposed ‘saviors’ struggled to lay the foundation for a warehouse. Meanwhile, transport ships from the armada–having probably been notified of where the new harbor was–started arriving at the inlet. More civilians came ashore on boats to assist in the construction effort. The entire scenery of massive iron seagoing vessels unloading smaller, faster vessels carrying dozens of people visibly wowed the natives, who then started to fall on their knees in apparent prayer.
Thanking their gods for the arrival of massive ships carrying a lot of problematic people, who then proceed to do mundane construction work... What a weird world.
Night 11, Camp Fort Gakenomisaki, Morigashima
It’s now almost a week since I last got the time and energy to write. I’ve been so tired from all the work they made us do that I just collapse and fall asleep as soon as I get back to my bunk.
It has been 11 full days since we’ve appeared in this beautiful, apparently evil-stricken world. With a dedicated force now allocated to the new harbor facility, which was christened with the name Camp Edogawa, our battalion was returned to Camp Gakenomisaki, which in the two days we’ve been away has turned into a massive fortification with earthen ramparts and wooden watchtowers. The surrounding forest had unfortunately been sacrificed for the construction of the camp–nay, fort, with only the countless stumps and an extensive area without tree cover left behind. The effort to do so had apparently been with assistance from heavy machinery brought ashore by landing ships.
Meanwhile, at the beach where we first landed, vehicles, supplies, and people were still coming ashore, but now there were one or two transport ships that had been beached. From what I had heard, they were badly damaged by unseen coral reefs–an incident that’s likely to get more common since we have no marine maps of this world–and commanders decided to scrap them for badly needed steel.
The topic of steel brings me to the next part of what I’m going to write down.
While the purpose of ridding the world of ‘evil,’ which we are still yet to find and identify, remains the topmost objective, a looming problem forced our commanders to temporarily shift priorities: we were rapidly running out of resources, most especially and critically oil and coal. The machinery upon which our entire operation ran–trucks, ships, power tools–was rapidly wearing out and badly needed more fuel. We came to this world with supplies, but those had already been mostly used up. Even grunts like me were feeling it: there was already a point in time when our company had to ditch a truck since we had to ration our remaining fuel. Our ever prudent commanders had apparently already been looking for a way to remedy this from the moment we landed on Morigashima. Two days from now, they’re bound to send a battalion further south towards the mountains, where they’ve learned from the natives that there were significant deposits of badly needed coal there. I’ve also learned from some Navy personnel in the fort that they were going to set out towards the southern end of the landmass; apparently, there exists a land on the other side of the great mountains that were brimming with ‘lakes of black water.’
This was where everything changed.
I was at the headquarters here in Fort Gakenomisaki doing some fetch work for our platoon commander–may the gods fuck him and his arrogant face–when native elders, the same ones that had given us the land here and at Camp Edogawa, barged into the building. Like the rowdy bunch they are, they started shouting, calling out our commanders. Before the fewer patient soldiers could lunge at them and shut them up, our commanders came running out of their offices and ordered us to back off. When they entertained the native elders, one of them started speaking in broken Japanese.
“Know. Us... You go to the south... Find coal. Rocks. Black water... No do that!”
He was probably trying to say something along the lines of, “We know you’re going south to find coal, rocks, and oil! Don’t do that!” Our commanders asked them why and to which they responded.
“Our god says... You kill evil! Go do that!”
To which our commanders responded, “What’s this evil you speak of? Your god told us nothing!”
Then, the native elder held out his hands.
“Show you... God’s message.”
As soon as he started blabbering out words, I began to feel dizzy. I remember my eyesight getting blurry and disoriented by the second; it was a very unpleasant experience. In what little I managed to see, the other soldiers with me and even our commanders seemed to be experiencing the same thing as they started to collapse on the floor. Before I could even think that the native elders were attacking us, everything blacked out.
Then, I woke up again. However, this time, I was somewhere intensely hot and dark–I couldn’t see a thing. But then I started feeling other people’s skin on my skin, their sweat rubbing against mine as they seemed to struggle for space. Moments later, my auditory senses kicked in, and my ears were awash with countless pained screams, desperate cries, and ear-piercing wails. I did not understand a single word, but subconsciously it felt as if they were all crying for help.
Suddenly, a bright light assaulted my eyes as I heard the sound of a door opening. In the middle of the door-shaped light was a figure I cannot–I repeat, I cannot discern. It seemed slimy while at the same time covered with fur–it didn’t even have a discernible figure at all. What appeared to be limbs moved around. Meanwhile, its presence evoked a ghastly, if not dreadful, response from the mass of bodies all over me.
“NOOO!!!!”
“PLEASE DON’T KILL US!!!!”
“SPARE US!!!”
I don’t know if those are the words I heard, but the excruciating desperation underneath their screams was enough to tell me that there was something wrong with the unknown figure. Then, with one of its indiscernible limbs, it grabbed me by the head, tugging on my entire person as it forcefully yanked me free from the mess of bodies all over me. Its grip was beyond strong, and it appeared to have scaly or thorny lesions all over that dug painfully into the skin of my face. It felt as if my head was going to be crushed like an egg.
It pulled me out of whatever structure I was in and into the light. There, I was beholden to the familiar sight of rolling green fields and bright blue sky, but with a sinister, almost diabolical twist: all over the luscious green fields were countless mutilated, disfigured bodies–heads, limbs, intestines, and everything in between–simply heaped up into countless mounds. I saw what appeared to be houses, all burnt down or in the process of burning. My ears were assailed with the screaming of dozens–if not hundreds–of people begging not to be killed and of unsavory sounds of their bodies being ripped apart in the most brutal of fashions.
Then, I saw... them. Even now, in the comfort of my bunk in Fort Gakenomisaki, I can’t help my body shake relentlessly as I relive–remember–those memories...
They were monsters–nay, demons!
Damn it, even the word ‘demon’ does their sheer monstrosity and horror an understated disservice!
I remember seeing a tiger-like monster that was on all fours but without any of the grace nor fur of one; it was just simply a bloodied mess that had a head with massive teeth, along with a smaller mouth that also had teeth inside its primary mouth.
I remember seeing a blob of flesh that had countless squirming tentacles and protrusions all over it, each holding a human–complete or incomplete–as its gaping mouth ripped apart everything that was introduced within its vicinity.
I remember seeing a group of red-skinned midgets that looked like people. They had sharp claws on their hands and their heads... Well, their head simply served as the mouth; they neither had eyes nor a nose. The scene I saw them was... disgustingly beyond what I had seen–not even the brutal horrors I’ve come across in the offensives back in China could compare: a group of around ten of these diabolical midgets assaulted a defenseless person, the entire event turning into a massive blood splatter as the slowly dissipating screams of said person hounded my ears.
The barbaric scene was too much for me; I fainted.
As the sensations of what I had experienced disappeared into the void, I started to once more feel the cold stone floor of the headquarters on my face. Regaining consciousness, me and my comrades looked at one another with sweaty foreheads and frightened faces. We struggled to stand up and find our footing as memories of what we had seen made sure that our limbs kept on shaking. Even our commanders, usually so composed, appeared to be unable to keep their backs straight, their eyes wide open and in disarray. Then, the native elder spoke up.
“The evil... Thousands of my people, they killed... Coming here. Doing now, them!”
We all instantly realized that our mission was to fight those things. Some of us in the lobby started throwing up, the overwhelming pressure to face such demonic monstrosities getting the best of them. Our commanders looked at one another with convinced yet uncertain faces. They then gave the native elders their composed affirmation before turning around to disappear into a meeting room.
I... I don’t know what to feel.
Those things are definitely, beyond doubt, evil. That was certain. However, I’d be lying to myself if I wasn’t scared and worried. Do we really have to eventually fight those monsters? The mere thought of them is enough to turn my entire stomach upside down: what more if I actually come face to face with them? Are our rifles and artillery more than enough? Will many of us desert or commit suicide the moment we see what we’re actually going up against?
Fuck. I don’t know... I wish I could end this on a less devastating note, but I just can’t... I can’t even sleep...
