when the dead rose, this home-grown militia came about in response. called it the human volunteer force. i joined when i was 14. i was a good soldier. i was a really good soldier. it's easy to kill something when you're being told you're good at it. it's harder when they cure the thing you're killing and put it back in your house and tell you it's a person. that it's someone you love.
i always had nightmares. i don't think you live through this shit and don't. even the dead have nightmares about it. when the hvf disbanded the nightmares got worse - i got worse. like suddenly i was just scared shitless, like i hadn't been a fucking soldier for almost five years.
the dead - john would fucking love them. they have this freedom fighter shit, this cult called the undead liberation army. they have this drug that sends them back into temporary rapid states for terrorism. scared people all over the country, and we had this mental mp come into roarton who decided we needed the hvf back. but they couldn't call it the hvf anymore, because the hvf were terrorists now too. they were bigots.
i joined because - well. it doesn't matter. i joined. i freaked out in the woods on patrol, in the dark. i could hear the way the dead breathe when they're hunting, but it was just the fucking wind. i panicked. i'm a really good shot, danny. i never miss a target. i killed a 14 year old dead kid and my ex burned the body, buried the bones, and told me that was that. 14 years old. his mum wouldn't stop looking for him. i had to keep - keep looking her in the eye every time i saw her, knowing he was never coming home.
and quentin can think i'm a cunt all he wants for not giving a shit that felipe died. i gave my own brother more shit for dying and i love him more than anything.
Edited (SORRY I KEEP SEEING TYPOS) 2023-12-16 23:53 (UTC)
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you're very sweet when you want your dick sucked.
you trusted me with something fucked up. can i trust you with something fucked up?
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cw: child soldier, child murder, militia mention
i always had nightmares. i don't think you live through this shit and don't. even the dead have nightmares about it. when the hvf disbanded the nightmares got worse - i got worse. like suddenly i was just scared shitless, like i hadn't been a fucking soldier for almost five years.
the dead - john would fucking love them. they have this freedom fighter shit, this cult called the undead liberation army. they have this drug that sends them back into temporary rapid states for terrorism. scared people all over the country, and we had this mental mp come into roarton who decided we needed the hvf back. but they couldn't call it the hvf anymore, because the hvf were terrorists now too. they were bigots.
i joined because - well. it doesn't matter. i joined. i freaked out in the woods on patrol, in the dark. i could hear the way the dead breathe when they're hunting, but it was just the fucking wind. i panicked. i'm a really good shot, danny. i never miss a target. i killed a 14 year old dead kid and my ex burned the body, buried the bones, and told me that was that. 14 years old. his mum wouldn't stop looking for him. i had to keep - keep looking her in the eye every time i saw her, knowing he was never coming home.
and quentin can think i'm a cunt all he wants for not giving a shit that felipe died. i gave my own brother more shit for dying and i love him more than anything.