In The Shadow of the Beast - Part I

Day 1,121, 12:58 • Published in Finland Finland • by Erwin Schauman


Theme music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPMTeoZtdz4

War on /V/akistan, Day 2
Diary of Commander Schauman

God, I hate this place... Does this wretched land have anything else to offer than endless dunes? I have sand in places I didn't know existed. The sand is literally pouring from under my eyelids, and with each bite on my rations I feel it crunching between my teeth. It's everywhere! I fear this country tries to absorb us, turn us in to grains to add to its already massive stock of sand.

Two days I've been here and I've already started to miss my frozen hut in the north. The daily sand storms of this land force us to seek cover in any place available – rocks, rat holes... some even hide under the bodies of fallen soldiers.


The eternal wasteland...

By day the scorching sun boils your eyes in their sockets and makes your skin turn in to a canvas of blisters. By night the temperatures drop below freezing, and the trolls native to this land crawl out of their caverns to spam and disrupt conversations. And the Dioists call this place a paradise. Hah! Yet another proof of their delusion...

Sometimes I wonder what madness makes us sacrifice our wellness on this altar of war each day. All our wealth, our energy is poured to fuel the war machine of hate and violence. And for what? For few buckets of sand? Add a shovel and we have a nice playground for the children of our generals!


What are we fighting for...?

Muffled cry from underneath my boot awakens me from my thoughts, and I glance down. The elite /V/akistani Pedobear fighter I had shot earlier appears to still be alive. Pedobears are among the most loathed Meme militias employed by the /V/akistani army. Vile beasts, they prey for the weak and the small. They show no mercy, they should not receive any in return. That's the deal around here.

I reach for my sidearm, remove the safety and rest the barrel on the wretched creature's head. I stare in the creature's black eyes for a moment, pondering if it has a soul, and what afterlife awaits it. Assured that it is not a creature of God, I pull the trigger. The shot echoes in the now quiet desert. The empty shell lands on the dune and rolls down the sand until its path is blocked by a small rock. White stuffing leaks from the open wound on the monster's forehead.


”One less”, I quietly say to myself.

The Sun is setting. It's soon time. I pick up my helmet and strap it on, preparing for the worst. Our nightly ordeal is about to begin.

”HERE THEY COME!”, I hear someone shouting. I gaze grimly at the rising dust cloud in the horizon, trying to discover what abominations this country throws at us this night. The thunderous rumble of thousands of feet hitting the ground increases in volume as the dust cloud draws nearer. I hear the the traditional /V/akistani war cry, chanted like mantra by the approaching horde, echo in my ears: ”LOLOLOLO!”

As the first wave reaches the top of the dune hills, we catch the first glimpse of our enemy. Nothing could had prepared us for what we were about to face.

”LOLCATS!!”, screams the panicky private next to me. I notice the slowly widening wet patch on the front of his pants. I can't blame him. I was a greenhorn once myself. A long time ago.

Taking a firing position, I load my gun with a fresh clip and chant a short prayer to Perkele. Not that the bastard ever listens.

Seems like it's going to be a long night...