Chapter no.5 Normal Life?

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In the haunting silence of a desolate battlefield, John found himself alone. Not a stitch of clothing graced his skin, leaving him vulnerable, exposed to the elements and the eyes of the unseen enemy. He could feel the warm stickiness of blood covering him, its source unknown, its presence a terrifying mystery. His heart pounded fiercely, a drum signaling the start of a sinister ordeal.

As his eyes adjusted to the hazy twilight of this nightmarish landscape, a figure emerged from the mist — small, fragile, familiar. William, his son, stood with a tranquility that had no place in this hellscape. His innocent eyes locked onto John's, searching for the comfort only a father's presence could bring. But this solace was cruelly snatched away by the presence of another — Kito, the very boy John had once saved, now a mirror of the man he had become.

Kito's arm was outstretched, his hand gripping the cold, unforgiving metal of a rifle. Its barrel pointed unwaveringly at William. His voice, chillingly calm, reached John's ears, "I am like you… a hero."

The words sliced through the air, a twisted echo of the past, a mockery of the heroism John had once embodied.

The scene was surreal, a grotesque pantomime of John's deepest fears and regrets. Around him, the sounds of battle raged — the cries of the wounded, the roars of the dying, the relentless gunfire. But all of it faded into nothingness against the tableau of his son in the sights of a gun.

"NO!" John's voice tore from his throat, a desperate plea, a command to the universe to rewind, to undo this unholy moment. His body moved, but it was as though he trudged through molasses, every motion a herculean effort, every inch gained a victory against an invisible foe that sought to hold him back.

The distance between him and his son seemed to stretch endlessly, a gap that could not be bridged by mere physical effort. He reached out, his hand trembling, his plea silent, his soul screaming. The trigger under Kito's finger was a line between life and death, and John was powerless to stop the impending doom.

And then, the world exploded into sound, a thunderous, ear-shattering bang that resonated with the finality of an ending.

John woke up.

He was screaming, his voice raw, his bed a tumultuous sea of tangled sheets. The echoes of the gunshot were still ringing in his ears. Sweat drenched his body, as if the blood from his nightmare had turned to a chilling sweat of fear. He was home, in his own bed, the soft predawn light filtering through the curtains.

It was just a nightmare.

The relief that followed was overwhelming, yet the terror that clung to his heart was a shroud he could not easily shake off.

John's breathing was ragged, each gasp an attempt to steady himself, to anchor himself back to reality. Maria's touch, gentle on his shoulder, was the warmth he needed. She looked deep into his eyes, those same eyes that once sparkled with optimism now clouded with a storm of memories. "John," she whispered, concern lining her features. "You've been distant ever since you got back. Talk to me."

His voice trembled as he began, "There was a child I saved on my first mission as a soldier." The weight of the past pressing down on him. "He looked up to me, wanted to be a hero, like me. And then... I met him again, not as an ally but an enemy."

Maria's face contorted with pain as she tried to fathom the depth of John's torment. "Oh, John..."

He continued, a tear streaming down, "He had grown, but those eyes... I recognized them immediately. I know he recognized me too." John choked back a sob. "But I had to make a choice, for the mission, for everyone else. I aimed for his head, to give him a swift end. But that moment... it's etched in my mind, like a bullet frozen in time."

"Because of the weight of that choice," John replied, voice full of anguish. "That moment plays in a never-ending loop, the bullet, the impact, his life ending."

Maria, tears streaming down her face.

"Why are you crying?" His voice breaking.

Maria's eyes bore into his, filled with tears and understanding. "I can't imagine the pain you're feeling, the choices you had to make. But John, you never cry, not in front of me."

He looked up, meeting her gaze, "I don't know what I did to deserve you, Maria. To have you by my side."

She clutched his hands, her touch filled with love and warmth. "And I'm just grateful every day that you come back to me, safe. Every time I hear that doorbell, my heart leaps with fear... that it might not be you, but military officials bearing the worst news."

His heart heavy, John whispered, "I've decided, Maria. It's time I hang up my boots. For us, for William. I can't keep living this life."

A mixture of relief and concern flooded Maria's face. "Are you sure? What about your team? The brotherhood you've built?"

"I need to say goodbye to them. They're family," John's voice held a note of determination. "Just one last mission. I promise, if it seems too risky, I'll walk away."

Maria took a deep breath, trying to find solace in his words. "I want a normal life, John. For us, for William. Please promise me that's what you want too."

John nodded, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Yes, a normal life. That's all I want now."

She hugged him back, tears dampening his shoulder. "Okay," she whispered, both of them finding solace in each other's arms, hoping for a future filled with peace.