Rolling Home (McMillan)

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

His words didn't fall on deaf ears it seemed, just naive ones. Colly really was one of the innocent few that got mixed up in a terrible thing. McMillan wanted to protect that, but when it came down to it, if you live by the sword then you die by the sword. "The Allies have been fighting a losing battle for too long, to continue to build their strength would only get more men killed, as this would all take much longer. The Nazis, although screwed up in the head, have been preparing far longer, are better trained, and from the equipment I've seen, well the think tanks they have work up some pretty advanced weaponry." McMillan looked down as his finger started to sting a bit, his cigarette had almost burned out completely, an arching string of ashes hanging from it. He dropped it and lit another, stomping on the dead smoke just to be safe.

"No Stephen, I don't think the Allies will win, in fact I think they are going to fail miserably." Then Stephen brought up the camps, the horrible camps, McMillan hated them as well, with a passion. He was a soldier, not a self proclaimed god, but Colly didn't seem to know the whole story. "The rest of the world? Stephen, the Americans are doing the exact same thing, herding Asian men, women, children, splitting up entire families into camps across the U.S. After Pearl Harbor they went all crazy, they rounded them up as well, they are poorly fed, rarely sheltered, and medical attention is almost non-existent. This isn't a Nazi thing, this is a man kind thing." He hoped his bit of revelation would help the lad see just how cruel the world really was, how fear could drive entire countries to the brink of insanity.

The last war, nothing like this war, nothing like it at all. So many new machines devised to tear men apart in a moments notice, designed to fill your lungs with liquid, designed to burn you to a bloody crisp, designed to scar you for life. This was a whole new breed of war, and McMillan wanted to stay ahead of the game. "Yeah, they did win the last one, many of my childhood friends lost fathers, uncles, cousins to that war. Yeah the Allies won, at what cost? So it could happen again, on a bloodier scale? For every life lost in the first Great War, ten are falling in this one, and it's no where near over." McMillan drew hard on the cancer stick, he was starting to sound like a propaganda speaker.

"Maybe I'm an idealist, but someone has to do it, someone has to see the end game coming, someone has to try and change things, otherwise there might be a third one of these, and at this rate, mankind won't survive it's own co-existence."

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen held his tongue; he knew he was fighting a loosing battle here. McMillan obviously thought he knew best and that was that, he obviously thought that the Allies were going to lose and that the Nazis and co would come in and take over the world and make them all speak German. ”How do you know they are going to fail? We might not, you’ve got to have some hope in the matter, if no one hopes or believes then there is no way of the Allies winning…was that why you went over Ed? Because you didn’t want to be on the losing side?” Stephen brought up the reason why Edward left again; he hadn’t given him a good enough answer or one that Stephen couldn’t understand or get his head round.

”But…but…” Stephen was definitely trying to fight a losing battle, McMillan knew too much unfairly enough. ”Fine, man kind thing then…but Hitler is still a mad man and a power hungry git.” he muttered, he now understood that the world was indeed cruel, he had been living in a paradise world of a little village in Devon, not realizing the horrors of the world outside of Devon, of England really. Stephen had never been to the USA, and Edward had so Edward was more likely to know about what was happening over there than Stephen did. ”The British don’t do things like that.” he muttered pathetically, knowing it wouldn’t work.

”Many of my childhood friends lost fathers, and uncles and cousins as well Ed…” he muttered, Edward was now firing him with impossible questions that Stephen couldn’t answer. ”You sound just like a Nazi, speaking like that.” Stephen muttered again, ”Propaganda speaker I think.” he added, his cigarette was burning his hand and he let out a quick gasp and dropped it, stamping it out quickly.

”One man can’t change the world Ed…” he muttered as he stared at the smoking, squashed cigarette on the ground.

The two lapsed into silence for a few minutes; Stephen trying to think up something to say in retort and to back up what he believed in but nothing was coming. After a few more minutes he finally said, ”What now? What do you want me to do after this if I get back to Allies lines…?” there was no way Edward was going to come back now, ”I can’t keep this meeting secret Ed…Nathan or Daniel or Liam would want to know you are alive surely…” he trailed off and looked at the ground.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan knew that there was no way this conversation was going to progress his caring for Colly, if anything it was going to scare the poor boy. Edward didn't want to do such a thing...he didn't, but if it got Colly out of it then it was all worth it. "NO I don't want to lose Stephen, have you not noticed what happens to the losers here...THEY DIE! If they are lucky they die...the rest get scarred, lose limbs...I couldn't look at myself in the mirror if I lost a leg or an arm, hell I've already got this horrible scar on my face...the man that gave it to me was the man that handed me my own weapon at the surrender, I should have shot him then and there, but then I wouldn't be here to speak with you, so I'm glad he still breathes." Then Stephen contradicted himself, speaking of Hitler being a mad man, Ed agreed, Hitler seemed like a self proclaimed anti-Christ, but you know what, he could convince the low willed masses to lay down their lives for him easily. He seemed to be changing the world...all by himself.

"One man can't change the world...? Are you listening to yourself? Hitler has crafted Germany into a machine to conquer earth, he has hoards of people fighting for him, and you think one man can't change the world...before it's all over it wouldn't surprise me if this was the single largest loss of human life...EVER! Hitler did that!" he seemed like he was becoming a Nazi himself, but he hated what Hitler stood for, what the Nazis stood for, but he dared not speak of it. He sucked in the smoke of the cigarette and while he exhaled it he thought of how he had finally found someone he feared, well something anyway. Maybe that's what it was that drew him to the Nazis, maybe he needed someone to look up to. He had no respect for the Allies.

"Keep it a secret? I would never ask you to lie Stephen, ever, I care about you too damn much. Tell Liam, tell him everything, Tell Dan as well, tell whoever...but make sure my brother doesn't catch hell over this...you do that for me Stephen? Will you? Steven came into this looking for me...kinda. He can handle his own I'm sure, he has some of this blood running through him, the blood of a warrior. But he shouldn't be punished for this. There is a good chance that when you tell them this it will fall on deaf ears, all I'm asking is that you try, maybe even give him a heads up on what to expect." McMillan continued to smoke his cigarette hurriedly. All the talk of his old friends and family had him a bit emotional. He slid onto the ground and tilted his head back to rest against the wall.

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen was slowly giving up any hope of getting Ed back, or getting the real reason, this conversation would keep going backwards and forwards until one of them won it and most likely that person would be McMillan…to be honest, Stephen was getting a bit terrified by this talk, this talk of loosing limbs and scars. Ed had a scar, many other people in the Allied camp had scars, hell…the Great War survivors were the worst, some didn’t have any legs at all and some others didn’t have any arms…horrible sight and a sad sight, not something that Stephen would like to live with.

McMillan seemed to be shouting a bit, Stephen just stood and watched him, he looked like a Nazi, his voice sounded Nazi like. ”You aren’t the leader of Germany Ed…there is a difference.” he muttered, looking back down at his feet. Stephen had looked up to Edward when he had been with the Allies but now that he had betrayed the British and French and Americans and all the others, Stephen felt let down, hurt, annoyed, angry at this man standing in front of him…this man had run from a life he didn’t want not standing up to it.

McMillan now changed the subject to talk about Liam, Dan, even his brother who Stephen had only met once. ”I don’t want to get your brother in trouble…” he did not want that at all, to get a person in to trouble that wasn’t his fault. ”I’ll think about it…that’s if I get back and don’t go and get my self killed.” he muttered, he felt slight emotion crept into McMillan’s voice and he heard a small thump as the man sat on the floor. Stephen edged closer and sat down slowly next to him. ”Why do you care for me so much Ed?” he suddenly asked, watching him through the darkness, ”Actually, don’t bother.” he then said, glancing down at his watch. He could just make out the time…just past midnight.

”I came back out to France to die Ed…if you hadn’t been here I might have just gone and hung my self because I thought you were dead…” he suddenly said this, looking at Ed again through the darkness. The two then sat in silence, Stephen letting his words sink in.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Edward just listened on as Colly spoke. The reason that the lad couldn't understand was the same Reason that McMillan didn't want him in a uniform of any type. He was young and naive, still so innocent. That is what Ed wanted to preserve. Then he talked of killing himself, Ed would have taken his own life to avoid such a great loss. Ed was only good at the worst things humans had ever created...Colly stood for what was still right in the world.

"Don't bother." that hit Ed hard...he wanted Colly to know what he felt, how he thought. His head sank as his eyes started to sting a bit. He choked back the emotions and decided to let the boy know just what he thought. "Listen...Stephen...There are men out there that have a place in this garbage, then there are men out there that have a place elsewhere. I fall into the first category...you...well you..." He trailed off as he fought with the fact that the best thing he could do for the boy was to scare him enough into leaving. He feared that might have horrible consequences as well. He had already spoken of killing himself. "...you are the type of man that makes me despise myself...those like me. If there were more people like you then all of this junk wouldn't be tearing the entire world apart."

McMillan stood once more, leaving the warm side of Stephen, it was caring that he didn't deserve..."Colly, I hope you never see me again. Try to get as far away from this mess as you can. Live your life and be the kind and gentle person for us all...be a true man and spread your warmth with the world if you can. This isn't the place for you...just get away from it all." He whispered sternly through the cold damp air to Stephen. His eyes shut quickly as he could feel that it wouldn't be too much longer before his emotions got the best of him...he reached for his smokes, this was going to be a very long night.

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen sat and stared at the yellow covered straw on the ground, twirling his thumbs around each with slight boredom, then McMillan spoke and Stephen glanced over at him, stopping his thumb twirling to concentrate on what the older man said, he wanted to know.

”I don’t want you to despise yourself.” he muttered, not knowing what else to say as he felt a lump in his throat at what else Edward said. Looking away, he feels tears spring to his eyes.

McMillan left his side; Stephen felt cold air wrap around him as the two bodies were quiet warm sitting together, ”No!” he said as Edward talked about never seeing him again, ”No, no, no, that can’t happen Ed, I…you…” he stopped, trying to work out what to say.

”Just no…no, I have to see you again, I…you, y-you are…” he stopped, closing his eyes he doesn’t really know how to phrase what is begging to be let out, inside him. He could hear the emotion in Edward’s voice at that last speech and he bit his lip, trying not to cry. ”I can’t get out of the army Ed, I’d have to die fighting or be court marshalled, I have to stay…are you certain you can’t come back? Or…O-or…” he stopped again, tears sprung into his eyes and fell down his cheeks as he wipes them off quickly.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Edward stared out into the night as the cigarette jutted directly forward from his face. He listened to Colly behind him. He lit the cigarette and sighed heavily before drawing on it to light. Sliding the lighter into his pocket. His eyes closed abruptly and his head jerked to the side with guilt as Colly said he wouldn't leave the military. Stephen wanted to know if he could come back. Come back to what a losing war? Come back to be shot?! He had gunned down four of his own unarmed men in cold blood. There was no coming back...unless he wanted to end it all. But he wasn't ready for that, not by a long shot. There was still a long time left before he could hang his boots up.

"...I can't go back..." he hesitated for a while before he mumbled the phrase to himself, but he couldn't tell Colly why they thought he was dead, why they found the rest of his crew, butchered nest to their own tank. "I can't come back Stephen, that's all there is too it. They would...they would kick me out, then what would I do?" he lied to save the boy some heartache, he didn't want to twist the reality that Colly might be clinging to. There was no need for it, he would never find out...so long as Liam kept his mouth shut...he would be the only person to have possibly seen the report...seen the images the coroner took.

He drew hard on the slender bit of cancer as he thought of what facing a firing squad would be like. All his hard work, all his fighting, his men dying...for what? So his ideals could die bu the hands of a few Allied Privates...so everyone back home could get the closure they wanted from him? Screw that, there were still battlefields to see, evil to expunge. This was still a long way from the end game...Edward just didn't want Colly to have to be around for it. "Stephen...I...you...FUUUUCK!!!" he blurted as he tried to think of a way to get this finished with, but there was nothing that could be done. The Allies had just dealt a major blow to the SS and they had ground to make up for it.

"I say the things I do for reasons son-Stephen," he caught himself before he talked too much. "...There is a grand plan for all of this, but I need you to trust me when I say you won't want a part in any of it." He took another drag from the rolled tobacco be fore exhaling fully, letting his shoulders slump and his head droop down so that his chin rested on his bulky chest.

[Stephen Colly]

The boy knew that Edward would not be able to come back, he had betrayed his king and country, no, he knew the answer before Edward said it, yes…that was right, he couldn’t com back, they would kick him out and then he could live a normal life…maybe not. ”I know you can’t, I guessed…just wanted to make sure.” he muttered, biting his lip.

Facing a firing squad would not be nice, having to be shot at by your own friends sounded the worst thing that could be done to anyone, the army was ruthless and bad and horrible…it just wasn’t nice, but Stephen was stuck in it. He had come in to find his horse, to make sure his horse was found, he cared about his horse more than anything, and now…now what?

It made Stephen jump as Edward swore, ”What? What?” he looks startled as he stares over at Edward, wanting to know why he was so angry, or upset…he didn’t know. Son…then he called Stephen son… ”You just…” he stopped talking and looked away, feeling a sudden connection between the two which had only been there in glimpses before.

”I’ll try Ed, I’ll try…not to be a part of it.” he knew that that would be unlikely and most likely Edward knew that as well…”I…I love you Ed…” he blurts out, looking away and putting his hand over his mouth, feeling like a right idiot. ”Shit, shit, shit, shit.” he mutters.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Ed smiled a bit as Colly said he would try and not get mixed up in it anymore, but it was a false hope. They were both in it about as far as one could go...well at least before making it to the stages Wolfram had. The guy had pretty much lost it, but his entire heart was in it, and that's why McMillan knew they would win, that's why he followed him so blindly.

A true smile crept across his face as he heard Stephen's expression of feeling, they say the bond between your brother's in arms in only weaker to that of a father and a son. HE tugged at the cigarette as he thought, Ed loved Colly too, he loved Liam, he almost even loved Daniel...but Daniel had screwed up pretty good back...this was neither the time nor the place. He shook it to the side as he turned to Stephen. Blowing the smoke from his lungs. "Love ya too man...but you know that, just like I've known you love me. Rough times have a funny way of pulling people closer together you know?" it was a rhetorical question. He leaned up against the side of the structure continuing to enjoy the brief moment of peace his smoke gave him. Finishing it he flicked it off onto the ground near the horse, but it didn't seem to notice the small glowing ember near it's hooves.

Ed spat at the ground as he bent over to take a seat once more. He hadn't had four straight hours of sleep in many days and it was starting to take it's toll on him. He rubbed his hand over his face as he sighed. The crickets were getting quite loud outside, this area must have been quiet today. McMillan smiled thinking about a day when he didn't have to worry about pushing toward the end of this mess, this ugly event they deemed horrible enough to shred the very essence of life with.

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen listened to McMillan, yeah, he loved him too…he loved him too…he smiled sheepishly into the darkness as he thought about how this meeting between the two would effect him. It would effect Stephen a lot, he knew that, he now had something to think about during the long hours of darkness, as well as his horse Joey, he had the thought that at least Edward wasn’t dead, and if this war did come to end and both of them survived then maybe, just maybe, they would be able to meet again and everything could be like the old days…the old days…they seemed ages ago.

”Yeah, war seems to do that.” he nodded his agreement with Edward when he spoke about ruff times pulling people together more, ”Yeah.” he sighed, realizing how tired he suddenly was.

Edward had now sat down close to him; he heard the man sigh and he glanced up at him, ”You tired?” he asked, watching the silhouette of Edward in the darkness.

A thought struck him but he didn’t voice it aloud, how would he get back to Allied lines? He didn’t know how far he had come into enemy territory, it surely mustn’t be far if Edward was here for Edward was the man who would fight on the front line as much as possible, he would do it in the morning, not now.

The horse shuffled its feet in the stable and Stephen glanced up, watching the animal go to drink at the water bucket, he wondered what that animal did, farming most likely. ”What will you do in the morning? Leave?” he glanced over at Edward now.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Edward smiled as Colly sat down with him. It was one of those moments that are few and far between, especially in combat. He figured they could get at least a couple hours rest before they had to part ways once more, McMillan could picture it like it was only moments old, when he was at Stephen's side in the hospital...but thinking of all that had happened since then, the training, both physically and mentally...Germana was not an easy language to pick up. The fire fights Ed had found himself tied up into, the long journey's from location to location...it really had been a while.

"Tired...ha...yeah, there's an understatement." he said with a humorous smile perched on his jaw line. His body ached, his eyes were heavy and his mind was getting a bit cloudy. The peaceful night wasn't doing much to keep him awake either. He almost told the lad what he was really going to do in the morning, but decided to go with. "Guess I'll wave...then walk over to my men and keep trudging down the road...you probably won't even hear me leave...just take comfort in the fact that I will wave when I go." and by wave he meant gear up, and by go he meant slaughter the farmer and his entire family, take the food they could carry and stuff a bit of it into Colly's pack for his long march back home...well as close as he was going to get to it for a while anyway. Yes it was indeed going to be a morning. If he had the moment he would leave Colly a note in his journal even, but he couldn't do anything to jeopardize the boy's health.

If time allowed, he would say his good-byes.

[Stephen Colly]

”I’m tried to.” Stephen said, nodding as he felt his eyes droop a bit, he hadn’t realized until just now how tired he was, it had been a long hall up to the barn, away from the fighting, his feet ached now, he could feel blisters rising up on them, bending down he began to untie his shoe-laces, letting a little bit of air into his shoe and through into his socks, god that felt nicer…his feet were sticky and hot against his brown socks.

”Wave…” he nodded and glanced at McMillan, ”Alright, well…good luck with it all…I mean that.” he lent his head back and stared up at the ceiling, ”I think I might close my eyes for a bit.” he got himself comfortable and lent himself against McMillan as a sort of prop up for a bed…he could smell the man’s jacket and his scent and smiled softly, he wanted to remember the smell of McMillan, for he post likely would never ever see him again and if he did, either he would be captured or the war would be over.

”Night.” he murmured, glancing at Edward for the last time before his eyes fell shut of their own accord and he drifted off to sleep.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

OOC: Sorry it's so long, been a really bad day in the emotions department, had to vent.



"Thanks." McMillan said wit a smirk in response to the wish of luck. He just sat back and drifted off soon after Coolly did. One of the few nights his dreams weren't filled with nightmares...one of the few nights he slept long enough to dream of anything. It was just a special night all around.

* * *

McMillan halfway jolted awake as the equestrian in the building stepped about. He looked over to find a young boy fast asleep next to him; it seemed they had moved around a bit in their sleep, they were no longer right next to one another. McMillan stood and stretched as the sun started to peak over the horizon and beams of light slowly crept into the old structure. He took a moment to look upon Stephen once more before he climbed back to the rafters and collected his gear, slowly and quietly. There was one final task before he could set off back to base, or the next conflict. This, he would take joy in.

The farmer and his family had deliberately jeopardized what was pure and innocent in this world, not to mention something that was close to McMillan's heart...his heart, not something often touched. Soon many hearts would be touched, and they would stop. Edward stepped out and slowly let the warped door close, stealing a length of rope from it's roost, before stashing his gear in the bushes just past the farmer's house. He could hear the faintest bit of movement from the interior as he went on by. He had to move quickly as to be able to snag them before they got their bearings. He dropped his pack, his rifle, his pistols, and explosives next to a small tree and cut a few small limbs off to cover it up. His knife...well it had a job to do. The rope was slung across his body, left shoulder to right hip.

Once he arrived at the back door he could here breakfast being prepared on the other side, no go on entry he thought to himself. While he worked his way back to the front of the home he noticed that they tended to leave the windows open, he didn't blame them, it was a nice morning...but this one would not end that way, not for this family. After a few peeks into the home from various glass panes he slid into the home like a snake toward its prey. There were two beds and one of them was still occupied, it seemed the youngest child was off washing up, this one was still asleep.

Edward pulled a hefty length of rope and cut it, laying it on the floor for easy access, clasping his hand over the child's mouth, covering most of her face, with a finger to his lips he meant business and the child nodded frantically, not wanting any harm to befall her or her loved ones. "I'm not going to hurt you." McMillan reassured the young girl, tears beginning to well up in her terrified eyes. McMillan reached over to the night stand with his free hand and pulled out a pair of rolled up socks, shoving them into the girl's mouth he then proceeded to bind her up and he left her laying on the floor. She tried to kick a bit but it was no use, Edward had not been kind with his knots.

McMillan pulled another bit of rope off and cut it clean as he heard small footsteps approach from the other side of the rickety door. A young boy called out in French to his sister, but there would be no reply. As the knob turned McMillan waited for his chance. The door was pushed open only a bit before his burly arm shot through, grasping the shadow around the throat, a dab of spit sloshing out onto his forearm. He pulled the door open and yanked the young on inside. Pressing the door closed. This lad couldn't have been four years old. McMillan just held him in the air like a small cloth doll. He squirmed around trying to get free to no avail. His sister on the floor tried to scream, but the sound couldn’t have escaped the room. With similar motions the young lad's mouth was filled with the taste of feet, but McMillan bound him to the small chair in the corner.

They had a good mother; she was coming to check on her little ones, this would be her next to last mistake. Edward didn't let her reach the door. He pulled it open standing slightly behind it so she could see his handiwork, before she could take the deep breath to scream, the air was forced from her lungs violently; Ed's enraged fist caught her just below the ribcage in mid stride to her children. She slumped to the ground, only to look up to see nothing but part of a uniform, the lower half, specifically the right leg...the knee. Her head snapped back as her chin smashed into her upper jaw, teeth and blood spurting out. She crumpled to the floor, her lights were out and McMillan continued on toward the kitchen.

There was nothing to hide him from the view of the Father if he decided to turn; he would indeed see Edward coming for him. A duck into the bathroom left McMillan a moment to think. A vase...that could work. he thought as he poured the water and flowers from it. He stepped back into the hallway, staying low, the living room was short, but full of furniture, the kitchen wasn't much deeper. Once he made it to the end of the hallway, he hurled the vase through the living room and the kitchen; it flew into the master bedroom doorway and shattered on the opposite wall. The Father looked toward the door and walked over, about that time he must have heard Edward's loud charge but by the time he turned McMillan had already vaulted the couch and was stepping up into the kitchen area. The enraged McMillan was already airborne by the time the man's eyes could widen. Catching the man around his waist and crashing into the floor. The father knew this was bad news but his head smacking on the hard floor sent stars to his eyes, by the time he came around McMillan had crashed the hilt of his blade into the base of his skull.

Standing up McMillan's eyebrows perked as he heard footsteps behind him. No way they could have gotten loose![/b] He spun around knife in hand to see the eldest boy entering the home, armful of firewood. McMillan feared he would have to chase this one but it seemed not all Frenchmen were cowards, dumb, but not all cowards.

Maybe not so dumb after all, the firewood littered the floor as the young man dropped it, but he held on piece firm. The kid wanted to scrap; little did he know he had bitten off more than he could chew. The pair met full speed in the kitchen, well as fast as they could get to in the short space. The firewood clapped off McMillan's back as the boy jerked to the side, an unyielding elbow collapsed onto the left side of his face. Lad had a tough jaw as well, he snapped back up but Ed wasn't taking any chances, before he could posture up McMillan had gripped the caved in side of his face and pushed his skull through the table next to them.

Grabbing the frying pan, Edward re-entered the master bedroom, slinging the hot fat-back onto the father's exposed chest. A speechless man seemed to rise from the dead...as the scream finally came from the wide open mouth McMillan grabbed his face almost as easily as the first child, glaring a hole through the man's fearful expression. His eyes seemed to say he would comply, but Edward knew it was only to save his family, that would be in vain. Standing him up and pushing him along, all the way into the hallway. McMillan pushed one last time with great force as the man tried to turn and fight having seen his entire family out cold or bound up. He stumbled into the back bedroom landing halfway on his side having tried to turn. The scald mark on his chest making him wince fiercely. McMillan turned away and walked off, returning shortly dragging the oldest son into the room. The Father had tried uniting his wife but was unsuccessful in the short amount of time.

The Father seemed to be pleading with Edward for the lives of his family, but the snarl stapled to his captors face was enough to tell him this was the end for him...this was the end for them all and he broke down into tears, still trying to talk and pointing toward the farm house. McMillan nodded slightly as he glared at the farmer, whilst bending down. He snatched up the youngest boy and cut the ropes from his body, his hands and feet still bound, mouth still gagged, and with a small jolt McMillan sank his blade downward into the boy's stomach, a scream lurched from behind the socks and he went to flailing about as best he could. A sudden thrust toward the ceiling from McMillan slit him open from navel to nose and as Edward dropped him, his intestines spilled onto the floor, a pool of blood forming around him. Still the farmer just cried, never trying to save his son. McMillan wanted him to see, wanted him to watch how grave of a mistake he had made.

The oldest son, the only one to carry on the family name, began to come to. His fate would soon be sealed as well. Edward perched upon the defiant ones chest as he starred into his eyes. The boy's head went the twitching and McMillan only followed with the movement of his own head. A look of blind rage began to fill his expressions and the boy began to stop struggling, began to start fearing. Humph." Edward let out as he shook his head, the boy didn't have it in him either, looked like the only one fighting til the end was the dead boy in the corner. Ed planted his knife through the eldest’s thigh, pulling it free and the pouring blood followed, his main artery to his lower half had been severed. The thrashed about throwing spatters everywhere, McMillan's uniform soon became spotted with it, face and hands as well. He didn't wipe them off; he wanted this banner for the moment.

Still no retaliation from the Man of the house. Ed gritted his teeth, hating the man for what he had done and for the coward he turned out to be, the senior Nazi Sergeant wanted a fight, this was a let down. Soon McMillan dispatched the little girl...pulling her up close to his face, holding her so that her own father could see his daughter's face one last time. "Smile for him!" he forced through his gritted and blood stained mouth, teeth still clenched, his hands shaking with vengeance as he took hold of her small jaw, squeezing it into en eerie version of a small smile. His other hand came up and clasped the back of her tiny skull while his bent legs clamped onto both sides of her torso. He slowly began to twist her head as she fought the force. Her mother screaming bloody murder through the gag that had now become blood stained from her resistance. Eventually they could hear the muffled cracking from her spine within, and her muscles loosened just before McMillan let her fall to the floor in a contorted pile.

"I'd say may be next time you will think twice before handing good people over to a wolf, but there won't be a next time...but you already knew that, still huddled in your ball of snot and tears." Edward only wished the man could understand him, who knows maybe he could. McMillan spat in the man's face being just inches away. But the sudden silence from his wife drew his attention. The dark red liquid pouring from her throat from the large gash that had been bestowed it. McMillan slapped the man for fear a punch would put him out once more.

He stood up, towering before his final prey. He only shook his head as he paced the room, letting the reason he had entered the home look upon his dead and bleeding family. Edward motioned for him to stand. He wouldn't, only shaking his head as more goo flowed from his face; it was enough to make any man worth his weight in salt sneer at him for his cowardice. McMillan grabbed him and stood him up himself. Pulling him to the doorway to view the room in its entirety. McMillan only stood behind him as he looked down wondering if Coolly knew that this was the best example of the two types of men, those that could and those that could not, and with that McMillan buried his knife into the man's kidney, twisted fiercely and letting the man fall, pulling himself from the blade.

Edward wiped his knife onto the bath robe that hung beside him and sheathed his instrument of death. Turning, he lit a cigarette and went to collect his gear. His men would be ready to move soon.

[Stephen Colly]

The night had been extremely peaceful for Stephen. He hadn’t been worried about anything, about being blown up by a bomb, captured by Nazis...over the past few days that had been his nightmares but now, knowing he was in safe hands with Edward, he could dream and feel safer than he had ever felt before.

He had rolled on to his side, away from Edward, straw had covered his hair lightly and the sun shone into the window as he heard an animal in a stable near by move around its stall.

Then last night came flooding back to him and he realized that he had just met Edward McMillan in a French barn…wield. He sat up and felt his head spin, rubbing his eyes and dusting the straw parts out of his hair as he stared around the barn for a bit.

Standing up, he swayed slightly, gripping on to the straw bale for support and listened…silence….apart from the horse…no farm yard early chores going on…silence.

Frowning, for Stephen had lived on a farm and remembered the sound of early morning chores. This farm didn’t seem to have any.
He grabbed his pack, his rifle, and his jacket, putting it on quickly, slinging his rifle and pack over his shoulder and making quickly for the barn doors.

He squinted into the sun as it shone into his eyes. Shading his eyes he looked around, nothing. Silence, he could hear animals from the other barns but couldn’t see anyone…why was that? Had they gone on a morning stroll and would be back soon? No, surely not.

He decided now to make for the house, it was unusually quiet and he could smell the burning of breakfast coming from the kitchen. Making his way up the front door, he found it was unlocked.

”Hello?” he said softly as he stepped in, seeing the kitchen and walking into it…a fight had happened here, Stephen could see. Firewood was scattered across the floor, Stephen walked around the kitchen and through to the living room, chairs were over the floor, knocked over. The door to the master bedroom was ajar, Stephen pushed it open and his stomach turned as he saw the family lying on the floor…dead…apart from one.

The father was writhing on the floor; he was just next to the bathroom door. His eyes looked up at the boy who stood in front of him in British uniform, pleading. Blood was gushing from his face and his stomach had a large gash in it. Stephen came towards the man, bending down in the pool of the man’s blood…what could he do? The man was dying. His hands were shaking as he got his medic supplies out of his pack. Tearing them open, he was about to do anything, sticking anything into the man to make him live but the body stopped moving and the eyes became dull. The man had died in Stephen’s arms.

Stephen pushed the body away from him and stood up, stepping in something disgusting and turned around to see the intestines of a young boy. He wretched and backed away to the window, the scene in front of him was horrible…who would do this? Edward couldn’t have…surely…surely not…but he had gone, silently and without telling Stephen…how could he kill an innocent family? HOW?!

A serge of anger welled up in Stephen at the thought, how dare someone slaughter a family just because…because why? Why had Edward done it?

The dead body of the girl lay near by, he took a deep breath and knelt down, feeling sick as he saw the mangled body, from what he could see her spine had been broken because of the odd angle it was in…her head was off to one side and her spine lay twisted, blood covered every part of the body.

A small boy’s body was in the corner, killed wickedly as well, another boy, older than the two children was lying on the ground, his thigh had been cut and specks of blood covered the walls from that wound.

And then the mother, the woman of the house was lying, dead like her family. Her throat had been slit with one swift movement by the look of things.
Killing a woman, surely no one would do that, no one would have the heart to kill a helpless woman...but Edward or who ever had slaughtered this family did have the heart to kill children, and women.

Tears sprung to his eyes; if Stephen hadn’t come here then maybe this family wouldn’t be lying dead on the floor right now. It made Stephen feel it was his fault for this family’s death. He couldn’t leave them here, he had to bury them somehow, give them a final resting place. Stepping over the bodies, he grabbed his medical kit which was covered in blood like his uniform and stuffed it into his pack.

He glanced around, how to go about this? He had a feeling that Germans were around but he didn’t know where, Edward could have marched his men south towards the front lines so Stephen had some time to himself…he hoped.

He walked back out into the hallway and set his pack down on the floor near the door, keeping his rifle with him he stepped out into the backyard, he couldn’t bury the adults, but the two younger children he could. Stepping back into the house and towards the master bedroom, he picked the girl up gingerly, her head flopping to one side as he looked down at the lifeless form.

He couldn’t do this…he couldn’t bury her…why…why? He lay her back down on the floor, stepping away, shaking his head and feeling physically sick…he couldn’t…couldn’t….

He stepped out of the bedroom quickly, grabbing his pack, he had to get out of here, and he couldn’t spend his day burying the people of the house who may have turned him over to the Nazis if Ed hadn’t been there…

He stepped out into the front garden, the sun shone brightly as if nothing had happened. His uniform was covered with specks of blood but that would have to do, he would explain it to some CO later that he had killed someone or what ever. Glancing back at the house, he sighed, and began to make his way slowly down the track. Turning, he got one more look at the farmyard, and made his way towards one of the ploughed fields, he would go across country to get to the lines…going by the road was too dangerous…

[Daniel Brennan]

Mod Post

No combat (between two members...) in this thread, so CP isn't very good.

CP:
McMillan - Everybody's favourite lovable psychopath: You are a complete nutter. 16CP

Colly: Can't you put JT on a leash or something?! 15CP

Promotion!
Stephen Colly has been promoted to Corporal for frequent neutral RPing over a long period of months. I presume you want this promotion, but I can... take it away if you don't.


~Dan