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KRAK!

Without even a conscious thought the shotgun fired, the familiar punch of the stock rocking through his entire body like a rolling ocean wave of sound and vibration. The pressure of the air and smoke leaving the barrel warped the air in front of his eyes blocking his view for a moment... one that he had wished never came to an end.

Markus had simply frozen, not able to react to the carnage that he had created, the rock in his stomach grew like the patch of red below the shocked mans body, dropping his axe behind him and holding the gaping wound in his side.

He wheezed out a few words, none of which Markus could understand, before his leg gave out and he sank into the cold snow. It wasn't long before Markus saw the raging fire of life in the mans eyes fizzle out into a dull blank stare.

One of the strangest thoughts forced itself into the forefront of his mind, remembering back to when he was just a young teen watching movies with his grandfather and how they watched an American war movie called Jarhead.

In the movie the snipers are constantly imagining and waiting for something they call “The fine red mist." His Deda had told him about how even the snipers in his company would celebrate it. Markus did not feel in the mood to celebrate, however. He only felt hollow and sick, like there was an empty pit in his core.

Markus was brought out of his blank stupor by a soft cry to his front, the other man falling to his knees trying to shake the man awake, but receiving no response. Markus simply stood, letting the man grieve his fallen comrade.

A moment was taken to contemplate what had just happened, he had taken the life of a human being. Before now Markus had only killed animals that had been marked for death, but this man could've had a family, friends, dreams, god sakes, this kid could even be his son! But now, all that is left of any of it simply stains the snow.

When the young man stood up, Markus vacantly stared, shotgun still loosely trained on the body. He spoke with a voice shaky as a rattlesnakes tail in that language still completely unintelligible to him, but the intent of those words was very clear.

You are going to pay.

He wiped his tears before saying his final goodbye and running away, Markus could only assume that he would be back with friends later. It was a good time to leave, he couldn't take the sickly sweet smell of death anymore. Markus took a few steps, trying to ignore the corpses to his best ability, before stopping dead in his tracks.

I'm forgetting something. He thought, the racking of his brain taking mere moments before realizing what it was. Damn it! I got so busy stuck in my own head that I forgot what I came here for in the first place!

Markus turned tail and charged the spot where the woman lay, climbing back up the shallow hill towards the place where she rested, shame welling up in his throat for forgetting such an important detail. Markus reached for his emergency medical kit but froze completely upon sighting the fallen girl, at least, what he thought to be the fallen girl.

What the fuck am I lo __o_ king at?_

The only thing that Markus could think at this moment. He was sure that this was where the woman lay, and this… thing is in her place, wrapped in the same light blue blanket as she was. It looked almost like some kind of half human half dog mix. It had short, dense brown fur, with a pale white streak running between both eyes. This pale streak being filled with strange painted symbols that Markus could glean nothing from.

Jesus Christ, am I hallucinating? He thought, his head now in a buzzing whir of different thoughts. Did I just kill all these people? He checked his belt loops, still chock full with only one shell missing from the gun. He only fired once, and despite his masculine ego arguing otherwise he knows he wouldn't be capable of such brutish bloodshed as chopping a persons arm off at the shoulder.

Markus set aside his own mental state for a moment, electing to ignore the surely incorrect information his mind was giving him. Clearly he must be having a stress related mental break. In spite of his own degraded state, he pushed himself to help the woman as best he could.

}----------+----------{

“It hurts Deda, make it stop, please!" Markus screamed, the pain of the deep cut overwhelming the boys senses, His leg leaking blood in spite of the pressure he was putting on it.

“I know it hurts Markus, but I will not always be around to take care of you. You must know how to fix things yourself if you are going to run around in the woods." Andrei replied, kneeling next to the boy. The pain in his heart from seeing his grandson hurt hidden behind the stoic mask that he had perfected in the war.

“Tell me what you know about treating a cut, Markus." Andrei softly ordered, wanting to know what Markus already knew. The Rocky Mountain snow crunched beneath his boots as he shifted towards his grandson.

Markus tried to ignore the pain for a bit to remember what his health teacher had told him, the sharp stabbing pain shooting up his leg made it difficult to remember, even if the class was only a few weeks ago.

“Agh, Stifle the bleeding, clean the wound, stitch it shut, and bandage over it?" Markus replied, still struggling to keep the valuable red fluid from escaping his body, both hands squeezing his thigh above the cut.

“Very good Markus! But do you know how to stifle the bleeding?" Andrei asked, expecting a negative or even a wrong answer.

“A tourniquet, Deda?" Markus asked, not entirely sure if that was the answer the older man was looking for. The cut above his knee still open and running Markus' nervous system ragged.

Andrei chuckled, “No no Markus, this cut is far too small to bother with tourniquet." He said before picking up some snow and speaking again. “Here, the doctors in Chechnya taught me this trick."

Andrei pressed the snow up to Markus' gaping wound, inciting a sharp gasp from Markus while he gritted his teeth, The water from the slowly melting snow mixing with his blood and rolling down the rest of his leg.

“This has two steps in one action, the cold of the snow slows your blood flow, and the melted water cleans your wound in a more numb way than with rag." Andrei said, the warm feeling of teaching one of his own blood welling up in his chest, he missed spending this kind of time with his own son.

Andrei removed his hands from the boy's leg, the blood flow nearly completely stopped, with an astonished boy looking back up at him.

“Wow Deda, I can barely even feel it! Sick!" Marcus beamed before getting out his suture kit, barely being able to feel the prick of his needle now.

Andrei chuffed at the American slang, remembering how his own boy used to use words like 'rad' 'fly' and 'totally tubular'

“Yes my Vnuk... 'sick'" Andrei parroted before helping Markus to his feet and walking towards their home, Andrei would surely be be getting a scolding from his wife for letting the boy get hurt, but he was happy anyway knowing that he had taught him something new.

}----------+----------{

Markus had never tried the snow trick on anything bigger than a good gash, but it would have to work. His small first aid pouch held only a suture kit, a few disinfectant packs and a roll of gauze. Pressing the freezing cold ice to the wound the incapacitated creature let out a soft weak sigh, a sure sign that there was at least something left to save.

The process was begun by wiping the now diluted blood away and quickly shaving the thick, matted, hopefully imaginary, fur on the things chest using the razor in his suture kit, trying to make his easily distracted eyes ignore the two very distracting small organs flanking the cut. If the fur was indeed real, and he left any attached near the wound area it could cause his bandages to detach. Even worse than that, it could cause an infection that Markus didn't have the tools to deal with.

He rinsed his blade with what little water remained in his canteen, the mixed blood and soft brown fibers gumming up his blades and ruining his strokes. Pulling the razor down her chest one more time finally gave him a clean surface to work on. He also took note that the injury didn't appear to get past the bone, giving her much better odds.

Markus jammed a pair of fingers into any place on her neck he could think of before he could find a pulse. Having no baseline for whatever this thing is, he just assumed that her heart rate wouldn't be too far off from a humans. It was way off from what he thought might be healthy, her little pumping so weakly that he could barely feel it. Hhen he finally caught the pulse she was running like a weedwhacker, startling the living hell out of the Russkie.

Markus ripped the sutures out of his pouch and threw them upon the thing, working as quickly as he could make his freezing hands move to thread the needle and start closing the wound, trying to count the stitches as he slowly shut the scrape, losing count and nearly running out of thread as he finished his final stitch.

Jamming his fingers into her neck again, Markus took another pulse, finding it to be at a speed he was more comfortable with. Markus looked to the sky and thanked whoever was up there for granting him the magic touch, before promptly taking his disinfectant wipes to the creature's wounds. The lack of response to the stinging alcohol not bothering him in the slightest. She's earned being out of it for a while.

As he put the finishing touches on the gauze packed ball of tape (medical and duct) that he called a bandage, he sat back on the heels of his boots. The events of the day had thoroughly exhausted him, both mentally and physically, but he wasn't done just yet.

Suddenly he became acutely aware of his surroundings. The dead soldiers coming back into his view now that his fluffy tunnel vision had faded, the bloodshed reminding him to stay strong and focused until he was in a better position for some R&R.

His new friend wasn't staying here, he knew that much, but Markus had packed heavy, with no stable way to carry the poor thing, and dropping her on the ground by accident was out of the question, he had to figure out a way to make one of those hands free baby carrier things.

Markus didn't like what he would have to do, defiling bodies was never okay. But if he wanted any chance of finding a way to move this thing without getting her even more hurt he would have to drop some of his decorum.

Looting bodies was not in today's plans, but then again, none of this was. He wrinkled his nose at the sound of that word, loot. To him that had an even more negative connotation than what he was doing. He simply had no other choice but to use their now claimless equipment. What was a dead man to do with his coat?

Markus first wrapped his own coat over his new snake-dog friend, despite her having the advantage of fur it was far more imperative to keep her warm rather than him, as a sleeping person (Werewolf? Otter?) couldn't tell you about hypothermia before they suddenly stopped breathing.

The first body he came across was that of a very small woman, probably no taller than 4'8, she had been killed by a crossbow bolt dead center of mass, her flimsy leather strip armor having done nothing to stop the projectile. One of her hands was still loosely gripping the bolt as if even in death she would get it out, come hell or high water.

Markus took only her coat, and topped his canteen off using hers, he didn't want to leave the woman without offering anything in return, He didn't have enough time or spare energy to dig the woman a shallow grave, so he offered a modified version of the only simple non denominational prayer that he knew for this situation. Markus wasn't particularly religious himself, but it was all he could do, and Deda made sure he knew some prayers by heart.

“I commend you, dear stranger, to your almighty God, and entrust you to your creator."

“may you rest in the arms of the one who formed you from the dust of the earth."

“May they forgive your sins, and set you among those they have chosen."

“may you see your redeemer face to face, and enjoy the vision of your creator, forever."

Markus felt just a tiny bit better, wiping the tear from his eye, he moved on to the next body. This one was the man who had been stapled to the tree by his neck, Markus gagged at the now frozen blood that had once been dribbling down the spears length. He offered the same prayer to the stranger once he had taken his coat and water, and some dried meat that looked... vaguely edible.

This continued until Markus had amassed 4 cleanish coats, an empty first-aid pouches worth of dried meat, and 4 filled canteens, until he looped back to where the thing was, and stopped, now standing directly in front of the man he killed.

Markus stayed silent and moved on, not knowing how to feel about him just yet. He also wanted to keep his mind clear, he still had the very real threat of the mans little buddy popping back out of the woods at any moment.

Kneeling next to the woman (some kind of bear with a fur mutation maybe? Though she is quite a bit too small and light for that. I can't get my mind off this.) he began to twine two of the coats together at the waist using his suture needle and some cheap rope twine. Eventually Markus had a simple bag, using the other coats to make an abdominal strap for better stability, tying the arms of the first two coats around his neck to finish his bagnum opus.

Now all Markus had to do was strap the contraption onto his body without dropping his precious cargo, far easier said than done.

He started by picking the girlish light thing up like a baby and shuffling the blanket off of her, taking note of the white strip continuing down her back with the ornate black lines filling it all the way to the tip her bushy… tail. Either a case of me strung out of my mind or natures beauty in action. I'm not sure which answer I prefer. He thought to himself, before gently stuffing the furball into his chest rig and making an impromptu hoodie with the bloodstained blanket.

He did a very quick sprint (well, the best he could do in deep snow) a short distance while hovering his arms to catch her if something broke, just to see if his ingenuity with the upper straps had worked. and it had worked flawlessly, the sewing of the coats holding up even better than he thought they would.

When the little dog person weakly coughed by his ear he felt shame for disturbing her with his childish antics, silently promising not to do so again.

With his time in this hell finished, he turned to offer his final goodbyes to those in the battlefield and quickly left. He brushed away his tracks for as far as he could bear to bend just to be safe from the eventuality of anyone looking for them.

Along the way, Markus kept careful watch for anyone, or anything, that might pose a threat, readying his shotgun for a moments notice for anything that would dare get in the way, all Markus wanted was to find a safe spot where he wouldn't be harassed by the local wildlife. Or, more likely, the local people that probably wanted him dead right now.

The stressful events of the day had put his mind on a hair trigger, ready to snap at the slightest excuse for a fight. But before his own temper could be set off by any poor wandering predator, he spotted the perfect spot to lay low. Just barely spotted in fact, which gave him confidence that it could be hidden near perfectly with little trouble.

The place he had seen was a small open cave inset into a steep hill, just tall enough to not strike his head on the ceiling rock. Its entrance was flanked on both sides by trees, with just a tiny sliver of open space in the center where he had spotted it from. All Markus would have to do to block any possible angle was cut a few trees and lay a few bushes in front of the entrance. It would still have plenty of outdoors space for a fire and anything else they would need for the perfect temporary living space.

Markus raced up to the cave, only slowing down when there was a major bump that he would need to carefully navigate, the odd balance of a warm fuzzy on his chest and a cumbersome backpack making even walking normally hard. He was simply too excited to finally have a place to rest.

Approaching the entrance, Markus stopped before he could get too far ahead of himself. This could be something else's home. He thought, quieting down and laying both of his bags to the side of the cave entrance.

He had a decision to make, Hope to find a different spot to rest before the sun went down, or potentially fight and kill whatever may occupy this cave. Markus took a quick glance at the sky, the sun already preparing to set. Markus went with the only option that he seemed to be able to take these days, and thumbed his safety.

Markus slowly and carefully tiptoed into the caves entrance, the darkness quickly enveloping him, the bright flash of his belt light enveloping the cave as he switched it on, plodding even further in.

An agonizing fear enveloped Markus' entire body, threatening to burst. He hated confined spaces like this, the crushing feeling of no escape threatening to make him exit the cave at an absolute dead sprint. He came upon the end of the straightaway and spotted a just barely man sized opening to the left.

Damn. He thought, horrified at the prospect of turning into a corner he couldn't see. But he had to do it. If he didn't, this cave would be as good as sleeping in a wolf's den.

Markus psyched himself up for a quick lunge away from the side of the wall with the hole, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the unknown as possible.

Fuck this.

}----------+----------{

Markus made a lunge for it, and… saw absolutely nothing. It was literally just a hole in the wall. Markus couldn't help but bend down, rest his shotgun on his knees and let out a nervous chuckle, glad that the danger was all in his head.

Seeing that the cave was empty, Markus quickly made a second sweep on his way back out to the improvised bag and its occupant, making sure that he hadn't missed any possible small creatures hiding in the cracks or among the rocks.

Dragging her in, he laid her near the back of the cave, and he sat slightly towards the entrance from where she lay.

Now that the day was over, he watched the sunset, and thought about his situation. Markus had killed a person. Before this, the worst thing he had ever done to someone else was give them a black eye for stealing a toy of his. Not only this, but he was caring for a creature that he didn't even know existed. He dropped the belief that she could possibly be a hallucination, everything over the entire day had been too real for him to delude himself into thinking that this strange thing was any less real than the human life that he had snuffed out.

Markus laid on his side, and cried. He had never done something this bad before, and he didn't want to. But the actions of another had given him no choice, and altered the path of his life permanently.

It wasn't long before Markus had run out of tears to let out, he had simply cried himself dry. He took a long draw from his personal canteen and shut his now sore eyes for a long night of what he expected to be exceptionally poor sleep.