Dog of War
#1 of Dogs of War
Prolog: A body lay strewn on the floor, blood pooling from the lupine's mouth and from a hold in the back of his head. The cold tile floor misted slightly from the last dying breath from the dead figure. He was laying at the edge of the bed, his legs spread under slightly, the frilly edging landing daintily along his thighs.. A splattered ring haloed the wall behind where he had sat. A cooling revolver was clasped in his hand, the gray metal contrasting with the black of the fur, and the clean speckled blue of the tiled floor. His large golden lupine eyes that had gleamed were opaque and lusterless; the ears were limp, hanging forwards. A note was clutched in his other bloody hand. The paper brown, speckled lightly with ruby droplets. My name is Corporal Lucian La'chance; I am a dog of war. I lived and fought for a war that has taken many lives, many senseless killings for an unclear cause. Many of my former friends joined with me. I use the term friends loosely. I watched them as they were sent back home in coffins. I was the one who gave the regretful news whenever I was back from the war, during the brief periods of leave. I was the one who had to offer a nonexistent reason. I would bare the angered glares from the families, and tearful mourning from sweet hearts. Words would turn to ash in my mouth, yet I would say them anyway. I hated my life there; I hated myself for being the only one to survive, as friends died around me. I write this note so that any who read it know that this is my story and it ends with another... In war, there are no heroes; death makes the final mockery of man. I simply wish for my story to be told. * * *
The night was still the darkness only broken by the occasional straying bombshell, letting bright white flashed flood over the shattered no-man's land. Streaks of gun fire spat through the shadows that broke the forces. Each glowing stream flying far over the trenches hitting the large wall behind it. Shouts from both sides echoed forlornly through the land, the agony emanating from the make-shift infirmaries and the screams of those caught in the flying shrapnel. Slowly a number of men lined up along the inside of the trenches, their faces grim. The short plastered by the incessant rain, the mud dribbled down into the trenches, sloping around the drenched and moldy boots. Not one of them looked up, a march to their deaths in a cause that was not their own. A sergeant walked in front of the line, inspecting the subdued men. The bear held a whip like stick, he struck a slouching private's chest. Shouting an order at him. The private complied, sucking in his chest, but still keeping the forlorn expression. He didn't yelp, he didn't move aside from breathing. Each man readied himself. The ursine sighed heavily, his uniform sagged on the drenched body. He reached into his pocket and held up a small golden whistle, tarnished from heavy use. He looked towards a shadowed figure, it was standing a hand pressed against the dripping mud of the wall, holding something to its ear. The figure turned slowly towards the bear. A bombshell illuminated the black fox's features. The vulpine motioned towards the ladders pressed against the walls of the trench. The bear nodded. He pushed the whistle to his lips, holding it between two fingers he blew roughly. The whining sound rose above the sounds of gunshots and bombshells. The men started to walked towards the ladders. Scaling them quickly, as instructed they moved solemnly towards no-man's land. Gun fire and shouts quickly followed their accent. The ursine winced at every bang of the smoking barrels. The fox simple stared silently at the top of the trench. A figure scrabbled back, jumping back down off the trench top, landing in a bad roll on the bottom. He stood precariously, unsure what happened, the white light illuminated the stag's brownish coat. He'd been shot in the shoulder, blood seeped from the wound. He stumbled towards the black fox. The vulpine tried to back away, shielding himself with his hands to fend off the figure. A gunshot resonated through the confined trench, hot liquid sprayed onto the fox. He opened an eye carefully; a large hole framed a gray furred wolf, behind the stag. A barreled of the revolver smoked languidly. There was a large assortment of heavily polished badges and medals. The male re-holstered the revolver. Wiping away some of the blood that had managed to splatter onto the leather gloves. He looked at the stag in disgust as the limp body toppled forwards, landing next to the fox. "This nation's got no room for cowards." The gruff voice was dismissive towards the dead stag. With a flourish the wolf stalked off, the well maintained uniform contrasting with the broken trenches. ~~~~~~Across the No-man's land: Lucian.~~~~~~~ Lucian woke again; nightmares from his comrade's dying faces kept him awake, only to be deafened the sirens and bombs. Lucian was covered in a cold sweat, sapping away the warmth from his bed, plastering his fur wetly to his skin. The mourning calls of the air raid horns echoed throughout stagnant night; lone gun shots marked the no-man's land between the allied and the enemy. Lucian walked out from the barracks, those on night watch were busy trying to light their cigarettes. Lucian walked around the dank trench, thick slime coating the wall with a foul miasma. Small foul vermin chittered at his passage, before continuing to crawl through the muck. Crows lined the trees, waiting for the crop of fresh bodies. The sun peeked over the horizon, spilling light across the scarred land. Lucian had still not slept, his eyes burned in the fresh light. Dust clouds rose in the distance. 'At least a new shipment of Raws' Lucian thought idly to himself. He made his way through the still sleeping guards to the drop point. His boots sloped through the churned mud, the wooden planks, that had previously made walk ways, had long since sunk into the decaying slime. He rounded the corner, where the trenches petered out to level off into a downward slope, leaving all the mud and slime in the trenches with no hope of escape. Lucian waited as the run-down bus pulled up, he noticed the lack of silhouettes in the stained windows that sat above the peeling and splattered colorless paint. A grizzled wolverine stepped down out of the bus, his stripes vibrant against his green vest. A single small fox followed him; clutching a ruck-sack as though the last thing in the world. His hair fell in a mess around his face, the blonde locks contrasting with his dark orange coat, giving him a halo of sorts. His hands ended in black furred gloves, matching the tips of his ears. His eyes darted back and forth through the poor excuse for a war trench, fearfully staring at muddy and stagnant burrows they had been calling hell. "Yer got a problem Private?" The Sergeant said menacingly at Lucian, catching him off guard as he stared at the timid fox. Lucian, raising his arm in a curt salute, "Squad Thirteen, Pickup duty sir." Tried to regain the previous control he had. "Right you are then. Just the one." He pointed over his shoulder, the fox flinched at the movement. The wolverine used a ham hand to shove the fox towards Lucian; before climbing onto the now leaning bus, he snorted dismissively as the bus fired up again.. Lucian looked down on the whimpering fox, huddled close to him. The bus's engine flared spewing thick black fumes around the area. Lucian felt his eyes water; the timid fox coughed in the noxious fumes. "Name?" Lucian stated calmly in contrast from his thoughts. A thick fog rolled in from the forests surrounding the battle zone. The fox looked up at him, meekly saying. "Private James Rodgers... sir." The fox, whimpered in the trench's dank and cold musk. Rats chittered at the new arrival, masking the sound from the distant guns. Lucian placed a hand on the fox's shoulder, trying to be as reassuring as he could, he felt sorry for him, probably heard wondrous things about the war, or was threatened by his family. The fox's coat was bristled out against the cold mists. Lucian smiled inwardly, allowing the corner of his lips to rise, he worried about the green recruit, he was probably going to end up meat for the grinder, much like the rest of them. Lucian sighed, the breath whitening in the morning air. "Welcome to hell..." Lucian said quietly, as he looked around the trenches, his arms raised to show the surroundings. Lucian eye's examined the fox, the satchel didn't seem to hold terribly much, he wondered where he was going to sleep, few beds had opened up. Lucian turned briskly, taking a couple of steps down the trenches, before looking over his shoulder, checking if he had followed. The fox stared wide eyed at the sights in the trenches, the lavatories, holes in the ground; the infirmary, screaming and moaning echoing out from the tent flap; the mess hall, appropriately named, the mud churned easily beneath the tide of booted feet. Lucian tried as best he could to steer him away from the less than savory parts, such as the detention facility, best to show him later. Lucian rounded the bend, the fox in close tow. Snores quietly reverberated from the small barracks, Lucian hesitated slightly before checking for a bed, a flicker of worry crossed his face as he spotted the free bed. He swore quietly but walked in, there was a slight stirring from the sleeping bodies as they both entered. Lucian pointed at the bed in the far corner, the most sheltered, if a bit damp. The fox quickly hurried over, dumping his small bag on the bed, and rummaging through, pulling out clothing and thrusting them into the trunk that sat at the end of his bed. Lucian checked his watch, pulling back a damp sleeve to reveal the gleaming face, the second hand ticked away. The sergeant should be here any time now, he preferred to wake the recruits himself. Lucian half smiled as a large tiger walked in, carrying an equally large bell. A wicked smiled played across his face, Lucian dived out from the barracks. The gongs started, followed by the strangled sounds of recruits waking harshly. The vibrations carried through Lucian's spine, echoing inside his head. He stepped uneasily back into the barracks, the fox sat huddled on his small cot, the others stood up blearily, pulling together clothes. "That's the new recruit..." The sergeant paused, all faces turned towards the cowering figure in the back, a mutter followed by a hushed laugh came from the small group of soldiers, each casting glances and leers at the fox, Lucian felt a pang of pity for him, he didn't know what they did as a hazing now but he hoped he wouldn't have to step in. "Now you're all awake we've got patrol that won't do itself." The tiger glared at the rabble, silently daring any of them to moan, silence echoed painfully through the tight barracks. Lucian cursed silently, before darting out the door, following the sergeant, the mud sloshing through the thin walls of his issue boot. The cold seeped quickly through the worn leather. The sergeant pulled him into a corner of the trench, pulling him by the scruff of his shirt, Lucian gave a choked yelp in surprise. The sergeant had a kindly grin on his face; he shoved his hand in his pocket, fishing for something in the deep crevasses. Lucian stood at attention, his hand hard against his forehead. "I just had it..." The tiger muttered to himself, the rising light reflected of his now silvered hair. "Ah here... And now...' The tiger coughed heavily, the cold and years of dirty cigarettes had gotten into his lungs. The tiger stuck out a hand, a star and strip lay within the wrinkles. "My petition got through last morning... they replied straight away; I think they had been waiting for the opportunity. You've got a great road ahead of you." The tiger gave a large smile; Lucian reached out hesitantly, picking up the cold metal in his hand. He saluted the sergeant, blushing slightly as he pinned it on the strip would have to wait. "Ya won't get any formalities here kid, ther life expectancy of your job isn't long." He added with a rueful smile. "Uh... Thank you sir." Lucian immediately saluted again. "Now now, you just call me Morgan, it'll not be long before you're giving orders to me." The sergeant smiled, slapping him on his back, he laughed kindly, his face breaking out into wrinkles. Lucian quickly polished the now gleaming star, he hadn't been there that long. Lucian smiled up at Morgan, he slid the strip into his pocket. He silently thanked the gods, he now had a private bunk, away from the damp barracks. "So sir shall I move my stuff?" Lucian stepped back into the trenched, the sergeant leading the way for a short while. He didn't reply, instead strolling down the mud strew walkways. He quickly turned down several other routes , stopping outside a door, a clean slate had been placed on the door frame. 'Lucian Les'tat - Corporal - Squad Thirteen' Lucian quickly ducked inside, the rudimentary housing. The walls had been boarded up, blocking out the seeping mud, the floors had thick planks hewn roughly together, there was a desk, a small book shelf, what could be mistaken as a kitchen and a small cot tucked away into the corner. "Well the housing is infinitely better... so why is it this good?" Lucian asked dubiously, knowing there would be a catch. He looked around the wooden room, checking for a problem, he walked into the kitchen area. "Ah... well for once there isn't a catch, you even have a spare bed, if your other breaks." The sergeant followed him, pointing out the bed leaning against the wall in another room, Lucian hadn't noticed. Lucian walked back into the main room, looking over the bed and desk, all his thing had been moved already. "Two rooms... Two beds... no catch?" Lucian raised an eyebrow still slightly wondering, but decided not to press his chances. "Either way... what's my first role?" Lucian walked over to his desk, looking for any paperwork, the desk had a thick layer of dust coating the previously polished surface. "Well...' The sergeant stated grandly. "You're to take them out on an exercise patrol." The tiger sighed agedly, his face breaking into lines again. He absently fingered his silvery lighter. Lucian smiled. "Right it is... think they'll be up now then." Lucian tried to hide his excitement at the promotion. He wondered if they'd take order from him, it was squad thirteen after all. "Well if they aren't they'll regret it." The sergeant walked back out the door, Lucian quickly in tow. Small groups of soldiers mulled around over cups of tea; passing a glowing cigarette between them, wisps of steam rose from the mugs whilst the holders waited for the mess hall to prepare the breakfast. Lucian quickly dived in, returning with two mugs, the thick scent of tea filled the small air. He handed one to Morgan, remembering his fondness for the army brand colored water. They walked in silence, shouts echoed from the barrack. He saw the sergeant speed up his pace, most likely another fight had started, most of the unruly privates were posted in this squad. The rounded the door, revealing a fighting pair. A large bear and a stag had gotten into another fight. Fists flew, small patches of blood littered the floor. The other room mates were trying to break them up, one being elbowed in the face violently, he jumped back, his hands clasping his nose, crimson blood flowed freely from the damaged nose. The tiger nodded to Lucian, he grabbed a couple of the observers, knowing that shouting wouldn't stop the fight. Lucian ran up behind the pair, the sergeant grabbed a mattress, a groan came from the owner. Throwing it on the pair, Lucian followed by two of the other privates jumped on them, there was a shout from somewhere beneath him, the mattress bucked and kicked as the pair underneath desperately tried to get an advantage one another. He saw the sergeant grabbed the kicking ankles of the bear, his face straining as he pulled him out. Lucian was partly used to this, they had stopped the fighting before many times, usually between these two, for whatever reason the mattress seemed to work the best. Lucian wriggled his way out from the pile, moving backwards crawling out onto the floor. The sergeant appeared, holding a struggling bear, his arm pinned far up along his back. The stag managed to crawl out as well, rubbing his head he fell down on a spare bed, blood dripped from many cuts on his face and body, the unhealed scabs on his back had opened again. Lucian looked around the barracks, the pair were panting heavily, the fox whimpered in the corner. Lucian swore, he grabbed the stag by the scruff of the neck, knowing he was in no state to fight back; he shoved him out the door, ordering him to the infirmary. Knowing the butchers would have some fun with him. Morgan led out the still struggling bear, over to the detention facility. Lucian turned back to the rabble. The wounded bystander was trying to stifle the bleeding. "For god's sake go to the infirmary!" Lucian shouted at the pitiful creature, he was in no mood for this, that was the third fight this week. He knew that it would only end in more bloodshed. Hell of a way to start a promotion, hell of a way set an impression. "We're on patrol. Now get your stuff and let's go." He said lowly, his face stung slightly from where a spare fist had met it; he knew Morgan would take care of the pair. He walked over the cowering fox; he picked up an issue rucksack, shoving a couple of necessities into it before handing it to the fox. Lucian looked at the fox, examining his body, the lack of muscles, he inwardly swore, it was going to be hard on him. Lucian sat by the door as he waited for them to get packed; he had watched the other corporals so he knew a bit about the job. He was mainly there to shout at the privates so they remembered their orders. It wasn't long before they had assembled in front of the barrack, Lucian knew the drill, he walked along the line, checking that they had gotten everything. The fox came out last his rucksack, hanging unbuckled by his feet, he hurriedly tried to set his uniform right, before picking up the bag again, standing at attention like cliché soldier. A whip cracked in the morning silence, followed quickly by a pained shout. The fox whimper quietly, his bottom lip trembled. Lucian hesitated in front of the fox, his eyes darting over the coarse uniform. Lucian silently made a mental note to talk to the boy, he seemed shaken up by life in the trenches. The war was a chance to travel the world, at least that's what they say. He could see the shock clearly in the boy's eyes; a small part of Lucian was that naive once, and it was beaten down by life in the ranks. Now his army self danced on that young grave. "Right... let's go." Lucian said loudly, about to turn down a trench. One of the squad mates looked up at Lucian, snapped from his momentary delusion. A dragon. "And why should we listen to you?" The dragon stared levelly at Lucian, a slight hint of detest in his eyes. Lucian turned, holding out the pinned star for all to see. He shoved it in the sneering face of the Dragon, he didn't know the private's name. He never bothered to learn them, it seemed to help if you didn't know the person being shipped back home. "Been promoted. Now I'm in charge and you will bloody follow my orders." He said bluntly. The sound of a whip cracking across bare skin punctuated his words, the bear howled in the distance. He quickly turned, knowing they would follow, he turned the corner of the trenches, hearing the mud sloshing behind him. The dragon looked back angrily at Lucian, his eyes boring into the wolf. He looked at the others, his eyes falling on the fox who was staring after Lucian. The fox took a step hesitantly forwards, before speeding up, trying to keep hold of his pack whilst catching up with Lucian. The line of men slowly diminished as one by one the men follow suit. The dragon was left on his own before he too followed, albeit grudgingly. * * *
~South end of the trenches near the forest~
- * * He strolled with them in tow to the end of the trenches, heading towards the forests surrounding the battle field. He stood at the entrance of the trenches, breathing in the misted still morning air, the light shone hazily through the wisps, struggling through the thick fog. Lucian sighed his breath misted in the cold air outside packed trenches. There was a long silence, each of them wanting to tear his head off. But knowing that it'd be painful to try anything, especially in the mood Lucian happened to be in. It was a routine guard patrol through the forest, for some reason the commander always feared someone sneaking up on his rear, so the majority of his patrol's time was spent walking through the forests poking through rather guilty looking bushes. It would be an uneventful patrol, as it was the time before that and the time before that. There was no way for the enemy to sneak around the trenches. Maybe a lone gunman but that would be it, no tanks could make it through the land mines. Lucian sighed, letting his hair fall down around his face while he waited for the recruits to catch up. Would he have been a smoker he would have lit a cigarette, yet Lucian was no smoker, he never liked the taste. He tipped the species designed custom helmet, idly scratching underneath the hot metal. He turned around, surprised to see the fox as the first one to turn up. He had a slightly worried look, his eyes concernedly darting around whilst focusing on Lucian. His vulpine helmet was awkwardly balanced on his head. Lucian looked behind him, none of the other squad mates showed up. He idly wondered if they had disobeyed him, he smiled slightly in triumph as they sheepishly skulked around the corner. He felt something close to him, very close. Lucian looked down and to his right, the fox stood, huddled within himself, while still managing to get as close to Lucian without actually touching him. Lucian stepped away from the fox, using a brief order as an excuse to break the awkward closeness. "Right... Fall in." It wasn't a needed order but he still felt he needed to say it. It just showed that he meaned business. The soldiers stood together in a makeshift line, each of them crestfallen. The dragon stood on the end, Lucian could feel the smoldering anger. He looked over them quickly, not really bothering with their attire, life in the trenches didn't allow for much pride in clothing or cleanliness. He sighed, their uniform was in a sorry state, it wasn't that it was covered in mud, though there was an unforgiving amount of the stinking brown substance, it was more that they lacked the zeal to wear the uniform. Lucian smiled lopsidedly to himself, the fox was the cleanest one, his uniform probably still smelt of the cleaners after got the body out of it. At least since they were on patrol they'd get the rest of the day off, it was some loop hole in the routine that nobody wanted to point out. Lucian walked into the forest, making sure his men were following him, he couldn't help but smile slightly as the idea of being in charge. At least something amounted out of him coming into the army, they pay had to be better as well. The men walked solemnly, quietly, their eyes down glaring at the leaf strewn forest floor. The fox had a slightly lighter attitude, as if the forest shielded the sounds of war. He ran to catch up with Lucian, his pack bouncing slightly as he did. Lucian kept his eyes on the horizon's edge. 'The fox was naive, he'd get himself killed like that.' Lucian thought to himself.They walked in silence, the fox looked curiously up at him every now and again. Lucian guessed he was somewhere near sixteen if that, the blood on the field was getting younger and younger. He smiled idly as he remembered a propaganda poster, it showed a cub holding a gun in a diaper, with their army's colors on the diaper. It was slightly funny, if you thought about it, and the fact that in the war zone comedy came in short supply. "So... uh... You're the... guy in charge... Right?" The young voice asked somewhere near Lucian's side. Lucian didn't answer at first, he looked around the forest, it was the first checkpoint. He made a quick signal with his hand, the men started to spread out slowly, the fox moved slightly into what would've been his position, before he moved back over to Lucian. He opened his mouth to ask again. "Yea..." Lucian answered the question, he tried to make his voice gruffer, it didn't turn out to well, he wasn't suited to the hard leader role. "Yes..." He repeated with a kinder tone, deciding the fox would have enough to deal with. "I'm corporal Lucian Les'tat." Lucian finished with a slight played grandeur. The fox watched Lucian for a bit, as if deciding something. He opened his mouth again. "I'm... J-" "James Rodgers, Private... who should get back into his position." Lucian answered with a slight bit of force. The routine was simple, you walked through the forest, poked a couple of bushes from time to time, talk with the person next to you. And wait till you reach Checkpoint five, eat lunch, then go the rest of the way back. The fox closed his mouth again, he moved back into his position on the line. Lucian smiled to himself, he couldn't help but smile at the recruit's almost innocence. Still, he thought slightly sadly, the war would beat it out of him. He didn't think that because he disliked the fox. He guessed he'd be looking out for him, lest a stray sniper pick him out from a crowd. They continued the march in silence. The fox managed to move back over towards Lucian, somehow he didn't notice the shuffling movement of the vulpine. That was until the fox voiced another question. "So... uh... why did you join?" Lucian smiled as he turned to look back at the fox, he had looked away to check his men were doing their job and the fox managed to sneak back up. He smiled kindly at the fox. Lucian decided not to burden the fox with detail. "Out of service for my country." Lucian answered with a lying smile, it was a joking reply, but one that let the fox know it was a touchy subject. The fox looked up at him, slightly unsure as why he had replied with a joke, he smiled none the less. He didn't want to press the question. "Oh... yeah... same." The fox managed to reply. Lucian could tell there was something else there but he didn't ask what, instead of prying into private matters it was probably nothing. But it would be a while before they reached check point five. The awkward silence was killing him. ~~~~end of chapter 1~~~~