Broken Soldier Novels & Stories

He turned it excessively, and broke it with a loud SNAP. Then he grabbed the soldier’s gun in midair, fired on another soldier, and killed him. ~ A bedraggled Drenn sat on the floor of the dirty, grimy hab with his head buried in his hands. He was drenched in sweat and covered in blood, some of which had long since dried. By his side was a heavy pistol, but it was empty. It too was covered in blood. As he lamented his position, a notification came on his DI. Although he initially blocked it, it quickly came right back.

I told myself over and over I had no choice. Axen PoV Past When I finally woke up I felt calmer but very weak. I was in a lush bed with soft smooth sheets. I looked at my hands and arms and they were carefully bandaged. I can't really remember getting hurt but then again it was all a blur.

She bolted upright, her heart pounding wildly in her chest, ready to fight off whatever threat had found her. But then she saw him. Alec. He was kneeling beside her, his hands moving with delicate care as he wrapped a bandage around her wrist. His face was smeared with dirt and blood, his silver eyes dulled by exhaustion. His usual strength and vitality were gone, replaced by a fragile weariness that made him look older, more worn. His body was a tapestry of injuries—deep gashes along his arms, bruises blooming across his chest, and a particularly nasty wound on his shoulder that still oozed blood.

I turned around to Damien only to find him unconscious with all the pain and screaming of his. "Friend?-" I spat the word, "I was never your friend......not when you chose to betray me" I muttered and punched his unconscious face before I left the room in anger. Damien's POV My eyes slowly opened only to find darkness. I groaned in pain when I moved my leg. I glanced down to my leg and gasped, my breath shaking as the pain became stronger. My leg...it...it was chopped off....it was gone. Tears filled my eyes and the pain was growing. That monster....that motherfucking devil. I will ruin him...I will fucking kill him.

His arm… God. His arm was shredded, blood pouring from jagged wounds where shrapnel had ripped through flesh. Bone gleamed pale beneath the mess. He shrieked, screaming, blood spraying across the cave floor. “Medic!” someone shouted. We didn’t have a medic. We barely had bandages. “He’ll bleed out!” another cried, trying to hold him still. The soldier’s eyes rolled, wild with panic. “We have to take it off,” one voice said flatly.

A soldier approached, young, maybe twenty, with a crossbow slung over his shoulder and burns covering half his neck. His eyes flicked between us, landing on me with barely concealed horror. "What... what happened out there? Where are the others?" Marcus didn't answer, he just kept walking while the soldier followed. "Marcus, I asked you a question. Gregor, Hale, the triplets, where are they?" "Not now, Davies." "Not now?" The soldier's voice rose. "We sent thirty-two warriors with you! You come back with this outsider and half your face burnt off, and you tell me to wait?"

The second I pulled my arm away a fourth broken rib makes itself known. "Sorry. I was just trying to help you up. I didn't mean to hurt you. He's gone by the way so you're safe. Shit I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner, it looks like he did some damage. Are you ok?" I hear the mans voice again, Dimitri I think. He sounds genuinely concerned, weird.

I heard them in the distance growl loudly, ready to take on those enemy fuckers. But then I felt something sharp push into my shoulder, followed by enough pain to make me shout out and fall to the ground. A soldier stood in front of me, his face black and blue and his nose clearly broken. A few teeth were missing too. "I will make you pay for what you did to my face." "I like it better this way," I said before trying to kick him, but it was like there was no fucking strength left in my body. "Wolfsbane in the air, wolfsbane in the bullets, and wolfsbane on my knife," he said, waving the knife around in the air.

Even with three fingers missing and a shattered kneecap, he just stared at the floor, his breathing shallow and ragged. "He’s not talking, Boss," Timothy said, sounding frustrated. "He’s gone into shock. I don't think we’re getting anything out of him." I turned back to the soldier. He was a wreck, a heap of broken flesh and ruined pride. He looked up at me, his vision clearly filled with unbridled hatred. "Go... to... hell," he wheezed, the words barely audible. I knelt in front of him, my shadow looming over his broken form.

"Listen. You are the man who pulled me out of a blaze. You are the most competent, the most honorable human being I have ever known. This is trash. This is nonsense." "Not rubbish to them!" Sabe exclaimed, frantically energy coursing through him. He thrashed his hands about over the laptop. "It's the truth! It's the story! And it's the one that everybody will believe! The loopy ex-soldier who finally broke! It's a sweeter story than the truth! It's neat! It's easy!" He was panting in ragged breaths, on the verge of hyperventilating. The memories of what had been prior to that and the devastation of what now stood were colliding, and he was shattering in the impact.