Broken Soldier Novels & Stories

When I woke up that day my life ended. They say that I saved my squad's life that day and for that, I got a medal of honor. But no medal can make up for what I lost that day. My leg. I am supposed to be a hero but I am not, I am a broken man. Nobody wants a broken man, they need a hero. A broken man does not get the girls, he gets to be lonely. My only wish now is to meet someone that is going to take me for who I am, a broken soldier.

So I had no idea what horrors I would come to. “In here, healer.” The soldier who had been accompanying me stopped suddenly, almost making me bump into him. When I had regained my composure, I noticed that we were outside one of the healing chambers and there were drops of blood all over the floor. Swallowing my nervousness, I entered the room only to have my heart almost leap out of my chest. The soldier was lying on the bed unconscious and there was blood all over him. However, the scariest part wasn’t the blood but the three deep claw marks on his abdomen that had cut through skin right down to the bone.

In the other drawer, are my firearms, the ones on the smaller side that is. I made my way towards the humongous walk-in closet and over to the big drawers, I left empty before placing my bigger guns in. They were all in their cases, my snipers, rifles, machine guns, then the rest. I put my bazooka in its own drawer away from the other bazookas. This one was special. I had it customized so that it had diamond embeddings on it.

He looked harmless and normal like this. But he knew better. That under all that fragility was a broken and dangerous man…. a well-trained mad man. Eddie Kolwasky may have been discharged from active duty for years now, but he was still a soldier… the worst kind. One with nothing to lose and too much obsession burning inside him. A man like that… if he snapped in the wrong direction or at the wrong time… even he wasn’t certain he’d walk away scot-free.

It was a beautiful sight, one that contrasted starkly with the death and destruction around me. As I continued my walk, I came across a group of wounded soldiers. They lay on the ground, groaning in pain, their bodies broken and battered. Some were missing limbs, while others had been shot through the chest. I knelt beside them, offering what little comfort I could. I had been trained as a medic, but the injuries before me were beyond my expertise. One of the rogues grabbed my hand, his eyes pleading. "Please," he whispered. "Don't let me die here." I knew that his fate was out of my hands, but I stayed with him, holding his hand until his last breath.

“But you’re the first one to have broken me first, Ray. I can admit that. You broke me into tiny little pieces when your boss took Lena from me. Because of you, I’m no longer a man.” I straighten my spine. “Do you know what that means for you? It means I have no humanity left in me. No empathy. No guilt. Nothing. I could do this all fucking day, and even when your body gives out, I’d just bring it back again.” Tears spill from the corners of his eyes, but they have no effect on me. “I’m s-sorry, man. It wasn't me, I'm just a soldier following orders.”

Their life is harder just because of the never ending war between the Arland Soldiers and Sans Serif terrorist here in Simpkins. She walks away from the place of the explosion, she needs to breathe and think for a while, she don't want to cry in front of them and she feels, ashamed if she sees Sergeant Herrera crying again. She tries not to cry, but she can't control her tears falling down to her cheeks and this moment she thinks about their friends who has been heading here too, where are they at this moment and how is their life been going through. She back to the Place of North Simpkins and the soldiers is busy in building the tents for the temporary shelter of the people of the North Sim

The Wallbreakers, elite soldiers trained to fight ghosts and vampires, were suddenly locked in a steel box with eleven biological horrors. One of the creatures, more animal than man, let out a shriek that shattered the light fixtures and leaped. It slammed into a Wallbreaker, its claws, elongated and black, tearing through the ceramic armor as if it were cardboard. The soldier’s rifle discharged once, uselessly, before he was torn in half.

Shocked, she hurried over to my bed. "Where does it hurt?" she asked. "Why are you crying? Doctor! Quick, take a look at him and find out what's wrong!" After the doctor had examined me, he instructed me not to get too agitated. "Mr. Yarrow, you're currently using an artificial heart. Besides that, both your legs were severely injured and suffered extensive nerve damage, so it's highly likely that you'll be crippled for life. The best thing for you right now is to keep your emotions calm and stable."

The soldiers looked at one another and eventually one of them slowly moved forward. He was walking with a limp because there was an open wound on his left leg. The cut was deep and it was bleeding very badly. Mana approached him and stretched out his arms towards him. The soldier hesitated for a brief moment and took his webbed hands. With Mana's support, he moved next to the table. Mata put a chair in front of him and he took his seat. "Thank you, Mr. Fishheads." The soldier said and smiled at Mana and Mata. He was in pain, but he was smiling.