Four Days Later
The tension persisted like rust on metal.
During inspection of the cargo holds, Joshua had been assigned to check an isolated compartment. The movement of war intensified the patrols. The South Atlantic strait was a strategic point. The national Navy and its allies blocked the route. Enemy submarines could infiltrate at any time, day or night. It was a war of nerves.
The hold was silent, with only the hum of the machines vibrating through the hull. Joshua patrolled the supply compartment.
The light flickered under the cold lamps—the only illumination in that frozen night. His shift would end soon, and the young man longed for his warm bed.
He was alone.
Or thought he was.
ZIMCKI! BACK!
He really wasn't!
The bang of the door slamming shut echoed.
A vile face appeared under the dim lights.
"Well, look who's all alone…" It was Ramires. "The little bitch's lapdog," he added, with a crooked smile tugging at his lips.
He wasn't alone. Helmer and another soldier followed close behind.
PACK, PACK, PACK…
Their heavy footsteps echoed through the empty corridor.
Joshua snorted, disbelieving, glaring at them with disdain.
"Came in a pack? How original."
"We just came to say hi to our new little buddy," Helmer threw his arm around Joshua's shoulder, a false camaraderie that felt more like a rope tightening around his neck.
The rookie didn't move. His gaze never left Ramires.
TUM, TUM, TUM…
I'm scared.
His stomach twisted, his muscles tensed. Yet courage isn't the absence of fear—and Joshua had plenty of courage.
"I'll give you a chance to apologize. Do that, and I'll go easy. Just a few punches where they won't leave marks. That pretty little hero face of yours stays intact. What do you say? It's a fair price for disrespecting me in front of the others." Ramires exhaled arrogance, convinced he controlled everything.
Joshua laughed with contempt.
"Hahaha! A cowardly Sergeant acting like a schoolyard bully. You're worse than I thought."
Ramires narrowed his eyes, fists already clenched.
"This little shit just keeps running his mouth, Helmer. I've had enough of this crap."He stepped forward and jerked his chin.
"Hold him. I want the first hit."
The two advanced. Helmer and the other soldier grabbed Joshua by the arms. The rookie tried to break free, but had no chance. Ramires rolled his shoulder, preparing the strike.
"You'll learn there's a price for opening your mouth."
The punch landed dry and hard, straight to the jaw. The Corporal was thrown against a steel beam. The impact echoed through the corridor. He fell on his side, his face scraping against the floor, but at least he was free from the soldiers' grip.
He pushed himself up with a groan, staggering, his face already bleeding. He spat on the ground, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
"You call that a punch?" he panted, trying to smile.A smile painted in red.
TUM, TUM, TUM…
Ramires took a step back, surprised. For a moment, he hesitated.
"This crazy bastard…" he snarled, furious.
He charged again. Fast. But this time Joshua dodged at the last second and landed a punch straight to the Sergeant's nose, sending him stumbling backward. The dry crack of bone echoed.
Silence.
It lasted a second.
The others rushed Joshua again, holding him while striking him. The first blow hit his stomach, the second his ribs. He countered with a kick to Helmer's leg, knocking him off balance, and spun to hit the third with an elbow to the jaw—but another strike came in. The blow grazed him just enough to knock him off balance.
He collapsed to his knees.
No time to breathe. A kick slammed into his ribs. A foot to his stomach hurled him back. He tried to rise, but a knee strike brought him down again.
"Who the hell do you think you are, rookie? A superhero?" Helmer mocked.
"Playing the martyr now, huh?" the third sneered.
"You're doing this for a whore who isn't even yours." Ramires spat, wiping blood from his nose with his sleeve. "Bet she won't even thank you for being her little dog."
TUM, TUM, TUM…
Joshua tried to shield himself, raising his arms. A kick slammed into his shoulder. Another, into his ribs. He was being crushed—punch after punch, kick after kick.
"Give up already, motherfucker, or we'll kill you!"
Still, the rookie didn't yield. He didn't beg.
He struck back when he could—elbows, fists, even biting if he had to. But there were three of them. His eyes swelled shut. Blood ran down his chin, his forehead. He tried to breathe, but the air barely came.
What the hell am I doing here?
He tried to think, but the blows clouded his mind.
Am I going to die for the honor of a stranger?
He tried to remember his sister. Her face. But everything blurred. Marin didn't look like her. That wasn't it. It wasn't her face… love? No, that wasn't it.
It was something burning in his chest. Unexplainable. A strange connection.
Another kick sent him sprawling. He stayed there, trying to shield himself with his elbows, swallowing blood and humiliation.
The sound of the beating still echoed. Yet inside, everything fell silent. The pain was so overwhelming it became something else. Almost a numbness.
Maybe that was it.
Maybe it would end here.
It was war, after all.
One more body, one less body…
ZIMCKI!
The door burst open violently.
The screech of metal cut through the savagery.
A sudden pause.
They all turned.
TUM, TUM, TUM…
It was Marin.Standing at the door, her eyes gleaming like a predator's in the dark.
She didn't have to say a word.
Her presence alone was enough to freeze the blood of all three.
To be continued…