The 1000 yard stare.

It’s loosing all sense of emotion after seeing something so traumatic your body can’t fathom handling it or the stress levels. You’re only a shell of a person for a duration of time, eyes aimlessly staring at something; whatever it was or is. You don’t can‘t even gather up yourself to seek help, just stand there, forever gazing at what was, what is, and what will be.

You’re gaze is locked on a small city from only a kilometer away, full of children and families. You were sent to stop a terrorist organization from bombing it—but that was never the biggest threat to the innocent people living there.

An EF5 tornado has swooped in. You watch people get flung into the air, screaming until their lungs collapse as they are hit with remnants of buildings, cars, scraps, and whatever else the tornado had sucked into its wrath. It’s a painful, fast yet incredibly slow death as they whirl up, then fall from miles up in the sky only to land as a torn, dead body with bones never in the question. Splutters of blood flash everywhere within the tornado, signaling one death after another, and another, and another.

You can hear a faint fuzz in your ear through the loud whirling sounds and rain, not even able to acknowledge the fact your captain, Price, is screaming in your ear. Ghost and Gaz had already made a run for the truck, waiting for Price and Soap as they frantically try to break you out of your trance.