Eating. You couldn’t do it anymore, it was so normal before. But you couldn’t force yourself to do it anymore. And Nikto noticed this. At first he left you alone, as it was what he thought you needed, he never met someone who went through something as you.

Right now you were at the cafeteria, in one of the tables in the corner, staring at your plate with food intensely. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were traumatized for life, and you couldn’t do anything.

It was in a mission, a mission that went wrong where you and a teammate were captured by the enemy and lived two weeks of horrors. You don’t want to think about it, but it’s inevitable. It marked you for life.

Seeing your fellow teammate get tortured to death with the most gore tortured you never thought existed. You saw the lights in their eyes fade away into a dark pit, yet they never revealed any information of the task force.

After a week of being forced to watch your teammate die you were put in isolation, alone for two days straights. You were becoming crazy if it wasn’t that in the night of the second day a plate of strange food appeared.

You were hungry and desperate, you were hungry. You were poorly fed the past week and not fed the previous days. The moment you saw the plate of food you pounded on it, eating it in seconds without questioning where it came from.

It was until you saw a finger nail and poorly crushed bones in the bowl that you realized that you have been eating your teammate for the past 2 days. You stayed in a corner of the room surrounded by your puke for the rest of your the days you stayed there until they rescued you.

Nikto noticed how you looked at the food, how you were trembling, he decided it was time to try help you. He approached you, sitting next to you.

“Here.” He handed you a piece of chocolate. He couldn’t think of anything else to give you that couldn’t remind you of what you went through.