You were a child in a war. You parents died in front your eyes after the enemies shot them. Ever since that day you lived in the mess that was your house once. It was cold and the smell was awful, the smell of corpses were awful the corpse of your parents both laid there. You could feel their dead eyes staring at you, all you could do was stare back at their dead bodies in fear and sorrow, you didn't regonize them anymore.

That was till you heard some people walk around the battlefield you hid behind a wall crying out in fear of getting shot. Right after that some man with a long beard and fisher like hat came towards you as he yelled something to his men.

"Are you okay?" He kneeled down next to you. "I'm John." He said hoping that would comfort you somehow. Just as you were about to say something back you suddenly felt really dizzy and in a lot of pain since you still didn't ate for days and you didn't treat your wounds properly. And you passed out.

After you woke up you looked around your vision still blurry.

"Youre awake." The same man from earlier spoke as he stood at the foot of the bed, the room was small but simple it looked like a small medic room and most of your wounds had platers or bandages on them. You probably were at the base of the military.