[WP] The year is 1945, shortly after the war ended. You arrive back home to see your loved ones to find that your soon to be pregnant wife has been murdered, no trace of clues or who it could have been. Having to pick up your weapons once again you are on a path with no rules and anything goes.

My father always told me that war is pointless, especially after what he went through during his time in the army. I never doubted him, but what else can a 21-year old healthy young man do when most of his countrymen are already fighting in the war to protect the homeland. The only reason I was not drafted in the beginning was because my family owned a factory. It seemed keeping me close to home to manage the production was more beneficial than sending my to war according to the government. But when the war was at it's climax, they needed all the men they can get. "When there is no country, there can be no family". At least that is what the army recruiting office told everyone. So off to war I went...

It was a cold day in October, the cold wind blowing on my cheeks as I walked up the hill leading up to my town. It was very quiet around me, that it almost seemed unnatural. There were no kids playing around the nearby forests, or cars on the roads. I walked faster because I was cold and more importantly I needed to see my family. I have been away for the past 8 months and have not received a single letter regarding their status. When I finally reached the top of the hill, not only was my whole body frozen, but my heart also became ice cold.

I ran past the houses devoid of life all around me and finally found my front yard. However, there was nothing similar between what is in front of me and what I remember. The front door to my house was gone and I can see my living room in a complete mess. The dining table was broken and the chairs were smashed. The drawers in the kitchen have being broken and ravaged as well. My whole body was shaking as I walked into the house, the first thing I did was to call out to my soon to be wife who was 8 months pregnant with our first child.

I walked out to the backyard and immediately knew what had happened. No one in the army told us that the enemy reached this far into the country. I took a shovel and started digging. I knew what I would find, but I had to make sure or I will always have hope that this was all a dream.

I slowly stood up and made sure the soil underneath my feet was even. Just when I was about to leave everything behind, I saw something shiny on the ground behind me. It looked very familiar. I bent down and picked up the metal army tag. It had a name, place of birth, and the unit number. At that moment I knew what I needed to do.

As I stood outside the door of my target, I readied my army knife behind my back. I knocked on the door and held my breath. The door creaked open and a little girl around 5 years old opened the door. I quickly hide my knife behind my back. A women walked to the door and greeted me with a smile thanking me for coming to say my condolences. I didn't understand much of their language but I learned enough to understand that much. I was confused and just left because I did not know what to do next.

Years later, I moved on with my life and was able to move away from the anguish of my lose. I was glad that I did not do what I set out to do that day. According to a elderly family friend who survived the war, he told me what he saw. He said he saw the day when the enemy troops marched into our town and butchered everyone. He also told me what he saw afterwards. He said a man came back around a few hours later to the town and buried the bodies that were not too badly ravaged. He also was crying when he walked out of my house. But one thing my friend noticed was that he was not wearing a army tag when he left.

Although he was the enemy, I had to forgive him. Because even in war, he did what he could to be as humane as possible. Something tells me he refused to kill the civilians as well. I was glad I did not make a terrible mistake and become a cruel monster. Like my father always told me that war is pointless, but it is what we do in spite of it that counts.

/r/WritingPrompts Thread