[center][h3][color=gold] Gavin O’Brien [/color][/h3][/center]
[center]Iraq, 2011. Night [/center]
[center] Memory recollection Pt 2[/center]
[hr]
“I’ve seen enough movies to know this is the part where we get ambushed.” John said jokingly. Ever the clown of the group, he could always be relied upon to diffuse the tension or ease the anxiety the group would face on their runs. Unfortunately, fate decided to turn jest into reality.

[color=gold] “Much as I’d like to come back a war hero and with a purple heart, I’d prefer the usual clearing of ordinance that does not shoot back at us”[/color]

As the buffalo tore through the ground, slowly of course so as not to trigger the bomb, a device became visible. 

A curious relic, the object was a metallic container about one foot wide and three inches long. It did not look like the usual explosives Gavin has cleared before, made much more apparent with an interesting marking. On the side, in some kind of illuminous paint, was labeled ‘Dr. Thrax’

Gavin paid little attention as he continued digging. After a little more effort, more information emerged.  The device was not alone, it had wires connecting it to other unseen objects buried in the sand. Trusting in the durability of the vehicle, Gavin elected to continue yanking it out of the ground. As time judged, this was a deadly mistake.  The removal of the device did not produce the thunderous sound of explosions as expected, but the distant hiss of a gas escaping a container. 

This left Gavin, and the others, confused even as they noticed a malignant yellow cloud forming from the outside towards them. It was not until they breathed in the virulent air that the reasoning behind this trap dawned upon them.

Gavin began hacking violently as the gas irritated his respiratory tract, causing immense pain. His eyes began to water, in a vain attempt to stave off the gas. In an attempt to find fresh air, Gavin opted to make an immediate escape of the metal tomb that engulfed him. He didn’t make it far as he began to lose consciousness from the pain he felt. The last thing he remembered was a glimpse of movement in one of the structures and the crackling heat of the gas.

[color=gold] “… Wait a minute, mustard gas does not produce heat, or crack like a fire. Oh god, I’m dreaming it again!” Gavin realized as he woke up.[/color]
[hr]
[center] Present day, Night[/center]
[center]Darkness on the Edge of Town[/center]
[hr]
[Color=Darkred] ‘Remembering the event again? Do you remember ripping through their flesh? Do you remember the rage empowering us?  I liked how they tasted. Say what you want about mustard gas, but it does add an interesting flavor. Or it might have been their fear.’[/color]

Gavin was silent; he does not like to think back to that point in his life. Time and trauma both have ways of mercifully blurring the past, but it still comes back to him sometimes. There are the occasional gaps in his memory; blank moments, skips, and inconsistencies. No doubt subconsciously made in order to protect what sanity he had left. It felt rather lovecraftian, but isn’t that what his life is now? Just one long tale of horror, a tale of man trapped in his body with a monstrous personality occasionally taking control. Lovecraft’s tales never ended well. All the notable characters would perish or lose their sanity, living only to ramble in a mental ward. At best the crises would merely be delayed, but never stopped.

Would Gavin’s tale end any better? For a moment, he pondered the idea of trying to remember the blanks, which is probably why he is dreaming. He must be trying to connect the fragments of his mind and form a solid picture. Maybe it would give him some sort of conclusion, maybe if he can remember; it could ease the torment he feels. He decides not to however, Gavin is ultimately afraid of what he might remember. Afraid of his fears being confirmed.

[Color=Darkred]… I like how they tasted[/color], Gavin found himself salivating at the thought of this. Horrified at the prospect, he diverted his attention elsewhere. He tried to find something to occupy his thinking when he noticed an unusual light in the distance. It flickered and wavered unlike man-made illumination, more like a fire. Briefly searching his brain, he remembered some sort of store or other in that direction. Probably a sawmill considering the proximity to the forest. Someone might need help extinguishing the flames. More importantly, the flames can’t spread through the forest. It might burn his refuge, the only other place far enough from the city he could hide (in the case of certain events), and close enough to go to the city in a reasonable amount of time would be the desert. Gavin didn’t much like the idea of going back to sand. Starting with a walk toward the source, as he was not sure he was commited, eventually became a run as he began to felt convicted in his ability to not harm anyone. 
[Color=Darkred] ‘I don’t like the idea of fire…'[/color]

[Color=gold] ‘What, when has fire ever stopped you?’[/color]

Beithíoch made a sound that Gavin swore seemed like a chuckle[color=darkred] ‘Despite not being the one with the organs, It seems I am the one of us two that can have a ‘gut feeling’, how does that make any sense?’[/color]

[color=gold]’Our skin occasionally becomes immune to bullets, we have an extra organ that produces a radioactive isotope in our bloodstream, AND our blood glows through our skin. When did things ever make any sense?’[/color] Gavin thought, though he did began to worry a little. He could not deny that Beithíoch just had this instinct for certain situations. While it is true no natural fire has stopped him before, there must be something… unnatural?