บท 3: Town of Ash
Galan turned around as the sun rose, shining down on him, bringing back a familiar warmth. He looked at the ashes that was his house, walking through the ash heap, coming to a little mound.
He pushed the ashes away, uncovering bits of bone and a few scattered teeth along with a charred skull. He got on his knees and held the skull, the lower mandible crumbling to dust as the rest of the skull struggled to stay together.
Galan trembled and tears escaped his eyes, falling onto the skull in his hands. Little divots sinking in the skull and coming apart as the wet tears destroyed what integrity there was left.
He held the skull as it slowly turned to dust and teeth, slipping through his fingers and scattering on the ground, making a crisp pinging noise. He wiped his tears with his arm as he dusted the ground, revealing a metal pendant the size of a coin.
The iron wasn't valuable enough to be taken by the evil and Galan guessed that he wasn't paying attention to many other things at the time.
The little string was no doubt somewhere around him, a part of the ash heap, only the pendant remained. Galan held the pendant, the last thing that was connected to his mother.
A sacred totem to the Sun God.
He remembered his mother would hold the Sun shaped pendant and pray every night. She would bring Galan to pray with her, her beautiful smile infinitely magnified in his memories as she stroked his cheek, saying gently 'Galan, the Sun God is always protecting us, no matter what happens. The warmth of the Sun is proof of his love for all of us.'
Galan clutched the pendant, looking up at the sky, the Sun beating down on his blood-stained skin. He could feel the heat of the Sun but it was no longer as warm as he believed…
Where was God when his mother was getting defiled?
Where was this so-called 'Love' right now?
Shining on this ash heap of his believers, showing them love and mercy after allowing the darkness to wash over them all.
Galan kept the pendant in his blood-crusted hands as he stood up, walking away from the house that was once a happy place.
He walked in the streets of a town that once was. A religious town full of kind and loving people who spread their kindness to others. He came to a shrine and looked at it.
The Evil clearly wasn't very religious.
The fruits and flowers that were usually laying at the feet of a statue were smashed or gone.
The statue was shattered and strewn across the ground, a pathetic display of what was once the holy faith of the island and all its inhabitants.
Galan looked at the blindfolded head of the statue before turning away and carrying on.
He came to the Marine Outpost on the island and looked at its charred bricks, broken doors, and shattered windows before entering.
Inside the Outpost wasn't much different than everywhere else. Burnt wood, ashes, and corpses all around. Blood drenched floorboards, burnt papers, shattered shells with their transponder snails crushed into paste on the floor.
Galan remembered visiting here before. How happy those days were when he was just an innocent soul. He ran around in the Outpost, drawing laughs from the Marines posted here as his father admonished him for misbehaving.
He swept his fingers on the desk where a secretary usually sat. A cute girl who would always tease him, passing the time along.
Sarah was her name.
Galan remembered declaring that he would marry her in the future when he was old enough, making the marines and Sarah laugh. After that day, she would always say 'Grow up faster, kid, otherwise I'll be married already.'
Those happy times… The Marines were friendly with all the townspeople, helping out with the odd job every now and then, donating offerings to the Sun God shrine, and becoming a part of the town.
Whether they believed in the Sun God or not, it didn't matter…
Because God didn't save them either.
From the Captain of the Outpost, who would always tell him to become a marine one day, to Sarah, who would indulge his childish whims and tease him joyfully…
None of them were shown love and mercy when evil landed on the island.
Galan could only hope that they had a swift and painless end… but he had a feeling that it was nothing like that…
He moved through the outpost, passing the once familiar rooms until he stopped. His eyes taking in the desecrated corpse of the person he once declared to marry in the future.
Blood and the seed of evil escaped her most precious place as her corpse laid there, covered in blood and discharge. Bruises and cuts all over her body, noticeably hand shaped bruises around her neck.
Galan stood over her, looking down at the tragedy. He might've been 8 years old but even the Captain of the Outpost had to admit that he was a bright boy. The smartest boy, the Captain had ever met.
By no means the smartest person, just the smartest child. And with reason, at his age Galan was easily the most intelligent. The Captain reckoned that he would climb to an extremely high rank one day if he were to join the marines, which was the reason for his persistence.
He would buy Galan ice cream and talk about how great the marines were. Telling him that they were the heroes, the ones who brought Justice to the bad guys.
Galan would listen and tease the Captain, accusing him of bribery and propaganda to which the Captain would always awkwardly deny it while laughing goodnaturedly.
And now…
Galan looked at the naked corpse that had been used by who knows how many people, thinking about justice. Where was the justice here? He wondered what his life would've been if he had really grown up…
Maybe he would've married Sarah and had children in peace and safety on the island?
Well… It didn't matter anymore.
There was no future like this and there wouldn't be.
Galan reached down and closed Sarah's dull and unfocused eyes. Those eyes that Galan had once thought were so pretty, the only thing they reflected now was pain, confusion, and begging.
Why did something like this happen to her? Why didn't these animals just kill her?
He assumed the only thing she wanted before death was a quicker end.
He let out a breath and his own blue eyes cast away fear. There was no room for fear in his life. His father had his head blown off, his mother was used like a toy before being dismembered in front of his eyes, and everyone he knew and loved were treated the same way.
Galan forgot about fear, the only thing in his eyes was rage and anger. He was angry at himself for being weak, angry at God for doing nothing, angry at the men who did this, and angry that evil existed in the world.
The young Galan nurtured a severe disgust and hatred for evil in the course of 24 hours.
He stood up from the corpse and continued walking along, coming to the Captain's Office. When he stepped inside he stopped at the slight sound of breathing, it was very weak and abrupt, but he had heard it!
Galan's slightly tender voice sounded "Hello?" there was a creak from the old wooden floorboards behind an oak desk that was burned to hell, but not ash yet, as a weak voice responded from behind it, "G-Ga..lan..?"
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