Armistice Page #2

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Explanation.

Demonstration.

Imitation.

Explanation:

You are going to tell me

exactly who

or what you are.

Demonstration:

I am PO40516-Echo,

Corporal A.J. Budd,

Her Majesty's

Royal Marine Commandos.

You are?

Where's

your point of entry?

How can I extract?

Give me

a f***ing sit-rep now!

Rembrandt me.

Put me in the picture.

The hard way then.

I just want to know...

how do I get out?

You don't even

have to...

even tell me any

of the other things.

Just that.

How hard is that?

Okay.

I think you should

sleep on it...

okay?

It's f***ing chewing me!

Anyone else injured?

IED device detonated!

Aah!

Then I found it,

the only thing

I can ever remember wanting...

a way out.

At the end of my tunnel,

a door buried

so deep beneath the house

that it didn't seem real.

It filled me with fear.

It pains me to say

that what was through there

was too terrible to face...

And I had not the courage

to accept my fate.

I am lost.

What reserves I've built up

against this prison

have crumbled to nothing.

The dream of escape

has long been

the only thing

to give me hope,

and now all is lost,

and I can find

no comfort in my God.

I cannot

go back down there.

I have made the decision

to leave by other means.

It is a mortal sin

to take one's life,

but I know that

I am already damned.

At least I won't

have to wake

in this godforsaken

house again.

I woke up alive.

I thought I hadn't

cut deep enough,

so I went at it again

with a will.

Again, I awoke,

still living,

still trapped.

If death was no escape,

then the doors held no fear.

I crawled to them.

Cruel joke.

They are barred

against me now,

a reward

for my cowardice.

There is no escape for me,

and I am damned.

My final act.

I will place this book

by the doors

as a warning

for any who follow me.

That done,

I aim to escape

by the only way left to me.

I will carve away at myself

until there is nothing left.

I take my own life

again and again.

From agonizing

over one mortal sin

to endless floods of them,

I use death as an escape.

Hours

of unknowing blackness,

leaping past the days

and starting again

each morning.

I destroy myself

inch by inch.

I cut pieces from myself

that aren't restored.

My hands, crippled.

All comfort

from art and music, gone.

My mind, weakened.

I'm changing.

Stitched, mindless.

I am becoming

what I've killed.

I write this

while I still can.

Still, I climb the stairs

to make my mark.

No blood on

my hands now but mine own.

Broken.

Beaten.

Damned.

A prisoner here

forevermore.

In my deaths...

I mark my days.

Aah!

Aah!

I'm getting out.

This is my way.

I'm getting out.

I'm getting out.

I'm getting out of here.

Cas rep!

Cas rep!

Medic!

Anyone else injured?

I need a cas evac!

IED device detonated,

heavy machine-gun fire inbound!

One serious casualty!

6-Bravo-9er, we're returning

fire at section 8!

Immediate area secured!

I need immediate helo evac!

Helo,

roger, so far. Helo inbound.

Cease fire!

Aah!

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