All I could hear was the sound of screaming and gunfire. The smell of gunpowder and copper hung heavy in the air. The view in front of me was too horrible to comprehend. The beasts kept coming and the soldiers kept firing. Neither side seemed to realize the battle was futile and endless.

I stood, alone, in a clearing not far from the battle, but far enough away to be safe from it. My job was to relay the battles progress to those in power and await further instructions. My job was nothing, meaningless and menial. It was just a way to keep those who made the decisions far away from the actual combat and carnage. My job was to save them from seeing, hearing, and smelling the horrific details of the war they were funding and furthering. My job was garbage and I hated it.

This particular war had been going on for a little over 4 years. It had become more volatile in the past 6 months, however, and the loss of life on both sides was taking its toll. The weariness of our soldiers was apparent to all but those who commanded them to push forward. The onlookers of this heinous war were fed up and protests were now a daily occurrence outside of most places of power. I was a silent observer, required to have no thoughts or opinions, to just relay the facts and move forward. I had reached an end to my tolerance, though, and had started to do things I’d never considered before.

There was a faction of the government, little known and hidden, working to end the war. They called themselves The Noise. No one truly knew why, but my reasoning was, that if you heard someone talking about a noise they heard, it wouldn’t be interesting enough to keep listening to. Not something work of eavesdropping.

I had been approached, periodically, about passing information to The Noise since shortly after the war started, but until about a year ago, hadn’t even considered it. My decision had changed about the same time the war had taken a turn for the worse. Everything I had relayed to the powers that be, was now getting sent to The Noise as well. How they were using the information, I didn’t quite know yet, but I was working on that too.

My ability to be in a place and be unknown was a gift. I was able to use it to my advantage in many different scenarios. I was an observer by nature and that worked to my benefit as well. Even as a teen, at parties, I was rarely noticed, but noticed everything. I’d been using this to my advantage for years. Using information only I could gather, by seeing things others didn’t, and taking what I could get from it. I wasn’t always well liked because of this, but I was always well paid.

I used this ability now, for The Noise, to relay who in power was in conflict with who, and who could be bought in some way. They found my services invaluable, and paid accordingly. At this point in my life, however, it wasn’t about the money. I was sick and tired of seeing the brutality of the world and people using the lives of others as a way to advance themselves.

I feel the damp heat and stagnant air before I realize I’m even awake. It’s suffocating. It bears down on me like the coat of some heavy beast who has just run through a torrential downpour. The smell is similar to that of a beast as well. Poignant and overpowering, it creeps into my nose like worms crawling through the earth. I become aware of the platform beneath me, rigid and uneven. Pain begins to shoot through me from the unnatural position of my body. I’m fully awake now, but too terrified to open my eyes. Where am I? I try to remember the day, the moment, anything before, just and glimpse or clue that could tell me what happened or my location. I’m met with nothing but an impenetrable fog. My mind is completely vacant aside from the dread welling inside me. I try to remain as still as possible, listening for any sign of movement or life around me. I hear the wind, blowing soft outside a nearby window. It whistles slightly. Maybe I’m in an older building. Birds sing in the distance, a bright chirp in the dark foreboding of my mind. That simple sound brings with it small hope. I strain to hear anything else. Someone breathing, light footsteps, the creak of floorboards, anything that will indicate I’m not alone in this place. I hear nothing but the sound of my own erratic heartbeat. There’s nothing left for me to do now. I hold my breath, and I open my eyes.