My grandpa was always a man with little to share, except when it came to serving his nation during the 80s. He was a war veteran for the USSR and had been stationed in Afghanistan.
He talked about how he had to check the locations that had been mortar strikes or carpet bombed. One of the few stories he kept repeating before he died was of a Northern Afghanistan village which was unscathed. He cautiously walked through the village with only an erie silence. He decided to check the school which was perfectly standing with the door weathered and open. He considered it to just be the winds and such that hit it open.
He went to check inside when he noticed the center of a room has a hatch leading what would’ve been right on the side of the mountain the village stood on. He tried to pry it open, but the hatch wouldn’t budge. He heard faint whispering of little children, but they had only gotten louder. My grandpa backed up worrying that this might be a trap, he called for his partner who was on the complete other side of the village. There was no response.
My grandpa decided to go outside, to which he saw a completely devastated village with only the school’s door frame still standing. He heard the voices once more and decided to hide himself in the rubble. The hatch had opened and the voices at gone silent. He was worrying for his life when his partner finally got to him and pulled him out of the rubble unknowing of what he had just experienced.
They decided to check inside the school which had a cassette tape recorder just over the hatch. The partner had played the audio and that’s when the voices could be heard, but they weren’t coming from the weathered device. The hatch was shuttering, trying to get open. The kids were screaming in agony. The partner had tried to open the hatch, but to no avail. Grandpa had instead began to close the hatch ensuring whatever was inside stayed out. The partner was the screaming at him for being inhumane, and that’s when grandpa fully shut him out.
He woke up still in the rubble he originally was in, but feeling a warm fluid near his thighs. And feeling the breath of a dog all over his body. He couldn’t determine whether it was just the Afghanistan weather or some sort of crowd. He opened his eyes to see a young boys body. It was just a kid, but he was mauled. My grandpa heard the footsteps of a giant man. All he could think of was to run, but as he ran, the footsteps got louder and louder.
The footsteps were synced to my grandpa’s heartbeat on the machine. As soon as he said he thought he got away, he called for his partner for Control to not know who he was even referring to. No man had ever worked with my Grandpa on that scouting. Nothing was gained except a fear in his heart.
He requested we buried him in Kahkdar, Afghanistan which we managed to do. After the ceremony on the car ride back to the air port, I saw one giant beast who resembled the monster he once tried to describe. It was overwhelming and as such I crashed the car on the side of the road.
I’m currently writing this in the front seat of my car, hiding under the dashboard. Please, help.