Chapter 9: Mythical Legacy - White Death [4]
"White Death has returned!" This was one of the most popular pieces of news of the day.
It had been three days since he was found near the edge of the Northwest forest.
In the military-operated hospital, Lucas lay on the bed. The nurse had just helped him eat his food.
A newspaper was placed just beside him. Grabbing the newspaper, he started reading it. His gaze froze as he looked at one particular eye-catching heading.
'So we lost...'
"Haaaa....." Closing his eyes, he bit his lips. Opening his eyes, he looked out the window, trying to calm himself down. The time seemed to have slowed down as the snow falling from the sky came in contact with the ground.
At the end, another helpless sigh escaped from his mouth. 'There's nothing that I can do...'
Days slowly passed by. In a blink of an eye, another month had passed. Lucas remained in the hospital. Day by day, many wounded ones died, some survived.
The family of these wounded people couldn't even see them for one last time...
The doctors and the nurses of the hospital by now were already monotonous to deaths.
One fateful night, where Lucas had mostly recovered, a few interviewers and reporters arrived. One of the most popular reporters, Victor, was the one asking him questions.
"505 confirmed kills in these three months... There might be many more... Sir, I have to say, it feels like you are a real-life legend."
"Sir Simo, I have to ask. What did you feel when you killed those soldiers?" The reporter asked the most anticipated question. A tense environment had formed, due to this one single line.
"The Recoil." Lucas nonchalantly replied after a short pause.
"Pardon?" The reporter asked with a shocked look. War was a place that traumatized many, a lot of war heroes were asked similar questions. There was a common thing among them, a guilt. Guilt of killing innocent people.
The doctors, nurses, and the military commanders were also simultaneously surprised by this calm and composed reply.
From this day forth, his name would be recorded in history, not only as a brave war hero but also as a badass person.
Now that Lucas could talk with his health returning, people were allowed to visit him.
"Simuna!" Next day during visiting time, Simo's best and most cowardly friend appeared with a grin on his face.
"Väinö," Lucas said as he looked towards Väinö Järvinen, his one and only friend. He regarded him with deep emotions in his eyes.
"Damn, bro. Yesterday, those reporters just wanted another tragic war hero. But your reply was badass!" Väinö said, looking towards Lucas, who shrugged his shoulders.
He then locked eyes with Väinö and said, "Another war is going to start, right?"
"Sigh, look at you, haven't met me for a few minutes but started talking about wars again." Despite Väinö's playful tone, Lucas's face remained as serious as ever, suggesting that he responded quickly.
"Yea."
"Be safe... Especially from explosive bullets. And do not, absolutely not use scopes."
Another month passed by. Väinö had become a frequent visitor to Lucas during this time. Though at the start, Lucas's conversations with him were slightly awkward, they slowly built a kinship over the month.
Väinö did not find this strange; what Lucas had gone through would change any man. Soon, another three months passed by, and a new war had started. Väinö, being an above-average soldier, had to join this war. By this time, Lucas had recovered. Though he applied to join the frontline, his request was declined, and instead, he was taken in as a weapon caretaker.
Winter had long passed, and the ongoing spring also slowly went by. Wars upon wars occurred, and Lucas felt his body weakening. After the end of one war, another started, though it was a small-scale conflict. Lucas once again applied to join it, but unfortunately, his application was declined.
Currently, Lucas was in his cozy-looking cottage. A beautiful dog rested beside him, a companion given to him to ward off loneliness. Right now, Lucas wasn't wearing his ski mask, and his face was revealed in the sunlight that didn't belong to him; instead, it was the face of Simo. His disfigured face bore many wrinkles.
"It's been two months... He still hasn't come." Two months had passed since this small-scale war had started. Suddenly, a knock was heard on the door. Standing up, Lucas walked toward it.
With a swift flick, he opened the door. A man in military gear stood beyond the door.
"Sir..."
...
Garden of Honour, this was where every soldier would be buried. It did not matter how great or small impact their presence made in the battlefield, the fact alone that they were willing to fight for their motherland was more than enough to give them an honorific funeral.
Today, in this garden, a new grave was built. A grave without a body in a coffin, the brave soldier was captured by the enemies. His body was torn into bits and then roasted. Those enemies had performed cannibalism, eating the meat of this soldier.
It was a very brutal act, only some bones of this soldier could be retrieved. Standing in front of the grave were many soldiers saluting this deceased one.
Among them was the war hero, the person called White Death - Lucas.
Even after all the people left, Lucas stood there, his face as tough as a monolith. A heavy downpour had begun; however, Lucas stood there. Beside him was his dog, who, though feeling a great amount of discomfort due to the rain, did not move, waiting for his owner.
Today Simo Häyhä, White Death, The Magic Shooter, Winter War's Grim Reaper, The Lost Death, had lost his only friend, his childhood and best friend.
All those good memories flashed in his mind. Lucas, after a long time since he came to this body, once again felt the intense emotions of Simo Häyhä.
Though people referred to him as a killing machine, at the end of the day, he was a human. A human with a complex mind and countless emotions running through him.
He stood there with a tough face and did not know whether his cheeks were wet due to the rain or due to the tears filled with sadness and happiness reflecting his past happy memories.
This war hero at the moment was just a normal human... Nothing more, nothing less.
...
A few more years passed by. By now, Lucas's hair had already turned grey. He was an old man.
Standing up, he looked at his dog, who was also old just like him.
"Old pal, wanna come on another hunt?"
"Woof! Woof."
"Let's go," Lucas said as he grabbed the Mosin-Nagant, which was shining under the sunlight.
After walking for around fifteen minutes, he noticed a few traces suggesting that a moose was present around this specific area.
"Today there's going to be a good hunt." Lucas said in an energetic manner. As the winds fastened, Lucas quickly found the moose.
One bullet. That was all it took to kill the moose. Today's hunt was indeed with many rewards.
As Simo hunted his fifth animal, suddenly a throbbing pain generated in his chest.
Argh!
The dog beside him worriedly looked at him. The next second, the dog started barking at the top of its lungs, trying to attract someone's attention. However, it was already too late...
Today, on April 1, 2002, Simo Häyhä, White Death, passed away...
But this was also the beginning...
Chapter 9: Mythical Legacy - White Death [4]
"White Death has returned!" This was one of the most popular pieces of news of the day.
It had been three days since he was found near the edge of the Northwest forest.
In the military-operated hospital, Lucas lay on the bed. The nurse had just helped him eat his food.
A newspaper was placed just beside him. Grabbing the newspaper, he started reading it. His gaze froze as he looked at one particular eye-catching heading.
'So we lost...'
"Haaaa....." Closing his eyes, he bit his lips. Opening his eyes, he looked out the window, trying to calm himself down. The time seemed to have slowed down as the snow falling from the sky came in contact with the ground.
At the end, another helpless sigh escaped from his mouth. 'There's nothing that I can do...'
Days slowly passed by. In a blink of an eye, another month had passed. Lucas remained in the hospital. Day by day, many wounded ones died, some survived.
The family of these wounded people couldn't even see them for one last time...
The doctors and the nurses of the hospital by now were already monotonous to deaths.
One fateful night, where Lucas had mostly recovered, a few interviewers and reporters arrived. One of the most popular reporters, Victor, was the one asking him questions.
"505 confirmed kills in these three months... There might be many more... Sir, I have to say, it feels like you are a real-life legend."
"Sir Simo, I have to ask. What did you feel when you killed those soldiers?" The reporter asked the most anticipated question. A tense environment had formed, due to this one single line.
"The Recoil." Lucas nonchalantly replied after a short pause.
"Pardon?" The reporter asked with a shocked look. War was a place that traumatized many, a lot of war heroes were asked similar questions. There was a common thing among them, a guilt. Guilt of killing innocent people.
The doctors, nurses, and the military commanders were also simultaneously surprised by this calm and composed reply.
From this day forth, his name would be recorded in history, not only as a brave war hero but also as a badass person.
Now that Lucas could talk with his health returning, people were allowed to visit him.
"Simuna!" Next day during visiting time, Simo's best and most cowardly friend appeared with a grin on his face.
"Väinö," Lucas said as he looked towards Väinö Järvinen, his one and only friend. He regarded him with deep emotions in his eyes.
"Damn, bro. Yesterday, those reporters just wanted another tragic war hero. But your reply was badass!" Väinö said, looking towards Lucas, who shrugged his shoulders.
He then locked eyes with Väinö and said, "Another war is going to start, right?"
"Sigh, look at you, haven't met me for a few minutes but started talking about wars again." Despite Väinö's playful tone, Lucas's face remained as serious as ever, suggesting that he responded quickly.
"Yea."
"Be safe... Especially from explosive bullets. And do not, absolutely not use scopes."
Another month passed by. Väinö had become a frequent visitor to Lucas during this time. Though at the start, Lucas's conversations with him were slightly awkward, they slowly built a kinship over the month.
Väinö did not find this strange; what Lucas had gone through would change any man. Soon, another three months passed by, and a new war had started. Väinö, being an above-average soldier, had to join this war. By this time, Lucas had recovered. Though he applied to join the frontline, his request was declined, and instead, he was taken in as a weapon caretaker.
Winter had long passed, and the ongoing spring also slowly went by. Wars upon wars occurred, and Lucas felt his body weakening. After the end of one war, another started, though it was a small-scale conflict. Lucas once again applied to join it, but unfortunately, his application was declined.
Currently, Lucas was in his cozy-looking cottage. A beautiful dog rested beside him, a companion given to him to ward off loneliness. Right now, Lucas wasn't wearing his ski mask, and his face was revealed in the sunlight that didn't belong to him; instead, it was the face of Simo. His disfigured face bore many wrinkles.
"It's been two months... He still hasn't come." Two months had passed since this small-scale war had started. Suddenly, a knock was heard on the door. Standing up, Lucas walked toward it.
With a swift flick, he opened the door. A man in military gear stood beyond the door.
"Sir..."
...
Garden of Honour, this was where every soldier would be buried. It did not matter how great or small impact their presence made in the battlefield, the fact alone that they were willing to fight for their motherland was more than enough to give them an honorific funeral.
Today, in this garden, a new grave was built. A grave without a body in a coffin, the brave soldier was captured by the enemies. His body was torn into bits and then roasted. Those enemies had performed cannibalism, eating the meat of this soldier.
It was a very brutal act, only some bones of this soldier could be retrieved. Standing in front of the grave were many soldiers saluting this deceased one.
Among them was the war hero, the person called White Death - Lucas.
Even after all the people left, Lucas stood there, his face as tough as a monolith. A heavy downpour had begun; however, Lucas stood there. Beside him was his dog, who, though feeling a great amount of discomfort due to the rain, did not move, waiting for his owner.
Today Simo Häyhä, White Death, The Magic Shooter, Winter War's Grim Reaper, The Lost Death, had lost his only friend, his childhood and best friend.
All those good memories flashed in his mind. Lucas, after a long time since he came to this body, once again felt the intense emotions of Simo Häyhä.
Though people referred to him as a killing machine, at the end of the day, he was a human. A human with a complex mind and countless emotions running through him.
He stood there with a tough face and did not know whether his cheeks were wet due to the rain or due to the tears filled with sadness and happiness reflecting his past happy memories.
This war hero at the moment was just a normal human... Nothing more, nothing less.
...
A few more years passed by. By now, Lucas's hair had already turned grey. He was an old man.
Standing up, he looked at his dog, who was also old just like him.
"Old pal, wanna come on another hunt?"
"Woof! Woof."
"Let's go," Lucas said as he grabbed the Mosin-Nagant, which was shining under the sunlight.
After walking for around fifteen minutes, he noticed a few traces suggesting that a moose was present around this specific area.
"Today there's going to be a good hunt." Lucas said in an energetic manner. As the winds fastened, Lucas quickly found the moose.
One bullet. That was all it took to kill the moose. Today's hunt was indeed with many rewards.
As Simo hunted his fifth animal, suddenly a throbbing pain generated in his chest.
Argh!
The dog beside him worriedly looked at him. The next second, the dog started barking at the top of its lungs, trying to attract someone's attention. However, it was already too late...
Today, on April 1, 2002, Simo Häyhä, White Death, passed away...
But this was also the beginning...
