1 Cursed World

20200912 --- Uncharted regions of Indonesia...

*

'In this world, everything is just out to get you. I've been bored for so long that this whole ordeal is just annoying...'

"Hey." an annoyed tone came from this voice.

'Oh come on i was just about to keep complaining to my-' A swift kick at the chair he was sitting on flys from under himself as he meets the lovely asphalt on the way down.

"Guy i swear if I catch you sleeping again during the day i'm going to write you up." A very annoyed Staff Sergeant stated at the now dumb founded Specialist

"But Sergeant, I finished all my tasks. Also isn't there an army regulation where we can sleep if no events are occuring?"

At that comment he'd feel a nerf dart connect to the center of his forehead. "Shut it, they need you over at the msm to grab some equipment. Now move it."

After dusting off his pants he gives off the two finger salute to the Staff Sergeant and promptly moves with a sense of purpose towards the msm.

---Five Minutes---

After a bit of a walk on the airfield the Specialist finds the msm along with a few of his buddies.

"Took you long enough guy, you were sleeping on top of a box again weren't ya?" Specialist Styles would say while having a smug expression.

"To be fair i was on a chair, then Sergeant Mills decided to give me a wake up call by kicking my chair!" The Specialist would state in an innocent tone.

"Sounds like a you problem." Private Smith stated

"Shut it." Both Specialists said in unison. 

After a bit of silence everyone laughs it off and gets to work moving equipment from A-B through C and back to B because Sergeants have a hard time communicating with each other where they want shit placed.

---Thirty Minutes---

All three enlisted decided to take a break when they finished the tasks. They talk shit about their Sergeants until an explosion could be heard from a distance.

"Must be the arty crews going at it again. They sure love to show off." Styles would say as he leaned back smoking his E-cig.

'A few moments after the explosions started to creep closer, until the msm we spent all day unpacking and repacking explodes from an RPG sending all three of the us flying from our close proximity to it, styles being in the passenger seat explodes into a burst of flames and blood that splatter just as far as the explosion itself, Smith getting a piece of a hub to slice his body in half, and myself soaring through the sky half burnt because i thought it was a grand fucking idea to sleep ontop of the msm again.'

The living Specialist crashes against the ground, breaking a few ribs on impact; he attempts to get up only to look at the base in front of himself engulfed in gunfire and explosions.

'Man fuck this shit... I swear if reincarnation doesn't exist I'm gonna be pissed...'

At that moment the Specialist dies from a secondary explosion turning everything black to his perspective.