I hate the dark. Jesus, do I hate the dark. The guys that I was in charge of over in Iraq would laugh if they heard me say that. I had this reputation of not being afraid and now…now I sleep with the lights on. I wish I could say I didn't mean to do it, but the truth is that it had to be done. I had to kill him. Luckily for me, I had the mask of war to hide my crime, but goddamnit, do I hate the dark.
I don't sleep much anymore, either. Every time I close my eyes, I think of that shot. I think of seeing him there, lying in a pool of blood, knowing that it was my weapon that killed the asshole. He haunts my dreams and my thoughts. Not that in life I gave a shit about him because I didn't. Any one with that type of power trip deserves to die in war. Or at least that's what I tell myself just so I can get some sort of peace about it.
We had our run – ins. I hated the asshole for thinking he knew more that me, but hell. That's why he was a Lieutenant, right? One memorable run in…at least to me…was after talking to Captain Baron, about how Underpants got his nickname (admittedly a slip on my part) and asking he be reassigned. The asshole yelled at my men.
"Which one of you is spreading rumors about me and hinting that I be reassigned?" I remember hearing him shout at my men.
Of course I can't help but reply: I am, sir. So if you want to scream at anyone, you yell at me. But I scream back, sir. That's why they call me 'Scream'."
I watched several men needlessly die at the hand of the Lieutenant over small shit like money. On my radio, I heard the screams and cries of the civilian drivers ask for help and the Lieutenant's flat refusal to help.
When Tariq got hit, I knew that I was not going to allow my men to be needlessly put at risk by a power hungry Lieutenant. Thank God for the firefight.
Yet, the darkness scares me now. It reveals to me what I cannot reveal to anyone else: I killed Lieutenant Hunter.