Summary: What was running through Hart's head after being thrown out of the car and into the mass grave? Hart's War.
Background: Spoilers for Hart's War (the Colin Farrell movie). I had to do a piece on this as I just loved the whole sequence up to. Wrote this a few years ago and found it on my comp when tidying my files up.
Disclaimer: None of the characters from Hart's War belongs to me. Not for profit.
Fear... is what he felt as he stared up into the sky, his head screaming out in desperation, and the frightingly hostile and intimidating trees steeped down on him
Fear... slowly sank into him, as the shock of seeing another man's head being blown away, started to disintegrate, leaving him in a stunned silence. The feel of the blood and skin still wet against his face. The desperate attempt to escape had been an automatic response, but had left him, being thrown out of the car, his head hitting the hard snow-crystallized floor. The coldness sank into his bones as he continued to look upwards, a calm persona masking his face, as his head tried to evaluate what had just happened.
Fear… as he turned his head. Eyes stared back. Unseeing eyes full of soulful defeat. Hope that was never to come. Slowly the presence of others was felt and he turned his head slightly taking in more of his immediate surroundings. It was then that he saw them… arms and legs, heads and faces, pain and fear… and death. Fear personified as
he took in the image of death, their faces and corpses seemingly ghostly, within the snow-filled glistening grave. He closed his eyes, feeling bile rise up within his throat, unmoving.
Fear… as snow crunched under pressure, somewhere around him. He couldn't tell where, in his disoriented state. From his prone unmoving state, he couldn't even recall where the road was. Again snow crunched and he heard murmuring voices. He tightened his eyes shut, hoping they would leave him for dead, in the already prepared grave. He felt them stop, feeling several around him. One of them said something, probably asking if he was alive, and another responded by violently kicking into his ribs. He rolled, and unable to stop himself, let out a pained gasp.
Fear … as they spat something out at him, roughly yanking him out of the mass grave, making eyes snap open. They dragged him upwards, back to the road, throwing him to the floor. He looked up at them, breathing hard, gasps threatening to tear his chest open. He glanced at their guns, feeling certain that they were going to execute him right there. One of the men, glanced down at his gun, a cruel smile playing at his lips as he took hold of it. Striding forward he came to a stop in front of him.
"You'll be begging for this soon" the man said in broken English, pulling his gun up, and bringing it down, connecting hard with his skull.
Release… as he sank into a deep dark oblivion.