[Author's note: Massive grammatical/spelling errors ahead. This is a very rough version. You have been warned.]

They tell us the Fear is the most terrible thing unleashed on man, enough to drive even the soundest mind over the edge. They frighten us with stories of soldiers gone absolutely mad to the point of turning the gun on their fellows. They warn that no man who has encountered the Fear has yet returned, that the only knowledge we have of it is the bloodied remains of foxholes and trenches with men torn to bits. They tell us to fear the Fear more than death itself.

Only the enemy could be dastardly enough to let loose such a plague on humanity. The Fear comes silently, when we're least aware. Nuclear weapons are a thing of the past ' if the people can be destroyed and their assets left intact, isn't that better than vaporizing untold billions of dollars of wealth? Furthermore, there exists no defense, no shield behind which we can hide from the deadly chemical and bio weapons. Once they have you, you're finished, left only to gasp away a few more moments of life before succumbing to the blackness.

What's a soldier to do? A question, one that has crossed my mind an untold number of times. I resolve merely to fight and defend my god and country. But that resolve isn't enough anymore; I need something more. Some personal stake to spur me onward.

Survival. The drive of an army.

Is it enough in the face of this new threat?

--- ---

The rain beat down as Fredrick and I leaped back into the trench. Our rough boots landed with a hard squishing sound in the deep mud; the both of us grunted with the impact ' it's always a longer distance than you think to the bottom ' as we come down once more in the dismal safety of 'our side.'� Not since the defeat of the German Empire have we turned to trench warfare in such a way. But with the revival of bio-terrors and technological weapons of untold horror, we found a safety in the old ways.

Thick wooden beams shore up the walls of dirt, the only pillar between us and an early grave. Sometimes I wonder if, in face of a particularly gruesome massacre, they don't just pile the bodies in these trenches and hack away the supports. It would certainly be a hell of a lot easier.

Fredrick swung his rifle around and lifted the mask from his face. The masks are horrid affairs, making us look more like monsters than men. When you see someone in one of those and the long, dark coats that scrape the toe of our boots, it's easier to kill him. He's almost not a man with that junk on, but he doesn't stand a chance without it. The masks filter the polluted air to the point where we can breathe safely. Without them, residual poisons will inevitably seep into our lungs and do terrible things to us. I've seen too many men go that way, everything from slow brain-poisoning to the thinning of the skin to the point where the blood nearly gushes out. None of it is pretty. It's all a reminder of where we are.

In the trenches, though, we find ourselves safe enough, and thus Fredrick had nothing to fear in removing it here. I always thought him a boyish sort of man, with smooth features and deep blue eyes. But he had a hard edge to him, too, one that we all got from those years in the trench. It wasn't possible to be out there and not feel the effects of it after a while. Soon, the entire world began to look dark, and it usually was. With all the poisons in the air, the sun barely poked through but a few times a year.

Nevertheless, it was with a peculiarly innocent grin that Fredrick greeted me upon removing the helmet and mask. 'Not so bad, is it Arthur?'� he asked jovially. 'Another day, another dollar.'� Fredrick is infamous for his optimistic outlook on life, generally meaning he found small victories in the smallest things ' returning from our current patrol, for example.

I pulled my own apparatus from my head and shook my greasy dark hair. 'I suppose,'� I muttered in reply. 'A few more dollars would be nice, though.'�

Fredrick shrugged. 'You do what you can.'�

I nodded in response. 'You do at that.'�

A small shout from down the trench raised our attention. Through the crowded trench, stuffed from wall to wall with soldiers ranging from weary to near-death, shoved our commanding officer, Captain Thule. Thule's pointed, short near-white blond hair stood out from a mile away, which probably explained his rank ' if he were any sort of fighting man, the enemy would likely pick him out in the bleak air, alerting their hordes of an incoming charge. Thule did not fit the description of an able leader, but he was a brute. And the two are so often confused that it never really mattered.

'What news?'� he demanded of us while still a few feet a away. He had a no-nonsense personality that demanded little talk beyond what was absolutely necessary. His two aides, the real brains behind anything that went on with our company, were never more than a few steps behind him, clutching little boards with slips of paper, furiously scribbling on their pads. They had no rank insignia, nor did they ever speak; the only thing that distinguished them as military was the characteristic long, dark uniform coats. They had to wear those; they and the counterpart gloves are designed to protect the skin from the poisonous air. They never wore the masks, though, because they never left the trench.

But they always hung in the back, in Thule's shadow, out of sight and only on the fringe of mind. 'What news?'� the captain demanded again.

'All quiet,'� Fredrick replied. 'Not even a speck of movement anywhere between here and the city. We scouted up to the edge of the plain, where the buildings began back when they were buildings. We thought we saw enemy troops, but'�just a corpse disturbed by some falling debris.'�

'Any idea what dislodged that?'� Thule posed.

'We checked it out; seems like it was just the breeze.'�

Thule grunted. 'Fine; rest up and find your relief. Two hours of sleep, then you're on guard duty. Dismissed.'�

Relieved to be free of the boorish captain, I swept a hand through my hair. 'Well,'� I said softly, 'best get Charles and William and tell 'em they're up. I'd like to make as much out of our downtime as possible, eh?'�

Fredrick grinned lightly. 'Gladly. I think they're bunked a ways off west. Since E Company got obliterated, we've been spreading out a bit. Been nice for the men, I suppose, to spread their legs a bit. At least we don't need to crunch ourselves up any more than we need to.'�

'No, the enemy will enough of that for us, or else the Captain,'� I muttered.

We found the pair of them relatively easily; waking them was another matter. Not after they'd been posted on a full 36-hour watch just two days ago. They were still recovering from that. It's difficult to judge the Captain for that, though; as the war drags on, fewer and fewer men come back, and, of them, fewer and fewer were capable of keeping any kind of watch. In hindsight, it's hard to tell who I would call the lucky ones ' the shell-shocked and wounded who only had to leave their defilades for the increasingly fewer suicide runs on the city in the distance, or we 'whole'� ones who were forced to keep a weather eye on the still movement of that city of the attack that never comes on little food and less sleep. It certainly is a quandary. But we were in it for our survival, and that was enough.

'Oi,'� William spluttered as he shuffled out of the cot. 'Time already?'�

'Afraid so,'� I said. 'Can't say I feel sorry for you, though; I'm too close to passing out myself.'�

'Oh, fuck off,'� he replied bitterly.

Charles laughed sullenly. 'Well, come along, Will; if we don't go now, they'll just make us go later. The sooner we get it done, then the sooner we can come back and show these bastards what for, eh?'�

'Fine,'� William growled, placing the gas mask over his face and placing the helmet on top of his head. It always sent chills down my spine to see the men like that; they transformed from comrades to'�things. Beasts. Demons of a netherworld that I never want to see. After seeing things like that, things like the blood of friends and foes alike spilled, sometimes shorn out of still-living bodies, I don't believe in hell. How can I, when we're obviously already there? Why do I need to die to go there?

I expected some other taunt out of William, but he just grabbed his rifled and scooted up and over the dirt wall into the field. Charles still cradled his headgear in his arms as he watched his comrade clamber up the dirt fortification. He shot me a small, wry grin. 'Busy day today?'� he asked jovially, peculiar given that I'd just wrested him out of sleep.

'More than usual,'� I replied, grinning back. 'A corpse shifted, nearly sent us running back to call the charge.'�

Charles barked a small laugh. 'Sounds like a full-enough day to me,'� he said.

'Well, in two hours we're on guard duty,'� I said, 'so apparently Captain Thule doesn't think so.'�

'The bugger,'� Charles snarled. 'Like to wring his neck, meself.'�

'Now, now; we'll have none of that,'� I cautioned.

He sighed. 'I know, I know. It's just'�well, nevermind. Say, Will seemed rather wasted, didn't he?'�

'Yeah, why?'�

Charles shrugged. 'I dunno; think he'll be okay out there?'�

I scoffed a small laugh. 'What, like they have anything out there? He could probably sleep in the middle of the plain while you grabbed a smoke by the side of the road and they'd never come. I tell you, I think that city's been abandoned.'�

'Yeah, you're probably right.'� He looked up over the crest of soil. 'Fuck it all,'� he said simply, putting the mask on. 'See you on the other side.'� He plopped the helmet on his head, fastened the straps and scaled up the wall. 'Say, be a sport and hand me my rifle, will you Arthur?'�

'Grab it yourself,'� I jabbed back. 'I'm nearly asleep.'�

'Come on, you damn fool. Just chuck 'er up here.'�

'As you wish,'� I said, grabbing the rifle and throwing it up at him.

'Son of a bitch,'� he called back as he grabbed it in midair.

'Tell it to someone who cares,'� I told him as I shifted in the cot.

He snickered. 'Pleasant dreams,'� he bid before disappearing into no-man's land.

My lids closed, the light playing a small dance on the surface of my corneas, I barely registered his words more than enough to say groggily, 'With any luck, there won't be any dreams at all.'� With these words, I drifted off silently into the cool embrace of sleep.

--- ---

In the middle of my sleep, I heard screaming.

NO, I thought. I'm still asleep. Please tell me I'm still asleep. For a moment, it all seemed as I hoped and I lulled back into dreamlessness. But, no; the scream echoed again across the plain, rippling through the trench disturbing my sleep.

My eyes shot open as soldier instinct kicked in. I had enough energy to fight for a few hours, and I'd take as many of the bastards as I could with me. I sat up in the cot, hand shooting out to grasp my rifle. I leaped out of the cot and shouldered the weapon, aiming above the topmost point of the dirt wall. Whatever devil had decided to haunt us this time, I would be ready.

Fellow soldiers began to gather around, wondering what the commotion was about. Fredrick followed me out of his own cot, gripping his weapon like it was his ticket out of death. He didn't take aim as I did, adopting instead a cautious curiosity. Fuck it, I thought, I'll shoot the first thing that pokes its goddamned head in our trench.

Another scream echoed. A few men nervously shifted, some raising their weapons. Bloody fools, I thought. Now's not the time to waver. But I kept silent, waiting. We were all waiting.

Finally, a form burst into our line of vision. My finger squeezed the trigger, nearly discharging the weapon. But, at the last moment, I staid my shot ' it was clearly one of ours, and it had no weapon anyways.

The thing fell into the trench, landing with a dull thud in the mud. It grunted for a moment, trying the gasp for breath, but it finally let out another scream. The long coat was stained on the front with a large splatter of blood and what appeared to be traces of innards. 'Get this man a medic!'� someone shouted.

'Wait!'� I replied. 'Let's see who it is first.'� I removed my sidearm from its holster, propping the larger weapon against the dirt wall. Keeping my gun leveled at the thing's head, I lifted the mask from its head.

It was Charles, his eyes wide and his face in shock. 'Th-they're'�oh, God! It's them!'� he babbled.

'Step aside, step aside!'� Thule's thick voice sounded. 'What's the business here? What's going on!'�

'Captain,'� Fredrick said slowly. 'It's Charles'�'�

'What about him? He's supposed to be on patrol duty.'�

'Whatever god loved man, help us! It's coming, I say!'� Charles howled. 'I heard them! I heard them talking about it!'�

Apparently realizing that the situation required more than his usual finesse, Thule leaned in. 'Alright, son, steady on. What happened.'�

'Oh, God!'� Charles cried. 'I heard them! I heard them!'�

'What did you hear, Charles?'� I asked softly.

'Th-the enemy! They're over there, I say! They're plotting! Will and I ' oh, God, Will! ' we went over there, to that city, but they caught sight of us! Shot poor William dead! He's dead!'�

'It's alright, son,'� Thule said soothingly.

'No, it's not alright! Don't you get it? I heard them!'� he shouted. Thule looked at him perplexed, unsure of what to do. The Captain looked up to me for a moment, but I just shrugged. I had no idea what the bloody fool was jabbering on about. Before Thule could say anything, Charles grabbed his collar, a wild look in his eye. 'They've got it, you know; they've decided that we're too much trouble to worry about anymore so they're going to unleash'�the Fear!'�

Gasps ricocheted through the trench as word passed downward. The Fear! Could it be true? I felt even my own heart stop for a moment. If the enemy had the Fear, if they planned to use it'�we'd be doomed.

'Steady,'� Thule growled. 'Steady, I say!'� Even in his voice, I detected a faint waver of panic as the thought of the Fear gripped him. 'Now, Charles,'� he said, returning to the prone form in his arms, 'are you absolutely sure you heard 'the Fear?' Please, son, you have to be sure.'�

'Yes,'� Charles whispered, wild eyes roving about. 'Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Do you get it? The Fear is coming!'�

Shouts erupted from the gathered soldiers. Some of them demanded a full retreat; after all, no city could be worth losing the whole army gathered here to the Fear. Others advocated that we make a full rush on the enemy and drive them out before they could have a chance to let loose their deadly weapon on us. Men began to argue; a few rounds were fired as some took their own lives. The panic only spread.

'Stop this, right now!'� Thule bellowed. Suddenly, as quickly as it had started, the panic ceased. The Captain rose, leaving Charles on the ground. The broken man huddled up and scurried away, mumbling on and on about the Fear and the coming death for us all. 'Now,'� he said, 'we're not going to give into this. It's very likely that the enemy let Charles hear their plans and then chased him away. I will not let my company dissolve into panic because of a rumor.'� I had to give it to old Thule there; I'd never seen him take charge so decisively.

'But Charles,'� someone said, 'he had the Fear on him already! I saw it in his eyes, that madness they say takes you when the Fear grabs hold! I saw it in him, I did!'�

'Aye!'� another agreed. 'How do we know they haven't let it loose already? No one knows what the Fear is like; what if there are no warning signs? The poison could be spreading among us even now!'�

'SILENCE!'� Thule barked once more, but this time no one listened.

'But they wouldn't have let it loose so near to their fortress,'� a semi-reasonable voice remarked. 'They must have let it loose some other way. I'll bet Charles and Will were affected even before they left for patrol, and that's what got poor William killed.'�

'But Will was half-asleep,'� Fredrick interjected. 'I mean, he could have easily just been careless.'�

'He's right,'� I said. 'Even Charles thought something might happen.'�

'And what do you two know of it?'� an earlier voice demanded, its owner pointing an accusatory finger at us. 'Weren't you two on patrol just before them? How do we know you didn't meet up with your friends in the city to get the poison to bring back here? I'd wager you two are traitors, in league with our enemies!'�

'Preposterous!'� I retorted, scowling. 'We don't even know anything about it; it could take hours to set in!'�

'He's right,'� the reasoned voice said. 'It could have been any one of us.'�

'But these two seem particularly eager to hide something, don't they?'� the accusing voice demanded. 'Let's shoot them right here; or, better yet, force feed them mustard gas ' they don't deserve a quick death!'�

I turned to Captain Thule. 'Captain, this is insane! Would we be traitors?'� But the Captain had taken to hiding behind his two advisors, whose eyes shifted across the congregated troopers warily.

'Well, don't you seem quick to pass the blame on?'� another soldier said. 'How do we know it wasn't you?'�

'ME?!'� our accuser shouted. 'How dare you! I've been a patriot my entire life, and you dare to implicate me?! I won't take any more out of you!'� He raised his rifle at the offender, but the reasonable soldier intervened.

'Please, let's not be rash,'� he implored, but the other was already beyond help. It seemed clear to me then and there that the Fear had taken a hold of us already. Even I felt somewhat unnerved.

'Come along, Fredrick,'� I whispered to my friend. 'We don't want to be here when this blows up.'� Nodding Fredrick turned, and the two of began trying to sneak away.

'There they go!'� the hothead bellowed. I turned my head quick to see him raise his gun at us. I fell to the ground to avoid the coming shot. The barrel exploded, the gunshot ringing in my ear even as the bullet flew through the air to pierce poor Fredrick in the back of the head. With a grunt, Fredrick fell to the ground, open eyes staring at me blankly, mouth opened in shock. His face was distorted by the blood and gore of his missing forehead. His fingers twitched for a moment, then all was still.

'Murderer!'� someone shouted. 'Murderer! Traitor! It was you, all along!'�

'No, my friends, no'�please, I was only'�'�

'Shove it, motherfucker; I hope you rot in hell after suffering long from the Fear. I hope you're the last one to die!'�

'But, I'�'�

Another shot rang out, and the hothead crumpled to the ground. Shouts rose from the men, and more gunshots sounded. Before long, all was descended into chaos as blood flowed through the thick air, almost as heavily as the accusations. I got to my feet and raced to Captain Thule. 'Captain, please, stop this madness!'� I begged, but the Captain looked at me with strange eyes.

'How do we know it wasn't you?'� he growled at me. 'How do we know?'� It was then that I noticed the Captain's sidearm was in his hand and pointed at my gut.

'Please, sir'�'� I began, but then I heard a bang and felt a sting in my stomach. Looking down, I saw smoke rising from the Captain's gun, a small wound leaking blood from my stomach. Shocked, I gasped and stumbled backwards, splashing in the mud. Captain Thule readied another shot and aimed the gun at my head. But before he could fire, one of the wooden beams collapsed in an explosion of dirt ' someone had lobbed a grenade ' and struck Thule on the head. The Captain cried out as he fell. I took advantage of this opportunity to make my escape. The front trench was all but abandoned now as soldiers had tried to get as far away from the Fear as they could.

When I was out of sight of the others, I looked back to make sure no one was following me. I saw the crumpled form of Thule lying in his own blood; apparently, he had made a run for me, but had been gunned down before he had gotten far. Sighing, I collapsed against the dirt wall, examining my wound. I began to grow dizzy with the loss of blood, but I had to see it.

'Quite a nasty cut,'� a man said above me. My gaze shot up to see the speaker. It took me a moment, but I finally registered Charles standing there, arms folded in front of him. He appeared amused, a twinge of a smirk on his face. 'I'd say you've only got a little time left.'�

'Charles,'� I said slowly.

'Yes, me,'� he replied softly. 'I was a double agent all along. What are you going to do about it?'�

'You betrayed us.'� I couldn't believe it; no, not Charles, not the lad I'd gone to boot camp with, survived this long terrible war with. 'Y-you let loose the Fear'�'�

Charles laughed coldly. 'The Fear? I never did any such thing. You did it yourself, all of you. With your guns pointed as readily as your fingers, you signaled your own destruction. All I did was'�inspire the Fear within you.'�

I didn't understand. 'What are you t-talking about?'� I winced with the pain. Things were growing steadily less intelligible.

'Don't you think it would be an extraordinary thing to develop a weapon that overthrew men's minds? But why develop one when nature has given it to us, prepackaged in our own minds? The Fear is nothing more than the exaggerated insecurities of your own thoughts, my dear Arthur. We, that is, our scientists, did not develop a new bio-terror. All we did was exploit what's already there. The only one who did any sort of development was our propaganda office.'�

'Ch-charles'�'� I stammered, coughing.

'And, now, your entire army will destroy itself. Word of the Fear will spread back through the trenches until not a one of you is left. You know something? There are a hundred men in that city. A hundred. Against the hundreds of thousands you sent against it. And you defeated yourselves for us. I'd recommend you for a medal, but I don't think it'd carry the same weight back home, eh?'�

'You bastard.'�

'Say what you like,'� Charled chided, kneeling beside me, 'but we've won. Or, rather, you've lost. Insanity is a potent tool when used correctly and surprisingly easy to coax out of you. I'm sorry, old chap, really am. But even you have to appreciate how brilliant this all was. This, dear Arthur, is why we will win in the end.'�

I tried to reply, but my breaths only came out in gasps now. Everything was blurred. Except for one last detail ' Charles' brilliantly smirking face, and the clarity of the great prank that had been pulled on us. Oh, how I wanted to smash that face!

'And now,'� Charles continued, 'I must be going before I am mistaken for one of your brutes and hacked to pieces.'� He reached behind him and pulled the gas mask over his face and placed the helmet on his head. 'Since you've always been a good friend, I'll do for you what I did for William ' a quick, easy death outside the Fear you've manufactured in your own mind. Goodbye Arthur. And Godspeed.'�

Time seemed to stop. All else was obscured, except Charles' hidden face. The gas mask ' a demon, a beast. Finally, it reflected what was on the inside.

Breathing came in heaves now, and blood began pouring out of my mouth. I watched Charles through darkening eyes. I kept my gaze fixed on those two, glass circles through which I knew he was watching me. I wanted him to know all the hate I had for him now, all the malice. I could have forgiven him betraying us; but I would go through eternity forever gating him for unleashing the Fear on us.

But then, I realized, it wasn't him ' it had been our own damn fault. Fear is far easier. I found, in my last moments, that I couldn't blame him, because he was not worthy of blame. That would be giving him too much credit. The real culprits were killing each other ' I could still hear their screams, their gunshots, and almost taste their blood on the air.

A sharp pang in my chest; I saw Charles' hand, or at least what I perceived as Charles' hand, near my heart and caught a faint glimmer. A knife to the chest; a far better fate than I would have had in the trenches. So I did have Charles to thank for something.

As the abyss closed around me, only one final thought reverberated through my sub-conscious brain:

Truth. Fuck it.

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