A “Captain X” Flash Fiction Story

A “Captain X” Flash Fiction Story

As a citizen of a European country, I left the university in my third year without a degree. I wanted to see the world and experience adventure. I joined the military service and became an Army officer in my country’s service. They trained me in Special Operations, and I served several tours in the Middle East. After ten years, I left the military and became a mercenary. The company sent me back to the Middle East.

In my country’s service and as a mercenary, I saw many immoral and illegal acts of war occurring around me. I participated in some of these acts. Initially, when I took these actions, I wasn’t proud of them. I was appalled at what I did. But, as time wore on, my spirit hardened.

I stopped worrying about the things I did, and they became second nature to me. I committed acts of violence without a second thought, or so I thought.

I betrayed people and I killed people, even though it was always in the line of duty. I had seen friends and comrades die, sometimes in my arms. My thoughts turned to revenge and sometimes I acted out of a spirit of revenge rather than military necessity.

Then, things began to creep into my dreams and haunt me in the netherworld of sleep.

So one day, listening in to a wiretap we had planted inside a Mosque, my interpreter translated the message from the In-man. The Imam spoke about God in a general sense and his lesson centered on spiritual rewards. He did not spew the message of hate — of jihad — I expected him to teach. His message was so loving, and it seemed incongruous in the middle of the military actions and conflict ongoing in the region.

I attended church services very rarely when young and I had stopped attending church services altogether when I turned 14 years of age. I was disillusioned because all I remembered from church services was the dogma the clergy kept repeating. Once or twice, the minister would say something which touched me but there was no follow through. To me, their overall message was full of fear.

That day, hearing the Imam speak of spiritual rewards and hearing him recommend to his followers to treat the “infidels” with kindness resonated within me. It reminded me of one or two messages I had heard as a youth when the minister’s message had lifted my young soul.

I realized at that moment my spirit had soared. Later, I had tea with my interpreter and asked him to repeat the message we had overheard. I do remember he had looked at me strangely at that request, but he complied.

I was intrigued. I thought that maybe this was my chance at redemption. Maybe if I could do some acts of kindness, I could make up for all the bad things I had done.

So I started doing good deeds wherever I went. I helped people who were struggling, both physically and emotionally. I gave them food and shelter, and most importantly, I listened to them. I let them know that they were seen and heard and that they mattered.

And as I did these things, I started to feel better. The weight of my past started to lift off my shoulders. I began to see the good in people again. And I realized that this was my redemption. This was how I could make up for all the bad things I had done.

I left service as a mercenary and now work on a retail store as a salesclerk. As I wait on customers, I sometimes see myself in the mirror and noticed I am smiling.

By doing acts of kindness, I found redemption.

And in so doing, I found peace.

The End

Thank you for reading this Flash fiction story.