[ WP ] A soldier in the heat of battle suddenly hears a voice that says `` I am your child 's imaginary friend . They have sent me to protect you in your greatest time of need . ''

The entire war was a series of shattered expectations. His once clean-cut uniform, stuck to him with a layer of grime as his back lay against the sand. His hands were blackened and bloodied. He felt like a haze encompassed him. Every moment lost the ability to surprise him. Something happened and he reacted. The only thing that hadn ’ t let him down was the heavy feeling of fear in the bottom of his gut. It travelled with him from the moment he hugged his son goodbye. 
 
 He leaned on his elbow, slowly rotating and letting his body weight turn him over, sliding down the embankment a little on his belly. Steadying himself, he raised and lowered his head as quickly as he possibly could. He pinned he arms over the back of his skull and machine gun fire rattled the air. 
 
 “ Fuck, ” he said. 
 
 Moving quickly, he slid further down and rolled next to the body of Private First Class Phillip. Grunting, he rolled the corpse over his body. 
 
 “ I ’ m gon na need your help again, buddy. There ’ s more than I thought up there. ” He whispered. 
 
 Two explosions rocked the air next to him and he froze, waiting was the only option for the moment. He could hear, or thought he could hear, the rest of his battalion shouting to him, but he couldn ’ t make the noise into words. Whenever he focused on any sound, the ringing in his ears overpowered everything else. 
 
 Yesterday, as they pushed this ridge, a Japanese entrenchment, hidden in the jagged escarpment, opened fire and cut the battalion in half. He was in the unlucky half that didn ’ t make it to better cover further down the cliff. 
 Hopefully, those two grenades were the last and the Japs were counting him dead this time. Hope didn ’ t guide him though. The fear in his gut, still heavy and in control, moved him slowly. He crawled, shimmying out from under the Private First Class. Curling his fingers into the sand as he pulled himself forward, trying to scrape the peculiar mix of carbon, blood, and sweat from his palms. 
 
 *I could just lay here. If I don ’ t move, they won ’ t see me. * 
 
 “ That might have worked, but you already moved, so you better keep going. ” Said a voice. 
 
 *Great, now I ’ m seeing things. * 
 
 A boy stood in front of him, about the same age as his own son, untouched by the gore of the trench and resplendent in a bright red cape. 
 
 “ Get down! ” he screamed 
 
 “ Well, now they definitely know you ’ re still here, ” said the boy, “ You ’ re not making my job any easier you know. Tom told me to keep you alive, so right now I need you to keep moving. ” 
 
 His mind was blank. Entirely enwrapped with the image in front of him, just past his knuckles, stood an impossibility his brain couldn ’ t understand. His brain skipped and stuttered, but couldn ’ t make it past the very basic information his eyes gave him. 
 
 He didn ’ t say anything, still unable to understand what he was seeing, but he did start moving again. 
 
 “ Good. Now, you have to make it to the brownie over there. ” Said the boy 
 
 *Brownie? * 
 
 The boy pointed and his eyes followed. A M2 Browning machine gun, poking out from under a body ahead, glinted in the sun as he focused on it. It wasn ’ t far, but between him and the gun the embankment he was hiding behind dipped and left him exposed to the cliff. 
 
 “ Don ’ t worry. In a second, the rest of your battalion is going to open fire. Somebody is finally taking charge over there. This is your only shot though, if you don ’ t move now, there might not be another chance. ” Said the boy 
 
 Ignoring the fact of the boy himself, his head clicked over his options and buoyed them with the sound what he thought was a confident voice in cover from below him, rising like a hopeful note after a despondent movement. He crawled and paused at the gap, moments later, the chatter of Springfields and the cling of empty Garands erupted. Faster than he thought he could move, he closed the gap to the machine gun, pried it loose and waited for a moment. Enemy gunfire countered the first salvo and he took his chance. 
 
 He ripped the gun off the ground and stumbled forward a few feet, plopping the barrel on the edge of the ridge, falling into place behind the sight and squeezing a hail of bullets into the rocks where he ’ d seen enemy earlier. 
 
 *Controlled bursts, just like practice. * 
 
 He counted hits until he lost track and the belt ran out. Cries of triumph erupted behind him as he pulled himself and the weapon back to cover. 
 
 “ Thanks. ” He said. 
 
 No reply came and as he flipped his head, looking for the boy, still unable to understand his presence, but able to appreciate it. Gone—just another moment of lost expectation. Another moment and he watched the remaining members of his battalion sprint past him, heading towards the base of the cliff. 
 
 “ Tom misses you and wants you to come home, so stay safe. ” Said the voice. 
 
 He didn ’ t look around this time, but charged forward. 

