So I recently talked about how I made a book... Felt like I should share an excerpt to get you guys interested.

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Prologue

The world around her was up in flames… It burnt... so much. Every last bit of her wished to not go on with this.. not live through this hell that she was thrust in... but she wasn’t in it alone. There her team was, stranded in the middle of no man’s land, one goal in mind. Rescue the boys at the frontlines and go home. Little did they know that this little convoy of 4 were all going to burn.
“Get it moving! To the frontlines, now!”
“Affirmative!”
The roar of the engine served to heighten the sounds of despair, drowning out in the horrid cacophony of warfare. It was deafening. The dread only worsened when a voice came through on the radio.
“Myla, get your ass down here! We’re losing men! We’re being slaughtered!”
He yelled out. His voice sounded frantic.. scared... desperate, even… ominous sounds followed…. an unfamiliar screech of… something Myla had never heard before.
“We’ll be there in about a few minutes, Darius, just hold on! BORIS, PUSH IT!”

Her cry of desperation was followed by the drop of a gear. Every turn Boris took was a deadly gamble between reaching in time or flipping over the truck
“I’M GOING AS FAST AS I CAN FOR CHRIST SAKE!”

“NOT FAST ENOU-”
Her voice was cut-off by indistinct radio chatter and hellish screams. The screech became more clear, it sounded as if something flew by.
“Darius…? Darius, Do you copy?... SHIT. BORIS, GET THIS THING THERE BEFORE THEY ARE ALL DEAD!”
“MAYBE IF YOU’D LET ME MAKE SURE WE DON’T DIE BEFORE THAT”

“Goddamnit… why weren’t we told sooner?”
Hearing those two, a third voice barges in, yelling through the echoing sounds of the infernal warfare surrounding them.
“THIS ISN’T WORTH IT MYLA, HE’S GOING TO GET KILLED. WE SHOULD’VE STAYED BACK!”
Rage welled in her heart. He dared to ask what the lives of the men fighting was worth... He was grabbed by the collar and was forced to stare into the eyes of death… and death itself spoke to him.
“How about you tell his family that, jackass?”
Myla let go when she heard the screech again, and she looked outside. While the convoy of trucks diesel’ed forth, an A-Class fighter flew by, low and slow. Following it were missiles.
“Nice try, dipshit!”
The trucker behind Boris exclaimed as the defense systems on the roof of the truck roared to life and launched counter attacks, taking out the incoming barrage of missiles. It was a sight to see. The light that came from the explosions was blinding. It looked like fireworks.
“See that, Myla? Pure Irish pow-... Wait, What the hell?”
His pride didn’t last long. Confusion soon replaced it. Another salvo of... missiles (?) beelined its way toward the APC unit, The defense systems failed to keep up with onslaught. Myla saw it unfold, she ran to the back and saw Brighid look at the skies, terrified.
“Wait... no...”
That was the last thing they heard. There was an impact, then an explosion. A bright, blue light engulfed the entire area before subsiding into an unforgiving flame. If anyone survived the initial hit, they’d burn to death. The truck had been destroyed.
“BRIGHID, NO!”
“Oh god...”

“Holy shit… what in hell’s name was that”

Myla saw each of her friends lose hope, one by one. She looks around, seeing a slew of men and women going insane. Noone expected that to happen, the countermeasures were supposed to work.
“BORIS, BRIGHID AND THE OTHERS ARE DEAD! WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?”
Fear settled in after she exclaimed. The A-class was slowly coming in for another round.
“YOU THINK I KNOW? OUR COUNTERMEASURES WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ENOUGH FOR THIS SH-”
“God-damnit... Myla... We can’t hold off much longer. Please, tell my wife I love h-” [Cut-off by gunshots]

Darius’ voice came through for seemingly the last time. All Myla heard after that was guns and bombs through the radio. The battlefield outside the truck was worse. Innocent civilians-turned dead ashes went by while Boris did everything to get there in time. 3 trucks remained in that hellscape. All with one goal... get the soldiers from the frontlines back home, to their families... and the clock was ticking.
“No... no... NO NO DARIUS JUST A LITTLE MORE WE’RE ALMOST THERE… GODDAMNIT!”
Myla was losing everything. She hadn’t never failed before this. Boris barely managed to keep the thing upright. Her team was despondent.. huddled together, and the clock started ticking.

Getting to the frontlines was practically a suicide mission now. Perhaps it always was. Myla knew that they wouldn't make it in time... but she still wanted to hold out hope… It’s what her father would do.
“...Boris... How much longer?”

The screech of the A-class grew closer as they spoke. It was coming in for another round.
“We’re nearly there, Myla… Shit, that thing is coming back…”
“Oh god...” [Radio from the truck in front of them]
The truck in front of them gets blown up by another air-to-ground as the A-class roars by. The darkest depths of despair really settle in. Nothing was working and they were now practically sitting ducks. Their very being was being toyed with as one question took over everyone. Who’s next?

“Holy shit. They’re… ”
Boris said, after barely managing to avoid the debris. Once living men and women dropped down like ragdolls, scattered across the field. All the sounds and rumbles droned out... Silent whispers settled in... as if the dead were talking to her. She grabbed her head, confused... lost... losing resolve. Boris’ shaky voice comes through as he stops the truck.

“Myla! we’re here! They... They should be around here somewhere...”
The voice of Boris worked to break her disorientation.
“Let’s go, everyone! We’ve got to bring our boys back ho-”

Another explosion hits as the countermeasure systems fail to launch. Another truck full of people goes ablaze... Only Boris’ truck remains.

“Holy shit...”
Myla exclaimed while broken shards of destroyed metal flew by.
“GET OFF, NOW! LET’S FIND THESE MEN AND GO HOME!”

They get off and scatter, watching their friends get eaten alive by the deadly inferno. Terror engulfed everyone, logical reasoning ceased to exist. All they cared about is finishing the job and going home, back to their wives, husbands, children… They begin the search.
“They… They’re all.. Dead! I can’t find anyone alive!”

One of them says, None of them found anything but burnt bodies, too far gone to be saved. These were once people…... Myla Recognized one of them.
She sat down at Darius’ deformed corpse and just stared... The whispers grew louder than the sounds of the destruction that came from around her.
“Shit… THEY’RE DEAD, ALL OF THEM. HOW ABOUT WE FALL BACK BEFORE WE’RE DEAD TOO?”
The roar of the A-class grows louder... Myla nods, reluctantly, her senses snapping back… commanding everyone to retreat back to the truck.
“EVERYONE FALL BACK! BACK TO THE TRUCK, NOW!!”
They all start running back. If there was any sense left in them, it snapped away at that moment.

A good few manage to board early... ‘lucky’ they didn’t wander off too far. For once it seemed like maybe they’ll have found this solitude and freedom that they seek... maybe go home with Boris and meet their family...
The war however, had other plans. A loud buzz was followed by another blast. The rescue team has fallen. 4 Survivors remain. No truck to take them home. The A-Class booms by leaving behind a trail of holes in the ground made by its bullets along with 2 dead, bleeding corpses... They tried to run, screaming, begging something would save them, but they lay there lifeless now, burnt, twisted, broken.
“BORIS! NO!”
She yelled in a guttural scream. It felt like a big mistake... No-one except her and ‘Lance’ remained.
“They… They...”
He couldn’t complete it. He couldn’t get himself to say it. They were all dead. Killed in the most horrifying ways imaginable. Each and every last one of them becoming nothing but lifeless remains of a war. All she could do is kneel and watch her friends burn in an unforgiving blaze. The whispers were louder than ever; Nothing else remained in her conscience. She just stared into the never ending grayness. It was grim, dark and empty. Nothing but pain engulfed her.
“I… I led them all to their deathbed… what the hell have I done?”
Her Knees trembled, failing to stay upright… Down the little girl went. Hopelessly alone, waiting for her final judgment... an end to everything. She had nothing left. She just watched her ‘family’ die... like back then. Was it time for her to reunite with her loved ones? Was she even alive? Was this all a nightmare? make the voices stop... Someone PLEASE WAKE HER UP, WAKE HER U-
“Myla? what are you doing...?”
There was a pistol at the side of her head... her very own hands behind the trigger, trembling. There she lied on her knees... and for that very moment... the whispers faded away... The infernal echoes grew silent, she closed her eyes. Everything seemed so very peaceful. She was a moment’s notice away from pulling the trigger. There she was, amidst blood, rubble and char… alone.
“Father... I’m coming home”
“MYLA, NOOOO!”
A voice of what she could only think was an angel screamed out his lungs… Before she could pull the trigger, a strong force took an embrace over her. Both bodies came crashing down, the gun fell out of her hands.
“YOU F—KING ASSHOLE!”
It was the voice of ‘Lance’. He pinned her arms down and yelled out.

“I’VE LOST ENOUGH TO THIS WAR, ENOUGH IS GONE... Enough of us are dead!”
Tears welled up in his eyes. His leg was already in incomprehensible pain, it had been shot, but it paled in comparison to the pain of everything he lost....

“Please... don’t leave me alone like this...”

Myla... or what was left of her could barely talk back.

“We… Shouldn’t be alive… like them…”

But Lance pleaded. He couldn’t lose Myla too.

“But we’re still alive... we’ll hide somewhere till this place isn’t under attack anymore and then we’ll go home... Please, Myla... stay with me...”

“I don’t have a home to go back to.”

Myla’s voice was low and dead. It was monotonous. Lance couldn’t stomach it, he didn’t want her to be like this.

“I’ll help you find one... but you’re not dying here, not like this.”

And then only those two remained, surrounded by flames. They yearned to be set free from the nightmare they put themselves in… but noone was there to help, everyone else was dead. Myla looked at Lance’s leg… it had a hole in it. She picked him up and they carried each other… Onward they marched, hoping to find shelter and wait for someone to come. They found a place to hide not far away. Myla used a piece of cloth she found to clot his open wound and put him down to rest… as the hours passed, the smoke cleared. They were found by some locals… and were thankfully sent back home.

Chapter 1
A w a k e n i n g

6 Years went by since Myla and ‘Lance’ returned home. Never to be sent to the battlefield again. Both were sent to Rehabilitation and were asked to seek therapy. ‘Lance’ had lost his leg. It was too far gone to keep since the traces of Radion that the bullet left behind had too much of an effect on the cells. Had it been kept, his leg could’ve grown cancerous. He made things work with a decently priced prosthetic leg and worked towards his own better future along with weekly visits to a licensed therapist.
Myla on the other hand, never sought therapy, physical or mental, She never moved on. She closed off her world from everything else. Maybe she would’ve if any part of her being had any semblance of a soul remaining. But the voices ate away everything she thought she had. Myla had become a mindless, emotionless husk of flesh, roaming, lurking, lost and alone. She found herself a job that would pay her bills and stayed there with an average daily routine of 9-5 work hours and enjoying the rest. Enjoyment for her was talking to the voices that ate away at her soul day after day or listening to music in hopes to silence them for a while, like a schizophrenic. She was living a pathetic life... her war wasn’t over, regardless of the fact that it ended 2 years ago. The pain of withering away in that very field would haunt her every hour. It never stopped. How could it? Those poor souls never really found peace, did they? Days were flying past for her like an eternal loop of the same cycle.

Myla eventually figured out that the chaotic soundscape that breakcore would set helped her dis-associate a little. She found the smallest bit of comfort with the music she listened to. “Born of a star” by Izar had become one of her dailies. It stopped her breakdowns and panic attacks, but not necessarily all of the voices. Though it did help in killing off some of it. Almost everywhere she went, she’d be accompanied by some form of breakcore, likely ethereal, to keep her within the little bit of sanity she had remaining. One of these days came by where she opened her mails and checked for anything important from the company she was working in. She was instead greeted with an invisible title and opened it to see this..... ( You'll never know what it is unless )

UNLESS YOU GO

---HERE---

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Paperback will also be releasing soon!