Donny stood in his cell one last time.
Ran a hand along the scratched wall. Tapped his boot against the familiar crack in the floor near the drain.
He exhaled. Long. Slow.
"I'll miss this shithole," he muttered.
He didn't mean it.
Not entirely.
But something about the silence... the size... the smell... it was real.
And real had its own kind of gravity.
He turned.
Didn't look back.
⸻
Bird didn't even blink.
He stood as they opened the door. Walked out with no questions. No hesitation.
Just another hallway. Just another chapter.
Just another space to shed.
⸻
Chris stood at the threshold of his cell for a long time.
He didn't move when the guard motioned.
Didn't speak.
He had once walked with a bounce in his step. Made jokes. Made noise.
Now he barely made a sound.
He didn't cry.
He didn't even breathe loud.
He was so quiet, the guard had to tap him twice just to get him moving.
A toy. A tool. Malleable. Replaceable. Nothing.
⸻
The compound was silent when they left.
No guards. No sirens.
Just the smell of blood in the air and the slow buzz of flies.
The firing line was still there-bodies crumpled, half-covered in dirt and sun-bleached cloth.
No one moved them.
No one would.
⸻
Their departure was smooth. Quiet. Well-planned.
Each man was given fresh clothes, clean shoes, and a travel case.
Nothing inside.
Nothing they wanted to take.
⸻
Tokyo
When they landed, it was... surreal.
Cheering crowds lined the streets. Japanese civilians waved flags, smiling and shouting. Cameras flashed. Flower petals rained from overhead.
People clapped as the American survivors walked by-cleaned up, dressed, disinfected.
They were heroes.
Exhibits.
A proof of victory.
Donny didn't smile.
Bird didn't wave.
Chris didn't even look up.
⸻
Each man was taken separately to an apartment.
Big. Clean. Fully furnished.
Donny opened the fridge three times, just to see if it really stayed cold.
Chris stared at the microwave like it was alien tech.
Bird ran his hand across the smooth wood of the kitchen table, then sat down on the floor in the corner.
When the officers left, they all did the same thing.
Tested.
Pulled drawers. Checked doors. Flushed toilets. Tapped walls.
No cameras.
No eyes.
Just silence.
⸻
That night:
Bird slept on the floor by the sliding door. Didn't trust the bed. Didn't want it.
Chris curled into a corner, knees to chest, eyes wide open.
Donny started in the bed. Then moved to the closet. The dark was tight. Familiar. He stayed there.
He screamed in his sleep.
More than once.
⸻
Mason
He moved into the apartment he was given, but it never felt like home.
He stayed one night.
Then packed up.
The maid-Aiko-welcomed him. Quietly. No celebration. No big reunion.
He unpacked slowly. Cooked quietly. Slept beside her on a small futon.
When she wasn't looking, he stared at the ceiling.
He was free.
And completely, utterly alone.
⸻
And so life in Japan began.
Bright streets. Quiet rooms.
Peaceful cages.
YOU ARE READING
The Island
HorrorIn the final days of World War II, a group of American soldiers stationed in Okinawa find themselves living in an uneasy paradise-sunlight, silence, and nothing to do but wait. But when the enemy returns, everything changes. Captured and thrown into...
