"Alright, rookies, here's your first battle."
A smile splits his face as we look at each other, young eyes going wide as we see them approach in the distance. We were supposed to be fighting Pakistanis... what are those?
"Now, these aren't exactly Pakistanis," he says, seeming to read our minds, "that was a bit of a lie."
They reach the bottom of the hill and wait, an few dozen lanky, sickly grey things just staring at us with their stupid stretched frowns and pale eyes. They wait and the hill is eerily silent.
The sergeant grins, shooing away the experienced squadron that was supposed to help us.
"Wh-why'd you do that?" somebody mumbles. I turn and see it's the babyfaced 20-year-old who applied to help with college. His face is wet, probably with nervous tears.
"Why don't I show you, soldier?" he laughs, roughly grabbing the boy's arm. Their eyes are alight with glee and fear, respectively. "Say adiós, muchachos," he mumbles.
Then he throws the boy off the hill, tumbling and screaming the whole way down. He lands in the middle of the things, and...
it ain't pretty.
"You see," he says, his boots clicking despite soil under his feet, "these guys aren't easy to kill."
He flashes an eye back to us. Silence picks up on the hill, the air free of the boy's screams. "So we decide to appease them, instead."
His face is alight with maniacal glee, and suddenly men approach us and give us all rough shoves, rolling towards the things.
"And remember," he shouts, his words tumbling down the hill after us, "you were all useless!"
The beasts look at us, a couple humans in a sea of those things.