Eric is a grim, strait-laced Sergeant First Class. As a young Private First Class, he had arrived in the Army in the later years of the Iraq War. Now, he led a platoon of good, young soldiers. After a sweltering summer in Fort Hood, Texas, he was ready to get out of the military. Four deployments through ten years of service had left marks on his body and soul.
He sighed as he looked down at the reports in front of him. Only six of his soldiers had passed their weapons qualifications. Four of them had failed their PT tests. During the Field training exercise, not a single junior enlisted soldier had managed a proper brief. The soldiers of his current platoon were so young, the average age of the twenty soldiers was eighteen.
Sitting back in his chair, Eric noticed the first sergeant walking by. "Hey, Top, you got a second?" The first sergeant walked into the room, looking at Eric as he put a chew in his lip. "Yeah, what’s up, Dryer?" He responded while sitting down.
"I’m going to be straight with you Top, these kids are not ready," Eric said as he rubbed his face, handing his First Sergeant the report. Top laughed at Eric and patted him on the back.
"Neither were you, kid." He said jokingly as he reminisced about their deployment together.
"Who would have thought that you and I would be going on our last deployment together?" he said while chuckling.
"If told the assholes back then that Sergeant Hammond and Private Dryer were gonna be a First Sergeant and Sergeant First Class together, they would’ve laughed ya out of the room." Hammond got up from his seat while looking over his shoulder. "You got this, bud. We have three months. Surely you can get these kids ready. Now, go home. I know you like to stay at work because your wife left, but you’re still young. Get out there and live a little. If you don’t, I’m gonna put my boot up your ass."
Eric stood up, grumbling as he matched gazes with Hammond. "Roger that, Top." Eric said simply as he walked out of the office. There was no pushback that could win against Hammond when the man told a soldier to do something.
Once back at his house, Eric thought over what Hammond had said. It was true that since his ex wife left him, he had done little in the way of going out or enjoying life. He had mostly done what pretty much every soldier does: "drink until the memories don’t exist." Eric looked into the mirror, blue eyes with scarred memories and unkempt blonde hair stared back.
After sitting in his house with the lights off for an hour, sleep wasn’t coming to him. Eric decided to go play pool. His mind set, Eric showered and changed. He slicked his hair back, put on some black ariat boots, and wore his favorite combination of boot cut blue jeans with a black grunt style hoodie.
After arriving at the pool hall, Eric went to the table he felt most comfortable at. He and his ex wife Victoria always played in the corner where there was the most space. The newly cut cloth of each diamond table gleaned against the bright lights hanging overhead, sharply contrasting to the dimly lit bar elsewhere.
As Eric practiced some drills with his new Viking cue, three men approached him. One of the men he recognized. It was Jonny Vargas. Eric and Johnny had always had a bit of a rivalry in their pool league days. Jonny looked at Eric as he practiced and smirked.
"Hey man, its been a while. Wanna play some?" Eric sighed in resignation. It is true that he came here to play, but he didn’t really want to deal with this clown. "Whatever, I can just beat him a few times, and then he will go away." Eric thought to himself as he nodded to Jonny. "Sure, just don’t be too sad when you lose."
Throughout the three games they played, Jonny got louder and louder. With each consecutive loss, his buddies cheered him on while laughing. With each missed shot, Jonny would make excuses.
"Fuck! I haven’t played in so long! He said after missing a corner shot. Eric had said very little throughout their matches, simply beating Jonny with the quiet confidence he always carried. After the second game, Jonny went from being obnoxious, to irate. "I see why you are so good now! Victoria left you, so you have more time to sit back and practice."
Dead silence hit the bar. The air seemed to sit still. Eric’s face glowered as he walked like a predator stalking its prey towards Jonny. Jonny stood his ground, laughing at Eric’s reaction. "What are you going to do, Soldier boy?" Jonny teased, throwing chalk at Eric. "You gonna sit at the bar, drinking your jack and holding onto your ring like you used to?"
Eric’s face darkened as he stepped closer, now mere inches from the other man. "Take it back, you scumbag." Eric growled, his eyes narrowing with a scowl draped on his face.
Jonny’s buddies decided to egg the situation on as they mirrored Jonny.
"Oh, so scary." One of them said. "I need to call my mommy." The other said, and the goons burst into laughter. "Shut the fuck up, Eric. No one is scared of you. You’re just mad that Jonny can give Victoria what she needs, and you can’t." The second man said while stepping up to Eric. "Everyone here knows you are a clown. We aren’t scared, so get out of here."
Jonny woke up with a start as a bright light shined on his face. He looked around, and a sharp pain on his face caused him to gasp. He saw Eric being taken away by cops, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He remembered the last scene he could before waking up. Eric had seemed to move too fast for the human mind to comprehend. As Eric was taken away in cuffs, Jonny muttered "Fucking monster."