*This chapter will not be complete until Friday April 24, 2017 at around 10 p.m.  Sorry for the inconvenience.*

I stifled back a scream.  In everything I've ever witnessed in my life, the horrendous actions I witnessed is by far the worst.  

The barrack reeked of rot and blood; tinging in the air with the magic.  Through he flickering of the light bulb hanging overhead, I caught glimpses of men suffering from the causes of the Elite.

~~

I turned to Royce, to grab on to him, for something to anchor me to the ground, but he was already busy with work, helping another soldier with his wounds.  His brows furrowed and his eyes held worry as he inspected the soldier's leg; he appeared to be unsure of his own actions.  The man had blood seeping from his wound, along with a light lilac foam intermixing.  The Elite designed the attack to show us exactly what they are made up of; grit, knowledge, and technology so advanced they are finding new ways to torture and kill the human race.

Our camp wasn't designed to keep us harbored from the war; it's another battlefield.

"I'm not sure what we are gunna do," I hear Royce mumble to a man who joined him by the soldier's leg.  "He's loosing a lot of blood, and his leg is beyond infected."

"You're the Doc," the man replied.  "Do what you think is best." 

Royce frowned, lines appearing on his tanned skin.  "Being an animal caretaker doesn't make me a certified doctor to preform amputations."