"Soap" John McTavish

🎵🎵🎵

I'm sorry, my dear, I'm sorry.

All promise to save

A slight tremor of cold hands...

Sweet lies, enticing lips...

I'm sorry, my dear, I'm sorry...

🎵🎵🎵

The cold, bone-chilling winter seeped through every crack in the windows. Johnny sat in the small hunting lodge, the signal dead, unable to contact the team, the snow outside had thinned. He decided to go out and hunt for some game—there was definitely some in the forest. With that thought in mind, he dressed and went out.

Everything went well, one rabbit was shot, they'll come for it soon anyway, the snow is starting to subside, the sun came out and the mood improved.

Out of the corner of his ear he heard something like sobs and groans, without thinking twice, he decided to follow the sounds and after fifteen minutes of walking, he saw scarlet blood on the snow like a long path, quickening his pace, he froze in place and watched as you lay in the snow, blood flowing from your mouth and body, fingers blue from the cold, you had already resigned yourself to fate and silently looked at Johnny, he notices the sign of an enemy soldier on your uniform.

A highly moral person, but he doesn't overdo it.