Monte Grappa

4,436 years since initial death
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He had so many questions, but he didn't know where to even start.

She started by speaking to him first. "I know you're in shock, but I knew you were immortal for hundreds of years. After Madrid, I tried moving on. I traveled the world, learning more about this continent before I had seen you again. You were in Venice. I believe your name was Marco at that time, right?"

"Venice too?" Matteo's tone had darkened, forcing him to stare back menacingly rather than surprised. "Where were you when I needed help? You knew I was there and yet you did nothing?"

Valerie paused for a moment, it looked as if she was about to answer back immediately but closed her mouth instead. She seemed upset for a second, even staring at the ground trying to think of a response. "I tried."

Matteo had raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to finish. She told him the truth. "The moment I realized who you were, you executed me with a bolt to my head. I just stood there, watching you as you killed so many mercenaries before coming outside with a crossbow. If you had taken a second to pay close attention, maybe you would have never pulled the trigger."

For a minute, none of them made a sound. The only thing they could hear was a distant explosion. While they talked, the battle outside was beginning to reach its peak. Much like the British had done on Bunker Hill, the Austrian-Hungarians were launching a final attack by sending everything they had. Even the remarkable Italian defense was beginning to crumble by this brutal assault.

Matteo turned his head towards the door. He needed to get out there and put an end to it. Although he had so many questions for Valerie, a part of him set them aside. She's immortal just like him. No matter what happens next, she's not going anywhere; not ever again.

"Go." Valerie said. She knew what he was thinking of. In her hand was a Colt M1911, a standard British firearm. "I won't stop you from going out there. Whether you die or not, you will return and I will be right here waiting for you. I've waited six hundred years for you, I can certainly wait some more."

Carefully taking the pistol from her hand, Matteo holstered it. "Six hundred years of torment."

"What?" Valerie looked back at him with a bit of unease. She's noticed the way he's looked at her this whole time and it was beginning to worry her.

"I grieved and mourned for you." He spoke in a serious matter, dropping a hint of sadness in his voice that was masked by his anger. "You wouldn't believe the things I've done after your death. All the people I've killed, all the wars I partook in; everything I did as a result of Madrid. I spent six hundred years torturing myself and this world for failing to keep you alive."

That's when he glared at her, finally showcasing his wrath. "All of that, and you weren't even fucking dead to begin with."

Before Valerie could even respond, he walked out of the house, leaving the door to close behind him on its own. Out in the open, he was instantly met with the familiar presence of warfare. An allied biplane immediately flew directly overhead, heading towards the battlefield.

Finally, he ran. Just the way he ran through the rooftops of Pompeii and Madrid, he ran with everything he had. He maintained his stamina and adrenaline in the process. In the near distance was an Italian motorbike. It was the one Valerie had used to drive her way up here in the first place.

He wasted no time in starting it, riding down the valleys. The bike was suited for the terrain, despite it still being a fairly bumpy ride. It was incredible to think of how far humanity has come up to this point. Less than a hundred years ago, this method of transportation would have seemed impossible.

Soon enough, the drastic scenes of war could be seen in the horizon. The battle had finally reached its climax as explosions covered the blue sky and craters were left scattered across the fields. The Central Powers, Austrian-Hungarians, had finally launched their final offensive. It was an all out frontal assault.

The Italian defense still held strong, attempting to advance through the caves below and the fields above. Everything was at stake here if they fail to defend these mountains. If the Central Powers succeed and take Monte Grappa, then the whole region would become theirs. It would give them the chance to topple down the Italian army once and for all.

By the time Matteo arrived with the rear groups, some of the Italian infantry were ready to advance further. They were finally able to take on the offensive role and change the tide of the battle. He was handed a Carcano M1891 rifle, it wasn't a weapon he was very familiar with, but it would be enough to get the job done.

They charged through the mountain range, climbing over rocks in the way or using them as cover. Cobblestone walls also proved to be useful when ducking from enemy fire. Peeking from the walls, they could fire a few shots before taking cover again, as the fight continued its heavy constant hellfire.

One thing about war that never changes throughout the ages is the scream of a man. In fear or bravery, ready to fight, or surrender. The weapons may change, so can the tools and the war machines; but the hearts and souls of men will always stay the same. No matter what side they may be on, they risk taking their last breaths for their country and their cause, however it may seem to others.

As Matteo rushed through a few trenches, he was met with heavy resistance. The sounds of bullets spraying his surroundings were overwhelming. When he made it back to ground level atop the valley, he was met with a few Austrians. All of them had their rifles fixed on him.

None of them were given the chance to open fire. By this point, Matteo's mind had been clouded. In between thoughts, Violet appeared just to torment him. Every time he thought of her, he was reminded of everything he's had to suffer and endure. It was enough to drive him mad as his wrath took control.

His reflexes were godlike, allowing him to open fire immediately and kill one soldier before dropping to the ground. They had taken their shots at him, missing their target as he unexpectedly charged towards them. The situation escalated into close quarters combat, forcing him to use his rifle as a melee weapon.

Matteo wasted no time in beating them down. Each strike was delivered with a certain hatred. He wrestled one man to the mud, pounding his face before reaching for his sides. It's when he pulled out a combat knife and used it to jab his enemy multiple times out of vicious anger. Every jab was contributed by his screams of frustration and war cries.

Hurling the knife to his side, it struck another Austrian in the neck as he was tackled against a wall by the Immortal. His neck was forcefully snapped. Matteo turned his head to spot an armored German tank drive by. It hadn't noticed him, but he had an idea.

Running into another Austrian soldier, he disarmed him only to grab his neck and run forward with him. Nearing the tank, Matteo reached for his enemy's pockets, finding a hand grenade. He drastically pulled the grenade's cord and placed it back into the soldier's pockets.

Finally, he shoved the soldier ahead. The Austrian fell to the ground, right in front of the tank. He had no time to stand as the tank rolled over him, crushing him immediately. Suddenly, an explosion rocked the tank. The grenade had reached its limit, exploding underneath as it brought the tank to a halt.

When the tank's hatch was opened, its driver poked his head out. He was shot in between the eyes once Matteo reached for his Colt pistol.

Right behind him, one final Austrian soldier charged at him with a knife. Matteo had sensed this, turning around and swinging the butt-end of his pistol to strike his enemy in the face. The soldier was knocked to the ground as Matteo straightened his gun and took aim.

But he couldn't kill him. This time, Matteo simply couldn't do it. Not when he saw the face of his enemy.

The Austrian he beat to the ground appeared to be no older than sixteen years old. He was merely a child. He was looking up at him with great fear and sorrow in his eyes.

That was the harsh reality he had to face, for even teenagers found themselves on the front lines. The kids would lie about their age to get recruited, knowing the army was desperate to enlist any man who can fight. The battlefield was full of young souls.

Taking a deep breath, Matteo kept his gun fixed on his enemy. No matter how he looked at it, there was no way he could pull the trigger. He gritted his teeth as a tear rolled down his cheek. The thought of Violet came up again. He looked at this teenage boy and saw only pain and suffering. Six hundred years of hell, no one should live the way he did.

At this very moment, he fought back his emotions. The young boy kept his hands up, whimpering in fear. Matteo continued to aim his weapon, noticing his hands were shaking. "Why couldn't you have stayed home?"

He didn't know what to do. The memories were flowing through his mind, each one feeling like a stab in the back.

"Why couldn't you have just stayed home?!" When his voice was raised, his limit had been reached. No matter how hard he resisted his urges, his vision was beginning to fade. His screaming continued as he battled his own mind.

Then he saw Violet inside his mind again. It caused him to become silent.

Without further hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

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Historical Notes:

Colt M1911

Trench warfare became a staple of WWI, with armies spending months digging trenches. These were often muddy and infested with rats, forcing hundreds soldiers to be cramped together in these maze-like structures for days at a time. Trench massacres were common when an enemy side invades, resulting in the mass slaughter of hundreds easily that could form a river of blood in the trenches.

A German A74 Sturmpanzerwagen (Armored Assault Vehicle)

WWI saw the usage of chemical warfare in the frontlines. Mustard and chlorine gas were the most common, causing widespread suffering and death to thousands of soldiers.

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