The Bleeding Sound

There was a soft chilling wind blowing. The full moon watched over the great vast lands of Brazil.

A guard sat on a large rock, bored. He was stationed at the sector of the jungle to stand vigil in case of enemy forces. He was to radio back to the encampment to alert them of enemy forces.

The guard sat with blue eyes and short blonde hair. He wore green cameo pants with body armour with green cameo as well. There was a large backpack hanging from his back. His name was Stephen Stook.

But it was a boring job. The Fire Keepers have posted a small force in the forest for operation: Blind Strike. For there was the opposing forces have their main force stationed in a base south of the Blind Strike’s outpost. Praying Mantis, the sworn enemy of the Fire Keepers will be destroyed.

Operation Blind Strike is to strike secretly and devastating. They are to sneak into the enemy’s fortress and neutralize as many enemy soldiers as possible quietly. As soon as Blind Strike is exposed, they will be overwhelmed. The force’s purpose is to push the enemy off balance. Then the time is right for the Fire Keeper’s main forces to charge straight on like a raging bull.

Blind Strike will have lured the ants out from their hill. And the raging bull’s hooves will be the bombardment, splattering the ants. The horns will be the bullets. The body will be the soldiers of the Fire Keepers.

And this guard knew the Praying Mantis wasn’t aware of Operation Blind Strike. So, his duty as a sentry was complete bullshit. So he sat there, bored out of his mind.

He signed as he watched a red fox in the distance sniff at the trees. The guard knew the red fox was getting a firm understanding of what great predator prowled this territory.

He jumped in surprise as his radio buzzed on. “Red to Stephen, ” the radio buzzed. “Come in Stephen, report! Damn it Stephen, don’t tell me your taking another dump when your suppose to be on watch.”

He sighed as he shook his head as he switched on his radio. “…I’m here Red, stop bitching,” Stephen said into the radio. “There’s nothing to report. All that is happening is slow ass evolving animals, water flowing, and growing plants and trees. Want me to learn what makes the water always flow east?”

“Ha ha ha, shut the hell up, smart ass,” Red radioed back. “ Only following protocol. It’s our job to stay alert and prepared for anything.”

“Yeah?” Stephen asked. “And what happens when your job is fucking bullshit? Its kind of hard… to stay alert and prepared when you get a shitty job.”

The stoic Stephen switched off his radio. “Yeah yeah, just do your job, Red out,” the radio buzzed open for the last time.

Stephen stared blankly into space as his mind was in deep thought about his crappy life. “Yeah… I’ll do my job,” he said faintly.

When he finished, he rose to his feet. Gripped his rifle firmly as he went on a walk through Sector Seven.

For hours he wandered around his sector. He looked at everything at least twice before moving on. He stood in one spot for several minutes. Stephen kept to the shadows as though he was the assassin himself.

After he felt he made sure he was the only man with a gun in his sector, he sat back on the same rock he was sitting on early. And there he sat idly for an unknown amount of time.

His eyes went wide when he noticed a shadow crept across the tree before him. He slowly rested his hand on the handle of his knife. He could hear breathing in the wind that was coming from behind him. An enemy soldier was behind him!

In one quick movement, Stephen dashed behind the enemy, kicked out his knee. He grabbed him tightly about the neck and pressed the knife’s edge against the neck of the enemy. He savoured the moment before he delivered his enemy to hell.

Before he slit the enemy’s throat. “Wait, wait, stop!” The enemy cried out. “Its me Red!”

Stephen confused at first, released his comrade. “Red?” He asked. “You fucking idiot, what the hell were you doing? You’d be died now if I didn’t pause before the killing blow.”

Red on one knee, coughed and coughed before he rose to his feet, with a smile on his face. “Just seeing if you were prepared and alert,” Red answered…

You are dark, death, the silent blade, Wade Giizis said to himself. You are the shadow that creeps in the darkness. You are the arrow… of annihilation.

He kneeled down. Before him was a bowl of burning sage. The smoke clouded the ojibwai brave’s lodge. He inhaled deeply the smoke of the sage. He carried the smoke all around his body. The smoke of the sage took the fear away and gave the brave courage.

When the sage was black ash, he picked up his hunting knife and cut his palm open. Blood dripped into the bowl. He mixed his blood and the sage ash together. When it was mixed, he placed his fingers in the bowl and painted his face.

His radio buzzed open. “Agent Giizis, come in,” the radio buzzed. “ This is Major Lone.”

Giizis finished painting his face as he took a deep breath and took the radio. “This is Agent Giizis,” Giizis answered. “Go ahead Major.”

“Intelligence has found the Praying Mantis and the Fire Keepers are south of your position,” the radio buzzed on. “ General Wolfman has gave the go ahead. Eliminate—everyone, spare no one, Major Lone out.”

At the moment, Giizis rose to his feet. Strapped on his body armour where he held his tomahawk, sheathed his hunting knife, and sled on his quiver filled with arrows. One hustler lay against his leg where it held his single Desert Eagle pistol.

“It will be an endless night,” Giizis said coldly.

And he was gone with a wave of wind…

The jungle was silent as the wind swept through the vast forest of Brazil. Clouds crept across the black skies. Two sentries stood in front of the gate into the Fire Keeper camp.

They were standing as statues since the fall of night. So disciplined, they hadn’t said a word, moved an inch, or flinched.

One guard was looking straight at the heavy jungle leaves. A leaf moved. He winced as he blinked twice. He looked over at his comrade.

Two sharp winds echoed through the air. The two sentries gasped breathlessly for air as blood leaked down from their lips. Their legs were dangling as they were pinned to the gate by an arrow in their hearts. Their legs had begun to tremble violently as blood slowly dripped down the gate door.

A lone soldier emerged from the jungle. He walked calmly over to the gate where he jerked the arrows free of the gate and released the dead guards to drop on the cold ground.

The lone soldier wiped clean the blood on the tip of his arrows and dropped them back in his quiver. He glanced twice at the nine-foot tall gate and jumped and climbed over it. Dropped into the base into a low crouch where he slowly took a moment to grasp a good understanding of his surroundings.

He saw rows and rows of small cabins as he crept to the shadows silently along the walls. Slowly, he pulled free his hunting knife. He listened hard. He heard footsteps nearing.

The brave watched as the patrolman walked passed the two cabins. Quickly, he darted to the patrolman. His hunting knife stabbed the patrolman in the back. The blade ripped out from his chest as the blood sprayed everywhere. His hand wrapped around the victim’s mouth to prevent him from screaming. And dragged the dead patrolman into the darkness…

“Look at this flush boys!” The drunken soldier demanded, feeling those strong drinks fully. “Read them and weep!”

The drunken winner threw his perfect hand of cards against the table. All three other gambling soldiers sighed and cursed as they threw down their cards back in the table in frustration. He reached over the table and raked in all the chips on the table.

The light was dim and gloomy as it swung to and fro. Big mugs filled with strong content. The table had spill stains and cigar ash in odd places. Poker chips were all over the table.

The dealer gathered up all the cards and started to shuffle. “So Rick I hear your going home in a couples days,” the dealer said as he shuffled the cards.

Rick, the drunk that was winning most of the hands looked back at the dealer. “Yeah, that’s right,” he replied.

“Got any plans once you’re done with all this bullshit?” the dealer asked as he dealt out the cards.

Rick grabbed his cards and saw a beautiful hand, but made no sign of its beauty. “Plane back to Chicago,” he started, “hug my dear daughter and kiss my wife for the first time in eight years.”

The others laughed at the sentimental fool. Rick just sent glare their way and they went quiet.

They all heard the door open and loud boots walked on the hard wood. They all stared at the hooded soldier. His face was hidden in the shadows of his hood.

Quickly, the hooded soldier pulled free his Desert Eagle from his hustler. He took aim to the head of a gambling soldier and pulled the trigger slowly. As the bullet left the chamber, Rick’s head jerked back as the blood and brains splattered against the wall, blowing him clear off his chair.

The pistol was loud and left a lasting ring in the ears of those nearby. The others were given no time to gasp in fright. He took aim and pulled the trigger three more times. They were all killed with no remorse, for the hooded soldier, sealed his heart away before he begun his hunt.

The four soldiers were lying in a pool of their own blood. They were still and peaceful. The hooded soldier was gone in a wave of wind…

The sky was turning red as morning was fast approaching. The cold dew of night was beginning to leave the lands and dry in the burning hold of the sun. It was time for the creatures of night to slumber and the creatures of day to awaken.

Red and Stephen were walking through the vast jungle. The walk was quiet and very unpleasant for both. Stephen kept his eyes to ground before his feet as he walked.

He noticed Red had stopped. Stephen glanced at his comrade. Red appeared shock at what his eyes saw. So Stephen followed his gaze. He saw the two guards at the gate, dead and still.

Suddenly, the entire camp erupted in fire and smoke! The explosion blew Red and Stephen twenty feet from where they stood. Splinters as large as logs were blown away. The fire and smoke billowed up massively in the air.

One large splinter as large as spear sped across the air. Red sat up and his eyes went wide. The splinter flew like a spear into his heart where the impact alone crushed his lungs, dead in an instant.

Stephen sat up; he was deaf with a loud ringing in his ear. He blinked repeatedly. He couldn’t breath as he watched his camp go up in smoke. The flames of the explosion rumbled the earth and growled as though it was a mighty beast.

He saw something in the black smoke. He saw a faint dark figure in the smoke. The dark figure looked so deadly, so menacing, a natural born killer. Those dark brown orbs for eyes were cold as metal, burning with intense as hot as hell. The dark figure’s black hair was blowing in the wind so swiftly, so gracefully.

He was dressed with black, white, and grey cameo pants. Body armour protected his torso. A hustler along his right leg held his pistol. A bow and quiver was on his back. There was a bloody hunting knife clutched tightly in the dark hunter’s hand.

The dark figure slowly turned to look directly at Stephen. The Fire Keeper shook in fear and terror. He was afraid the dark figure will take his soul and without mercy.

Stephen slowly shut as he fell unconscious…