George Small: #1

I don’t know to whom and for what purpose writing right now. Perhaps I’m writing to my mother and father. They are the only two I have back home. Perhaps I write to keep my sanity. Every thing’s changed around camp. The most obvious change is in the men. We are no longer exited about the discoveries that lie ahead. We are bored, there’s so much energy waiting to be released. The second change is in Geier and his decisions.

Ever since his snobbish son died, there have been no more scouting missions. Every exploration was cancelled. Instead of treading through unknown territory, we sit and play cards all day. He barely comes out of his study. He’s a vampire. I understand that he’s hurt because of his son, but let’s face it, no one really liked Alfonso anyway.

Last night, finally, Geier emerged from his quarters. He walked towards Streeter, the guy in charge of weapons. He said: “Give weapons to every member of E3.” I was given two rifles. We were packed into a jeep and we traveled southwards. We traveled until we hit a small village. The captain turned to face us. His face was cold and hard like stone. “Shoot everyone of them.”

I turned around to observe my fellow troop members. Were they agreeing and complying with the massacre. Before I could set my eyes on anyone, I heard shots fired. They were joined by hundreds of others, drowning the sound of screams and shrieks of fear.

I don’t know what happened then. A wave of frenzied heat emanated from the rest of the troop. I inhaled it and lost myself. I joined the ones that had left the jeeps and began running with them towards the center of the village. We were a pack of wolves with guns for our claws and fangs.

We left no survivors. We arrived back at sunset. The sky was tainted with blood, a mirror to the puddles of blood we left in the sands of the village.

I’m ashamed of what I did, but mostly I’m ashamed of the feelings I got from it. It felt good to see others fall to their knees crying for mercy even when they knew they wold not get it. It felt good to have the power of a god in my hand, to determined whether someone was to live or die.

A fire started today in the encampment. I don’t think anyone will come out unharmed.

Journal Entry #1

Nothing is ever as it seems. Never. When we landed in the desert three weeks ago, I saw my life’s dream unfold before my eyes. It seemed so real, I was helpless and could not help but be blinded by it. In my vision, I was a tru explorer. I owen no one anything and had no ties to any plce or person. I went wherever I pleased and left my mark and name on the places I discovered. I was such a fool.

The bastards, yes there are bastards, even in this new world. There’s a bunch of them, many more than we expected. They have some technology but none to match ours. They look much like us but their heart is rotten and disgusting. they have no soul and if they have one is for evil.

Today, early int he morning, I sent out a troop of scouts to travel north. The purpose of this was to unite the scout patrol and E1 so that they may return to base camp together. I received reports from the scout patrol that they had successfully joined E1 but had found some locals on their way.The informant did not give any figures. However, he did say that the locals had gotten their hands on guns.

E1 and the scout patrol set to the chase. Suddenly a bastard began to shoot at them. Three men fell to the bullets. That was the end of the report. Towards noon, when E1 was supposed to make their appearance in base camp, I sent another scout troop, this time they were fully armed.

They came upon a massacre. E1 and the scout patrol were all slain mercilessly. Cars and trucks had exploded. A handful of bodies were on fire. there was one survivor.  My son, Alfonso. He is in the medical wing right now. There is a wooden arrow sticking out of his shoulder. The arrow has a blue feather attached to it. Alfonso has a fever and is constantly vomiting.

The doctors tell me he will be better by tomorrow.

The Villain of Fruit

I just chopped up some pineapple. So juicy and so strong in flavor, it’s one of my favorite fruits. But I hate it how pineapples scold your tongue if you have too much. Th pineapple is a siren in a way, it lures its prey only to reject it with a burned wound. I know it because I always fall on the same trap. I just did 10 minutes ago. My tongue hurts.

In celebration of this infamous and famous treat. Here’s a quick drawing: