Unexplored Unexplained

(1)

The year is February 1945 the beaches off of Iwo Jima are badly bloodied and are deeply disfigured from our bombers. Our main mission is to take the island of Iwo Jima and capture the two key air fields, in turn will cripple the Japanese empire. My mission is to sneak behind enemy lines and set up a sniper position and gather Intel on the defending Japanese. Darkness settles and I move out into the tree line. I hold my gun across my body. M1 Carbine not the most favoured of rifles, it has a reputation of being weak with little stopping power but I beg to differ, I intend to place my bullet where it counts. The Jungle comes to life at night with the tree branches bending down to say hello all the while jungle cats prance from tree to tree paying no mind to me scurrying across the jungle floor gun in hand and finger on the trigger. I slink through the forest with my eyes over my shoulder these damn Japs can pour out of the ground like fire ants. There are mass corridors underneath the ground where they hid and plan their attacks. Few men have explored these passageways and lived to tell about it.

(2)

I pass over a stream like a mirror it reflects itself back at me. My eyes are empty sockets, this war has taken many friends from me, my soul has died on the battlefield but my feet march on fighting the good fight. I have walked a far distance now according to my map the airfields lye well behind a thick set of jungle maybe two hours of steady bushwhacking. I have to be careful my machete is sharp and cuts through the wind but the enemy is wise and will notice such a disturbance in their habitat so I must saw through the vines rather than chop at them. I am picking up a heavy sweat it is like gravy for the bugs, sticking their needle noses into my skin and drawing out my blood. My hair on my neck stick in the air like a pissed off cat and the goose bumps creep down my back and into my legs, I have the feeling of eyes washing all over my body just waiting for a clear shot but it never comes. I am now deep into the jungle and sunlight is very far away I need the night for cover I must be in position before sunrise. Pushing my way through the brush and dipping below the branches the ground turns to quick mud as the rain pounds down on my helmet. I plant my feet with surety being wise, a bad slip and a broken ankle could be the end of me I would not only be an easy target but an easy meal for the creatures of the jungle.

(3)

I clear the jungle and I can see the pulsing lights of the airfields my heart pumps with speed as I make my decent towards my goal. Around heavy boulders and through tall grass I make my cover and steady my weapon. I begin to wonder about Kelsey this time of day she is surely cooking up a good meal for the kids as the dog spins around her ankles waiting for a dropped carrot if he is lucky maybe a chunk of meat, god I miss them the noise and all. I make my way to the end of the grass line and part the meadow with my gun and drop to one knee, a loud click goes off and my heart sinks, a cold sweat engulfs my body, I know this sound I have just kneeled upon a Japanese landmine. I look down at my knee all knowing to well this is the last time I will see them. My options are limited I dive off the mine and lose my legs and most likely my life or the enemy walks up to me and blast my face backwards ill, lose both my legs before I let those cowards do me in like that. I hold my heart and remember Kelsey’s face and pray for the best outcome and I leap backwards off my knee. The mine makes a few more clicks and white hot light fills my vision and searing pain overcomes all my thoughts. I scream and cry not caring who hears me as the skin begins to melt off my arms and neck; I kick my stump legs into the sky as a child would do when he throws a fit, the pain begins to be too much and I pass out.

(4)

I awake but not in a familiar way but suspended by ropes like a fly caught in a spider web, I look down in horror to notice I have nothing below the knees but stitches and my arms are nearly to the bone disfigured and weak. I scream in shear pain and confusion, I am underground and in some holding chamber, how I am alive is beyond my knowledge. I frantically look around, a large wood door connects the floor to the dirt ceiling I hang suspended and await an explanation. After hours of thought running through my mind the door begins to squeak and creeps open and the spider that has caught me stand before myself. A garment covers the person head to toe like an executioner or a master of forbidden torture. He slides through the door and around the room with shuffling of the feet leaving strange footprints behind, small feet with very long toes. He makes no acknowledgment of me but simply sweeps around the room eyes pinned to the floor. I scream out.

"Who are you and what am I doing here!"

Still nothing, only silence from the mystifying being. The man reaches into his cloak and unveils my rifle and places it upon a wooden desk in the corner of the room then shoots me an awkward glance, then speaks.

"You are from the land of America; you poison our lands with your dirty blood and you burn us from our homes you will tell me what
you know and why you are here!"

I am a proud man and my heart belongs to my wife and country he will have to peel my skin for information so I say nothing to him and keep quite. The man slides towards me and lurches at me with his claw, a hand I am sure that has conquered stronger men then I and snuffed out more souls then the war itself. The hand touches me upon the heart, my eyes shut tight with fear drawing tears at my eyes. The icy fingers pop the button on my chest pocket and retrieve a deck of cigarettes, The Global Cigarettes a popular brand in America my wife always said it would be the death of me. The figure fingers open the pack and thumbs one out and looks straight into my eyes.

"I am growing impatient, why are you on our land and what do you hope to achieve"

Again deep silence comes from me no matter how bad I wanted to scream out I hold strong with lips tight.

"Very well, then let the process begin"

The man holds out a single smoke in front of me and lights it for a brief moment I saw what lies beneath the dark cloak, a eye less face with long whiskers and sharp teeth like a mole some underground creature that I am sure was once a bright eyed person but now is a faceless rodent of the Japanese jungle.

(5)

I squirm in shock and disbelief as the mole-mans whiskers reach out with a life of their own and begin to dance on my face, I tug back but the ropes hold me in place as they perform their routine, I am sure they are searching for a soft spot to plant the cherry of the cigarette. I tug back with resilience and a few specks of dirt sprinkle on top my brow in all the confusion of backing away from the mole-mans tentacles I notice my bindings are loosening from the roof of the cavern, I pull hard with vigor again and again, my right hand is free and suddenly hope fills my heart just maybe I will survive. I reach for the bindings wrapped around my left hand and begin to free myself while doing so the cherry finds its mark, stuck to my neck the long shaft of the smoke, I shake violently but the cigarette melts and burrows deep in my skin. I come free and land hard upon the dirt surface; I fly swat the smoke out of my neck and begin my crawl. I must reach my rifle it is my only chance if I wish to escape this infestation, my hands grab hold of the Mole-mans legs and pull him to my level, on his back he laid as I scaled his body. On his body I sit with scabby knees stuck hard in the dirt, I fold my fingers around his throat and squeeze. I squeeze hard but my hands are weak and disfigured, I can hold him in place but kill him I cannot. The creature wraps his arms and legs around my body and digs deep with his nails and pulls like lovers do. I spit in agony so I do the only thing I can do, I plant my teeth well into the side of the moles face and chew until I am released. I am free from the moles grasps so I army crawl to my rifle all the while knowing he is hot on my tail. My fingers curl around the barrel and I pull it close to me a great deal of comfort engulfs me. I pull the rod back and release and it slams back into place lock and load baby, I aim up and proceed. The bullets find their mark, the shoulder the chest and finally the head, the mole-man drops and gurgles in his own spit and blood. The hideous figure lies dead; I can taste his blood on my lips a taste of victory.

(6)

I am safe for now alone in my chamber, was he the only one or are there an army of them burrowed beneath the ground, a question I hardly wanted an answer to. I inspect my knees amateur stitching job but really impressive for someone with no eyes, they bleed bad and pulse with pain, my skin is deeply burned and my back bleeds heavy rivers, I am in rough shape but I will persevere, the American way I will never back down nor will I lose hope. I sling my rifle across my back and dig my nails into the dirt and crawl towards the partially open door and peek into the hallway. Long corridors with many doors, most likely more holding cells and that must mean more executioners. I intend to not find out the secrets of the underworld unless they come to me so I move quickly with haste, dirt under my nails with a snail trail of blood behind me. I keep low as I sprawl down the hallway; these halls have an eerie dead silence, much pain has been produced here. A small snake wiggles from underneath one of the cell doors, drunk slithering he makes his way in my direction. The snake strikes me odd it is as if he is first learning to crawl, awkwardly and sideways he reaches me. What I saw would have struck my blood cold if I hadn’t earlier been nearly tortured by a Mole-man. Snake body with a tiny American head on its shoulders, he looked at me tiny little eyes with a voice so small.

"Your new here, I used to be like you legs and all but these wonderful people gave me a second chance, a new life I suggest you seek their guidance its only painful at first but you start to get used to it."

Speechless I stare blankly at the man trying to muster out some sort of response but before the words make it out my mouth the shadows begin to dance on the walls.

(7)

I offer no response to the snake, the shadows grow taller and muffled words and grunts can be heard down the hallway. I turn tail and crawl as fast as I can in the other direction, stumps kicking in the dust and gun swaying on my back. I crawl until I can crawl no more; I ready myself for the last stand. I flip on my back with rifle on my stomach and aim down the hall preparing myself for what monstrosities may appear, a Bird-boy or perhaps a Worm-girl only time will tell. I wait rifle steady, sweat forming and running down my cheeks and they appear. A herd of half human half animal stampede towards me heads down ramming speed. I pull the trigger knocking down a monkey boy with human hands and feet now lay dead, my conscience is free knowing I am doing god’s work. I drop two more during the bull rush but it’s all in vain, a gorilla girl is on top of me pulling at my head while two mice children feast on my stitches before long I am overwhelmed and give into my fate.

(8)

"Hi there and good morning thank you for tuning in for news 11:30. Our top story tonight a double homicide occurred on the downtown east side details will be revealed after a more mysterious story, a Japanese red-crowned crane has mysteriously appeared on a women’s doorstep pecking vigilantly against the doorbell, the bird has been detained and will be returned back the jungles off of Iwo Jima thank you and back to our top story"