The Price of War

In the jungles of a far off land, the smell of blood filled the skies. John a lonely private was stationed at a medical tent just outside of the battlefield. The enemy, losing the battle, resorted to suicidal tactics. Using improvised fire bombs soldiers began charging into the enemy lines, destroying themselves and others. As John walked around the tents the smell of the burnt bodies made him lightheaded. He sat down and looked up at the skies as the blood red sun rested below the horizon. Hours later John awoke to the gut wrenching sounds of a woman screaming. He immediately jumped up realizing he never checked in at his post. Walking back with his M16 resting against his torso, John began to think about the screaming. He found it odd as he has yet to see a female nurse or officer.

Making it back to his post, his buddy Fredrick, was sitting back smoking a cigar. John greeted him and apologized for being so late. Fredrick turned to him and told him not to worry in a monotone voice. At this point the hair on the back of John’s neck stood up. The air smelled clean and crisp. Also Fredrick, who normally greets him with a joke, seemed unusually calm. John walked up to pat Fredrick on the shoulder and ask him about his day, but the moment he touched him, his body fell over, burned to a crisp. Blood covered the entire tent and when John stared down at his hands a dark red coating covered his fingers.

            Panicking, John ran into the main tent to only find the same situation. Bodies, bloodied and rotting scattered the place. Just then screaming broke through the dead silence that existed before. Coming from outside, John grabbed his assault rifle and stepped out of the tent slowly. Nervous, John began to sweet and his arms began to shake. Slowly making his way towards the screams, he could see a figure in the forests. As he slowly approaching, his legs began to cramp. The pain worsened but John persisted, desiring to see if anyone was left alive. Only a few yards away from the figure John collapsed. Looking down, his legs appeared as mangled sausages. The muscle that was once inside his leg was dangling like a ribbon, waiting to be tied around a present. Unable to hold it in, John let out a blood curdling scream as the figure began to approach John. Getting closer and closer, John could see the reflection of the moon’s light off of what appeared to be the barrel of an M16. Calling out for help the figure rushed closer until it collapsed at which point John could see the blood stained hands of a person who looked like a mirror image of him.

            All of the sudden a bright light appeared in front of John and he woke up realizing it was all just a dream. Relieved John went to stand up, but couldn't.  No matter how much strength he exerted, his legs didn’t want to move. Looking down, dangling tissue of what once were healthy legs were all that existed. Exhausted and weary, John had no more energy to scream but as he scanned his surrounding he saw the flag of the enemy on the wall of what appeared to a cell. Trapped John unable to figure out what happened went to scream but instead passed out, unaware that he was now in a prison used to torture soldiers.