Joseph didn’t know where he was. His marine outfit stuck to him from the mud that he had to sleep in last night. The cool air glided over his chiseled face. His small stubble picked up drops of moisture in the air at each exhale. Every step that he took felt heavy, like he was on a different planet, that gravity added a few extra pounds on his body.
He still had his rifle slung over his shoulder. Under his shirt, his skin had a rug burn that ached every time the gun swung from side to side. His greyish blue eyes were wide open scanning the area for any movement. His dark boots get caught up in the fertile swamp below him, trying to make him fall flat on his face on the moist ground.
Up ahead, he saw red flames, something that he was used to seeing. He began to curse under his breath, reaching for his rifle that was wearing a hole in his shirt. The gun’s butt rested on his right shoulder, waiting to be fired. Joseph breathed harder, the moisture catching his breath letting steam rise from his nostrils and mouth whenever he let the heavy air out of him.
The smoke was noticeable by the time that he was beginning to pick out each of the single flames that burst from the area not too far in front of him. It burned his lungs and throat, worse than any cigarette could do to him. He raised his gun higher and began to walk slower, spinning slowly in circles to make sure he had the entire area cleared.
Being alone like this wasn’t just like one of the reconnaissance missions that he would have run. He felt uncomfortable; the only color in his face was from the flames that were bright enough to be seen from a few hundred yards away. He heard a few footsteps coming from an unknown direction.
He suddenly became cold. His skin felt like it was boiling to the touch but frozen on the inside. He rolled his sleeves down, but they did nothing to help him. He began to yell, his voice rough and rigid. The moisture muffled his voice, like he was choking on an unknown substance. He noticed that he could not breathe anymore and fell into the shallow pond that he was walking on.
He spun around to see a creature that he had never seen nor heard of. He brought one of his fists up and landed a punch right in the aliens face. His hands were already bloodied from his last night’s run that he had to endure. They were muddy and now slimy with a grey liquid that stuck to him. He brought his rifle right to the alien’s forehead, and pulled the trigger immediately. The head of the fiend exploded with more of the same liquid. Making his already uneasy stomach churn till he vomited.
Joseph tried to walk again but could not lift his legs. He became dizzy and fell over. Becoming cold, unable to breathe, unable to think until he finally passed out, waking up back where he was sleeping, in the mud in the Guadalcanal.
