Raw fire, burning in his veins. That's what it feels like to be a warrior. Jacked up on napalm, like the rest, bayonet and rugged M16 slung over a sweat stained vest. Boys will be boys. Squeals of exotic birds and the ebb of the tide cant be heard over the sharp barks of gunfire and the din of shrapnel, pleas and screams. Something must be done about that. The senses must be shut off. Headphones have the answer, his own auditory sanctuary. Soon the soothing tones of Dylan fill the air, and the pain and anger and regret bleed away, softly.
Done so many evil things in the name of love,
It's a crying shame
I never did see no fire that could put out a flame.
The alien face is upturned, innocent, almost curious. But it can't mask the devil inside, oh no, he can't be fooled that easily. The hammer is pulled back with a sharp click, the tunnel of chrome swings downwards. He takes off his mirror shades, black against the sun, bleak substitutes that hide a look more sinister and souless, cold against the tropical warmth and chemical heat that burns in his blood. He wants her to know he is the power, the better, the end.
You gonna need my help, sweetheart
You can't make love all by yourself....
She takes it all in her mouth, obediantly, bites down as it is pushed further and further down her throat. Choke. Not yet, not when there's still such fun to be had. Restraint is a virtue. Hate must be channelled. The whore. Dirty kinky filthy whore. She's loving every second of it, with those innocent eyes and dark, tanned skin. Hammer strikes anvil, anvil makes the spark that explodes in the mouth, carrying the fragments of bone and brain, splattering over the rotten floorboards. But not just yet.
Are you ready, hope you're ready.
Am I ready, am I ready?
The lyrics and mantras screaming in his head, the burning butane in the blood urging him on, his own, personal song. He feels the teeth give way, wrenched from their sockets, crunching and cracking, caking the chrome in sticky fluid. Red, after all. She can't last much longer, and he can't resist, can't hold back. Such temptation, such delights he has found in this exotic land, amongst the howl of battle. Delights the others just wouldn't understand. Just a bit longer..... just.......
There. Relief. He couldn't believe how easy it was. Everything's blue in her world, fuzzy, spilling out of her head. The birds cackle and fly higher into the sky, feathered plumes glistening in the light. Trembling fingers fumble for a cigarette, a gentle comedown after too much excitement. The tragic expense of others. But it's good to indulge, once in a while, if only to keep sane. And the blood on his hands, the smoke in his lungs and the voices screaming in his head, urge him to go on.
Shadows are falling and I been here all day
It's too hot to sleep and time is running away
Feel like my soul has turned into steel
I've still got the scars that the sun didn't heal.