The plane cut it’s way through the clouds in complete silence. The clouds were things, churches and rabbits, white bananas and fluffy spikes. But the plane flew through them, leaving them broken and mutilated.

The sand was grainy and yellow, it danced in the wind, it entered my lungs, it flowed through my veins. I was the sand. But the sand was not me. I was not worthy. I was rejected. My feet felt heavy. The sand held them down. My backpack was light. It started to float away, I filled it with sand until it cut into my shoulders, I filled it with sand until it compressed my spine. The sun glowed blond; it hung solitary and omnipotent upon the pale ocean sky. Mountains of sand sprouted from the earth, they moved and breathed, as quickly as they rose they were sucked back in, leaving nothing but a ring of molten glass. 

I wasn’t alone there were five other people with me, dressed as I was in loose desert camouflage, holding as I was a jet black rifle that burned like jealousy in the sun. Forward, always moving forward. It didn’t matter to what – because it didn’t matter why, it simply had to be done. Our sergeant told us to move and we listened. He was big, bigger, biggest. Bulging in the uniform that hung like loose snake skin from my body. His word was law, his word was safety, his word was done.

My girlfriend was next to me, shapely body shapeless behind a baggy uniform, her golden hair reflected the neon sun, and her green eyes shone florescent. She smiled, her plump full lips covered in the lipstick she never wears revealed teeth that sparkled white wash. When she smiled her entire face smiled, her freckles curved into tiny grins, her eyes became crescent moons that hung emerald and beautiful on a flesh colored sky. I felt comforted that she was there with me, comforted that I wasn’t alone.

We waded through the ocean of sand. The heat rose like static. The wind was hot.

Through the static there was movement, a dark splotch formed in the distance. The black sergeant told us to stop and lie down, so we did. The sand felt like coals, it moved underneath us. The splotch got closer, through the haze a gleaming pickup truck roared. Inside the truck three men stood, their white garments reflected the light. They had guns. The black sergeant told them to stop, but they would not, instead they began to shoot. The sand around us vibrated, like rain hitting water it rose in columns and fell smoking. It smelled like sulfur. The black sergeant told us to shoot back. I was scared, I was frozen, I was a coward. A scream echoed above bullets and the engines and the wind. A nameless women soldier sat with her chest open, ragged shards of ribs hung from marrow, her heart beat until she was devoured by the sand. 

The truck disappeared. The black sergeant told us to keep moving, so we did.

The house was made of marble and sandstone. White and tan it towered over everything. Great cracks covered the outside, but yet it stood strong and ominous. The black sergeant said we needed to go inside, so we did. The first room, was a kitchen the linoleum tiles were recently cleaned, they smelled like lemons. Our boots left scuff marks upon the floor, great black imperfections upon the polished surface.

A deer with three arrows in its side skidded across the floor; it’s hooves unable to gain traction. The black sergeant told my girlfriend and I to check the upstairs, so we did. There were two ornate maple doors on the landing. We took the one on the right. The room was dark, except for a simple pine table that sat in the middle, it glowed bright red, it was bleeding, great drips of florescent blood rolled down it’s legs pooling on the floor. When we opened the door the blood began to roll down faster until the entire room was covered in thick red putrid light. The smell was horrible, like rotting flesh. We closed the door.

The second oak door was locked. I kicked it. It exploded into sand. Inside there was a family, one woman, two children and a bearded man. I told them to get on the ground, so they did. My girlfriend started to comfort the children who were crying. I turned to help her. There was a click behind us, I turned to see the bearded man, he wore a ragged suit, tight to his body though it was three sizes too big, his eyes were black and his face was worn. In his knotted hand he held a pistol, the bullets glowed black through the cylinder. Without a word he pulled the trigger. Rage filled me as I watched the bullet slam into my girlfriend. The bullet had hit her leg dark blood began to web throughout her pants. She said she was ok. I was still angry. A darkness that was deep inside clawed its way out, an evil that had long lain dormant awoke.

I grabbed the man’s wrist, and broke it, it snapped like a twig. Bones shot through the skin like spikes. The man screamed. I ignored him. The woman screamed. I ignored her. The children screamed. I ignored them. I grabbed the pistol from his limp hand, I made him look at me. His eyes were yellow, they were scared, they made me sick. Holding the gun in my hand I punched the man in the eye with the barrel. I watched as his eyeball exploded, a white fluid that covered my hand. The man screamed. I ignored him. The woman screamed. I ignored her. The children screamed. I ignored them. I punched him again, in the same place. This time blood flowed unto my hand. It was thick and red. I punched him again I felt his skull crack. I punched him again. I saw is skull crack. I punched him again. He fell limp. I shook him awake. I made him look at me. His eye was yellow, it was scared, it made me sick. I pistol-whipped him, three teeth fell out like Chiclets. I stepped on them. They turned to dust. I looked over at my girlfriend, she smiled at me, but the blood continued to flow. I looked at the man; I opened his mouth and put the gun in. I pulled the trigger five times. The room was quiet, a fine red mist hung like an ornate Broadway theater curtain. The woman screamed. I ignored her. The children screamed. I ignored them. The man did not scream. 

My girlfriend was breathing; her chest was rising up and down slowly. I brushed the hair out of her face, her eyes rolled underneath closed lids. I smiled as I watched her nose wrinkle. I kissed her soft cheeks and freckled cheeks. Her eyes opened slowly, green suns rising from flesh painted curtains. She smiled at me. “I dreamed about you.” She said.

“I dreamed about you too baby.” I said.