Buried

The orcs filled his grave with sand, he would yell for help if he could, but they had filled him with sand. He felt it coming over his shoulder now, the panic started to hit him. The goblin looked quite hungry. They didnt look to be of the Kor'Kron or the rebellion. They just wore masks. Likely bandits, the Goblin seemed to be the leader of the bunch. Atleast he was the one to come with commands.His fresh cuts now filled with sand hurt were hurting as if salt had been set in them. He heard a diabolical laugh. His side hurt, he turned around just to face a white tentwall. It was all just a dream, the sweat was pouring down from his forehead. He remembered it too well. He didnt want to be there but he was. The Barrens wasnt a kind land to be in.


He got out of the tent and looked at the sky outside was still dark, and the sound of animals could be heard fom a distance. The wind was cold and the camp seemed almost lifeless except for the few guards that patrolled the tents. He took a deep breath and fell asleep again just to wake up of the same dream. He thought back. Back to the moment they just came from the sky and grabbed him, right infront of his friends and allies. They had poisoned him with several mixed extractions of animal poison and herbs. Nothing worked so they buried him in sand. For two hours he limited his breath, hoping something would save him. Two hours of agony and terror beyond belief. He'd be dead already had he panicked there. He remembered the happiness he felt when he heard the radio and Ricks voice. He couldnt reply, not then. His mouth was full of sand. He couldnt remember if he had ever been so happy before. What little was left of his wounds still reminded him of everything.

He turned around, both his sides were just as uncomfortable to sleep on. "Death". he had laughed in his face so many times it wasnt even funny anymore, how many more hours would he have to go sleepless. None of his other injuries had caused him sleepless nights. Even when he took ten arrows in the back he didnt seem to care. This post trauma was infact a new thing for him. He turned again to see a pale face resting beside him. He touched it. It seemed real, could it be? Blue glowing eyes opened before it dissapeared in thin air. "I must sleep now", He said to himself knowing it wouldnt help. The morning would come soon and he would be expected to wake up and be ready for a new day to come.

His eyes slowly closed and he was in dreamland again. A different dream this time. He fell towards the ground in a speed only gods could overcome. Right before he hit the ground a dark shadow caught him and made him bathe in it's presence before it slowly started to consume him, but he didnt seem to care. A light came to try and fend it off but to no avail. The shadow would only become stronger the more the light faught it, for every hit it recieved and any damage it took would only cause it regenerationprocess to be faster. Until Stig was consumed. He woke up again, this time outside the tent looking down the cliff. It was morning and the camp was well on it's way on waking up. He muttered "I'll give those bastards what they deserve." Before heading back to breakfast.

(It is my first short story in a while and also my first one to appear on the forums, hope you enjoyed it. Might come with more as time passes.)