Goblin
Posts: 5547
Joined: 3/29/2002 From: Erie,Pa. USA Status: offline
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Saga Senichi continued to try and stand up, but failed again and again. His breath wheezed in and out, causing blood to bubble out of the wounds in his torso. He could not even remember how the wounds had got there. Bayonet? Machinegun? Shrapnel? It seemed immensely important to him to know for some reason. He realized it was irrelevant now, but that did not change the fact that he yearned for that last bit of knowledge. Around him, scattered through the jungle undergrowth and the boulders of The Junkyard, lay the bodies of his comrades. Here and there lay an enemy soldier also, for this most recent charge had made it into their ranks. It had been bayonets, swords, and rifle butts near the end. The pain was immeasurable, but he refused to cry out, refused to show it. He would die like the Samurai of old, showing his bravery and keeping his honor. He heard voices, and the occasional shot, move closer. Marines. He would not be taken prisoner and tortured like some dog! He struggled to find a grenade on his gear, but remembered killing the American machinegun crew with his last one during the charge. The voices were getting closer now. He looked around desperately, and saw his Type 99 rifle laying nearby. With the last of his fading strength, he crawled the few feet to the weapon, and worked the bolt. Empty. The Marines were nearly on him now. He unclipped the bayonet and lay back against a tree, gasping with the effort. He put the bloodied blade of the bayonet against his throat as the first Marine came out of the swirling smoke, his Tommygun at the ready. With a last monumental effort, he summoned everything he had and pushed the blade hard. Goblin
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