Poetic Justice-(graphic content not for the faint of heart)

 

Poetic Justice.

 

 

They thought they had
shot him in the head,
and that he was dead,
but the bullet had

only grazed him,
creating such

a bloody mess,
and a furrow in the skull,
that convinced them

he was hamburger.

Didn't matter much anyhow,
they hauled his

unconscious body
to a large pit and then
unceremoniously

tossed him in.

The bulldozer was

being repaired,
and the stench

below was horrendous
so they turned and

scurried away.

He awoke in a

massive pile of corpses,
his flesh awash in

dung beetles and worms,
crawling in his mouth,

his ears, and nose,
while the sickening

sweet smell of viscera
rotting in the hot sun,

caused him to gag and vomit.

He stood up on

the mushy bodies
breaking through

about two feet deep,
to find he was wading

in an ocean of maggots.
he kicked through

the wingless flys
and sludged his way

to the wall of the pit.

He was a U.S. Marine,

a trained survivor,
and he was pissed

beyond all measure.
With much distaste,

he began stacking the bodies
of all of those recently

deceased soldiers
who had been tossed

into the pit before him.
it took several hours

to free and stack them.

Then with a bit of

luck beyond belief
in his daunting hell

of melting flesh,
he found a 45.caliber pistol

and two magazines,
tucked into a boot holster

of a loose leg.

When the bodies

reached a sufficient height
he sat next to his

makeshift ladder,
and waited for

nightfall to come.


After dark  he silently

scaled the mound
and gripped the

edge of the pit,
belly-crawling out

onto the cool, clean sand.

His drunken tormentors

and would be assassins
were sleeping about

thirty feet away in a small shack,
no guards were posted

in this remote camp,
because the only real

threats were dead,

He re-conned the building,

crawled in and
methodically knocked

out one man
with a quick pistol

butt to his head,
and then ordered

the other three to freeze,

With no time to scramble

for weapons, they lay still
in their beds as he

cleared the room of guns.
Then he had them

get up single file

and march to the pit.
he ordered them

to strip naked,

and then he tied
their hands tightly

behind their backs.

Their eyes grew

wide with fear
at what might

be coming next.
he then shot them

in the legs,
one bullet each

in six legs,
and then drop kicked

them hard into the pit.

They splashed

face first in great pain
into the corpses below

in sheer anguish.
They moaned and

writhed there until
he half carried and

dragged the last
unconscious guard to the pit,
tied and crippled him,
and threw him on top
of the others as well.

Then he walked away,
quite sure of his

knotting ability,
and the stopping

power of a 45.
and the infection rate
of rotting corpses

in the jungle sun.

He walked away and

left them to the fate
they had chosen for him,

whistling an old tune:

"The Worms crawl in...

The Worms... crawl out,
in your eyeballas
and out your snout....


The wormscrawl in..the ...worms.....................

 

 

 

©-MFB III



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Comments 1 comment

Micky Dee profile image

Micky Dee 6 years ago

Gee- for some reason - I'm hungry!

As a Marine I had to inject some humor before my ejection. Thanks MFB!

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