"Farrell.", He sternly spoke while looking to his left.
"Yeah?", His tired voice answered.
His tone shifted to suit the words, "Be calm, man. We got this, okay?"
Farrell nodded, "I know, I know. I just, uh..."
He shushed him, "Nuh uh uh, I don't wanna hear any of that. Shut up and let's get to work.", smiled, and patted his back before rubbing off some blood from his stubble.
"Look, man, we are soldier rank. They will not be intimidated. We will be fine."
"Alright, Rog."
They stepped out of the truck, ever so slowly, with their hands in the air.
Roger gestured his hand at Farrell to keep quiet, leaving him confused as they slowly approached the armed people, more than ready to put their spears and blades to use.
"Good morrow!", Roger yelled, as Farrell was left dumbfounded since they agreed he'd be the one in charge of talking.
Roger put his arms halfway down, and suddenly a spear's blade came near his throat from one of their troops.
"Ah, come on.", He rolled his eyes and lifted his arms back up. "You know, as supernatural beings that we are, it is slightly illogical to be so paranoid all the time like this.", He chuckled, "Don't you agree, sir?", He yelled as his head pointed to the large tent they were guarding.
Their general walked out, spear in hand, and with menacing steps he approached Roger, towering two feet above his head.
"What do you want?", His voice silenced all whispers around.
"Wow, aren't you guys cold?", His eyes pointed at the clothing of their culture, it revealed the shoulders and feet of all.
"We are not meant to cover our shoulders from our God. And our feet are not meant to be separated from mother earth. Not that you faithless fools would know anything about that."
"Ooo, we got ourselves a sharp tongue here."
"What do you want? I will not ask again.", He stomps the bottom of his spear to the ground.
"What you did with Murphy.", His sudden shift in tone frightened Farrell behind him, only able to watch things unfold as even the little control he had, he could see... slipping away.
"You have come to avenge him."
"Oh, no no no! Just tell this kid to put her weapon down, and we can talk. Like faithful creatures."
He shoots one glance at the troop, and she instantly pulls back her spear.
They finally put their arms down. "Much better.", He smiles.
Roger begins to walk towards the tent as eight more spears are instantly held against his throat, along with the General pushing him back a few feet.
"You have an impressive home. Won't you welcome me inside?"
"Then you are delusional."
"Alright then, let's just talk here.", He grabs a large cut log on the right, pretends he isn't strong enough to lift it, and lets Farrell help him.
They both sit as the General gets his own seat brought to him.
Roger then takes out a flask, and takes a few sips. "I know you people don't drink during a grieving stage, otherwise I woulda brought-"
"I think you mean stolen.", He interrupts.
He laughs, "You're already catching on. I guess a general such as you, it's no surprise you're perceptive."
YOU ARE READING
Sterling's Blood
Science Fiction-| "Who made you so cruel, Wallace?", he asked, holding his spilled-out guts. "The bastards that let you live all these years.", I said before I dug my claws into his chest and ripped him apart, as slow as I possibly could so he felt every bit of i...
