The Redcoat

The field

My name is Brannon Eliot Hicks. I am a former Redcoat of the British Empire, and this is my story

      I woke up in a field, my body jerking up as if my blood had been replaced with adrenaline. I got up off the grass to check my surroundings. It was a lush field full of bright green grass and surrounded by dark green trees. It looked nothing like were I was originally stationed. There was nothing else in the field. I walked forward about 10 feet and tripped over something. Even though it was a minor fall, I hit the ground hard as the gravity seemed different here. I looked back at what I tripped on. It was another redcoat laying face down on the ground, his blood red jacket swarmed with flies. I kneeled down next to his body, the stench wafting into my nose and mouth, making me gag. I grabbed his shoulder and turned him over. His skin was old and crumbled like a papyrus scroll, a hole fitting the size of a bullet was punched through his left eye, while his right eye was just a hole filled with maggots. I shot up and puked once I saw the horror that had befallen this poor man. I looked at the name tag on his jacket. It said only the word "CLAY". I took his hat and put it over his deformed face. I got up and saluted for a few seconds and then walked away to see if I could find out where I was. I walked about 10 yards away and then something hit me in the back. It was a light hit, but again, the gravity felt weird here and it nearly knocked me down. I looked down to see what had hit me. It was the dark grey British military cap that was draped over the mans head. When I twisted my neck upward to see what had caused this to happen, my skin changed to a pale white. There was the redcoat, standing with pigeon toed feet and hunched over back, twitching to even the slightest breeze. It seemed as if a bone broke with every one of his movements. My brain was conflicted on whether to run or stay and fight. Fight or flight. Suddenly, his jaw slowly started to open like the mouth of a nutcracker. As the opening of his mouth expanded, I could hear a low groan from the bottom of his throat. The sound slowly grew as his body became more and more sensitive to touch to the point where the breeze started to crumble his skin. Suddenly, the loud groan climaxed once he yelled "RUUNNN!" Suddenly, I could hear explosions in the distance as a group of shapes materialized over the horizon. I then knew what was happening. IT WAS AN ARTILLERY STRIKE! I followed the cadavers instructions and ran to the tree line. Once I reached the trees, I looked over my shoulder to look at the corpse to see nothing but a crater in his place. I continued running through the trees as the bombardment of the forest continued. A hellfire of shells and cannonballs raining down on the poor wildlife. Suddenly one of the shells landed right next to a tree and knocked it over. It fell right in front of me, lit ablaze by the incendiary ammunition. I landed right on my stomach like a lever over the burning trees. The fire burned my skin with the pain of hundreds of nails being hammered into each of my pores. I rolled onto my back to look to the sky in a hope of relief. Sure enough, a shell appeared into the space between the trees and fell towards me. I prayed to god that the shell would fall faster. 100 meters, 50 meters, 10 meters, and then............