[Mercy] Failure To Communicate

[John Doe]

A few hours had passed since the explosion rocked the structure of the building. The command center was ablaze with confusion and contempt against their saboteur. Men were shouting over the intercom, while others scanned the security monitors. They didn't know who this guy was, what he wanted, or even why he was there. But they all knew one thing for sure; they wanted him dead.

General Fightmaster sauntered through the sliding metal doorway. His face was constantly contorted with a strange half-grin, half-snarl. The commander reached his post in the heart of the clusterfuck of confusion and chaos. "Status report, boys. Where is our rat hiding?"

A spectacled militiaman sprang out of his chair and saluted his commander with a "Sir!" He quickly struck his middle finger at his glasses before placing his arms at his sides. "We, uh, don't know sir." He paused a moment, expecting an outburst from his superior. The general stared wordlessly at the man, prompting the soldier to continue his report. "He doesn't show up on camera, and our patrols have not caught sight of him. He seems to be laying low after causing that explosion, sir!"

"Can't find him? Heh!" Fightmaster pulled out three cigars from his side pocket. He twisted the tops of the cigars off, then plugged the ends of the tobacco rolls together. He stuffed the long, mega cigar into his mouth, lit the tip, and puffed out a tornado of smoke that literally made the spectacled soldier wheeze and pass out. Ignoring his subordinate, he turned around towards his idle men, standing behind him. "Alright boys, let's smoke him out!"

***

Years of footsteps had laid out a beaten dirt road. The road lead deep into a bright forest. Oak trees hung their branches high along the pathway. The trees seemed to have arched themselves in a way that welcomed those who entered. Morning dew glistened on the grass, which hoped around the trees. Sunlight hung high above the woodland area. The white clouds jumped in front of the sun to shade the forest for only a moment. Underneath the protection of the branches, light barely penetrated the thick, leafy stocks of the trees. The shaded dirt pathway lead on through the forest. It dug deep into the woods until it reached the center.

Inside the hub of the forest was a circular patch of flat grass. A single, young sapling was mantled in the middle of the open patch of grass. It only stood a few feet above the green grass around it, but it was adorned with thin limbs that extended out from its sides like a pair of arms. The uppermost part of the sapling had a bulbous shaped stem, the very top of the plant covered with leaves that bejeweled the crown and drizzled down the back like a head of hair. The sapling itself was like a small child, standing, arms spread, welcoming visitors. A gentle wind blew by, swinging the arms of the sapling around. Almost like it was dancing.

The sun returned from its rest in the azure sky above. Wind breezed along the brush, and the trees waltzed around the forest. The leaves had changed from their usual green shade and had been painted into beautiful magenta, orange, and amber foliage. Flowers awakened from their slumber and rose from the ground, decorating the grassy field with roses and lilies and tulips and chrysanthemums. The forest was alive.

Doe was high as fuck.

Things, and Doe, were spinning all around the room. He had snuck into the bunkers after causing several dozen deaths and an explosion or two. As he figured, some members of the militia had a "stash." It was Doe's civil duty to relinquish this "stash" from the militia for the greater good, of himself. At first, all he wanted was a few dozen cigarettes and maybe a beer or two. Then he found something better.

"OH MY GOD THE WALLS ARE MELTING!"

He found a nice fat roll of weed stuffed in the corner of the "stash." Right next to that was innocent strip of paper inside a plastic bag. Like any sensible citizen, he popped this piece of paper into his mouth. He then picked up the marijuana roll up and, with a snap of his fingers, lit the stick and puffed away. The result was...

"THE WALLS ARE CHOCOLATE BARS, YAAAAAAAAAA~!"

Doe leapt up and reached out for the walls. His mouth hung open with a stupid smile, drool escaping from his unfastened jaws. He slammed his face against the dark, creamy wall of chocolate delish. "Words" seemed to spew out of him. Beautiful words that captured this thoughts and feelings perfectly.

"EAYMEGOONAHEAUTYAOAP!"

The noise from the building brought the attention of a pair of nearby soldiers. They burst into the room to see Doe lying on his back on the ground, arms stretched towards the sky of marshmallow clouds. Doe rolled his head around the floor, making strange gibberish and his palms opened and closed in the air.

"Why are the giraffes so far away!?"

The soldiers slowly cocked their heads towards each other before shrugging. They walked over and lifted Doe's body by his limbs, and slowly made their way out of the room. "Whoever this guy is, Fightmaster wants to see him."