Nyctohylophobia

The jungle was calm. Its bird singing, its plants growing, its night coming. The mottled trees of green were at still with nothing moving upon their leaves. The fastidiousness remained.
The twigs snapped, and the leaves were crunched beneath the boots of the Americans. The earth rose from the ground, and clung to their boots as though even the soil wanted out. The tired and sallow soldiers were looking around lazily in the laurel for any sings of the 'cong. A good day in Vietnam was almost over.
The radiant sun didn't know the horrors of the forest it shined upon. Its body was fading behind the hills of the Dak-Lak making the sky a beautiful orange-yellow.
"I don't know why you traded your c-rations for that thing,” said Cory while looking at the grotesque sack in my hand.
"That may be the worst thing I have ever smelled,” said Scott. "It could be pestilential to the whole squad…" He began to get pale in the face.
"… and it's giving me qualms.”          
Blood began to gather at the bottom, and was leaking out through the thin cloth that held the rotting flesh in. Its drops slowly fell to the forest floor, and disappeared into the moist ground.
"The medicine women said it's a good luck charm.”
"And you believe that" said Cory while browbeating me. Cory, who was the team’s medic, continued to glare at me until he knew he could not win. His duress of getting rid of the sack failed, and they dropped the subject like the sack continued to drop its contents on the forest floor.
Our March trough the forest continued, but was slowed down even more by the camera crew accompanying us. My enmities were increased when one of the crew members had to take a leak out in the bushes. The wind was beginning to speed up, and we could no longer hear the monotony of the cameras buzzing.
We sat there waiting in the wind for him to come back. It had been at least twenty minutes, and guess who the squad chose to check on him. I was the lowest ranking; hence, it was I.
To find him, I started to walk through the jungle in the direction he left. No sign of him anywhere. I began to think the North Vietnamese must have got hold of him. My grip on my M-16 tightened. As I did this I turned my gaze from the ground, and tripped on a log, tearing a few holes in my pants. Lucky me.
My eyes darted around the dark forest trying to find him in the night, he was no where to be seen. I continued through the growing darkness, and following a light trail of shoe prints I found awhile ago. I was amazed that he went this far into the jungle alone.
All around me the trees swayed carrying their leaves back, and forth across the smoke filled sky. It was near midnight when I found him. He was sitting by a small riverbed slowly winding his camera at what appeared to be a gorilla. He heard my footprints as I approached him. The camera man kept winding the camera with one hand, and with the other he signaled for me to be silent. I became such.
As I approached the camera man, I crouched down to see from his perspective. The gorilla was a lot thinner than how the television showed it back home showed it from home. Its body was tall and standing upright on two legs. As it was looking up at the sky, the thing looked almost human.
"Stop filming the gorilla and let's get back to camp," I whispered into his ear. He looked over at me with a refusal in his eyes.
"Gorillas aren't native here," the camera man said "it's the Người Rừng."
"What?" I said softly. I unfortunately wasn't fluent in Vietnamese.
"Bigfoot." He said back, with his eyes trained on the beast. I looked up from him at the creature. Its features were human except for its face. The creatures head was that of monkeys. The black fur was near invisible in the darkness, and the only thing that showed was its blue eyes. It was watching us.
I walked back into a clearing behind us; I could no longer stand its inhuman stare. In my pocket my hand reached for my communication to base camp, and as I did this a hand crept out of a hole in my pocket holding no radio. We were stranded.
The panic in my head increased, and I made the decision to light a flare in hopes that a helicopter would be flying by even though the odds were slim, because of the weather. Matches, flares, and a little hope- the only things that could save us. As my hand carried the burning match towards the flares fuse the cameraman came out of the bushes holding in his hands his camera, and what appeared to be feces. He approached me with the glee of a mad man.
"Do know what this is?"
"What," I responded in an irked manner.
"It's the droppings of him, the Người Rừng," he said to me happily. "This combined with the film will make us millions."
"Why are you giving me a share," I said while trying not to complain. Behind the man was the river, and farther still was the things blue eyes gazing at us.
"Because you're my ride out of here; without you I would be lost but luckily you can call for help," he said without doubt. How wrong he was.
He must have been able to tell from my facial expression, because all his glee soon left his body and floated away into the foreign air. The cameraman’s gaze quickly followed my eyes down to my side where my pocket was ripped. The hole in my pants blew with the wind as though it laughed at every mistake I had made.
"I'll get it.” As I said this my body walked out into the surrounding darkness only to be worsened by the forest enveloping us. When I left I noticed the blue eyes remained keeping their focus on the lone man standing alone without a care in the world.
Cautious not to fall down again, I kept my stare upon the floor this time while following the path I had taken; a light blood trail remained upon the leaves. The rest of the trail I had to hope the best; I didn't hope hard enough. I found the beautiful device amongst the log I tripped upon earlier, but not in the condition I hoped for. The radio was dented and now it was water logged because of the rain showers that occurred during my search of our way out.
My hands reached down toward the device, and began scrapping away the mud; trying to uproot the water out of the dents, and cracks in its once smooth surface. Rain began to pick up as I marched back to the clearing. The trees around me seemed darker now, as though even they were sleeping at this time of the night.
I gripped at the forest around me trying not to slip in the maturing mud beneath myself while moving forward. The slush of earth under me was only worsened by the downpour until I came upon the clearing. I looked out where the flares would have been if they had not been silenced by the rain. The clearing was now a swamp. The cameraman was nowhere to be seen.
            I backed up into the forest incase it was a trap. If the North Vietnamese got him they would be waiting the tree lines nearby. I instantly inspected the trees around the clearing and saw nothing. Nothing except him.
            There he sat, the Người Rừng, waiting and watching. Its blue eyes stared at me from the treetops knowing not what to make of me and also knowing that I knew not what to make of it. It was my move as I approached the tree with caution, looking at the beast that I assumed caused the disappearance of the camera man. Then it spoke.
            "Do you know what this is," the humanoid imitated the camera mans voice. I continued to march toward the beast gripping my m-16. My boots dragged through the thick mud with a purpose.
            "… and you believe that?" continued the beast, now parroting my squad members. It was following us even before night. I aimed my gun up at the beasts head when I heard a crack. My entire body fell through a pile of leaves, and into a five foot pit as the braches disguising the hole fell down with me into the old foxhole. It wasn't an ordinary monkey. It could think, and it was thinking it wanted to kill me.
            His thin hairy body fell down from the tree and looked into the hole. The hole was half way filled with water, and only my upper half was visible to the creature. It slowly reached its hairy arm towards me with caution, and then in an instant the creature shot its head down, and attempted to bite at me. It’s crooked and yellowed canine teeth were two inches long as they pierced into my arm.
            I howled into the night with pain, and in a daze hit the creature across the head with my other arm. This blow stunned the primate enough that I could grab on to its fur, and pull the rest of it down into the Vietnamese mud. With the creature pulled under the water, and struggling to get back up, I dragged my self up out of the pit trap, and onto the dark muddy landscape around me. Having stunned the creature, I had a chance to live. The forest was on all sides of me except for the overflowing river.
            Angered by the blow to the head, the beast crawled out of the pit now with it’s fur encased in mud. The bloody spot where it bit me was beginning to sting from the grime resting upon the wound. While watching the beast, I quickly ran over to the river attempting to get away from the creature before it spotted me. It did anyways.
            The tall muddy biped began a jog towards where I was. It’s blue eyes continued to watch my every step, as it’s movement increased to a full run through the monsoon. The trees around me swayed with the increasing wind and the water at their roots.
            In front of me was the overflowing brook as my tattered body limped towards the muddy river. I marched into the hazard without care; I wanted to get away from him.
            The creature, now covered in mud, was no more than ten feet behind me. It’s tall body marched through the current with a rage. The shore of the river was not visible anymore through the murky water, and the blackness of the night; the only thing that was visible was it’s blue eyes.
            "Because you're my ride out of here, "the beast mirrored. He opened His mouth, and showed His teeth as though He knew He was going to get what He wanted. He wanted revenge.
            The world was becoming more blurry by the second, and in an attempt to ward it off for even one more moment, just one last moment to live, I threw the my good luck charm. The sack of meat slipped out of my hands, and barley hit the creature in the leg, but that was all I needed.
            Its leg crippled beneath it; he fell into the river, and to my luck the primate was carried away. The creature must have hit its head on the rocks of the river, and fell unconscious for it didn't try to save its self, he just floated down the current peacefully.
            The jungle was calm.