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Rated: ASR · Fiction · Entertainment · #1791906
A fictional myth that alludeds to things that actually happend in our history
{{{size:2.5}size:3}size:4.5}In a different time, in a different age, in a different world, there was a great war of men. A war that engulfed the whole world in flame. Before it the many powers had flourished, rich in  both currency and culture...and power. They became fearful and jealous of each other. Making secret alliances with each other. Then with the rise of a once poor kingdom, armed with an ideology of superiority, and dreams of imperial power, The need for a strong military arm grew. Led by an insane and sadistic idealist, backed by its allies almost half the world in number, and armed with man, machine, and horse the dogs of war across the land. attacking there nearest neighbors, burning as they went. All thous under attack called out for help against the invaders, reminding there allies of the alliances and pacts and promises they made. And by doing so, sparked the whole world into conflict. Cities crumbled, forests, jungles, plains all burned. The mountains rang with gunfire. The skies were black with smoke. Whatever peace was before this was gone. In an ancient jungle kingdom, its armies dared to stand against the evil kingdom. Its warriors brave and skilled, its tanks strong and powerful. But they were still no match for the evil kingdom's great war machine. Still they fought, they fought hard and brave. They most skilled warriors were of shadow. In the shadow they would hide, waiting. Attacking the invaders on all sides, ambushing them, then disappaer into the jungle. Sabotage the enemy machines and supplies. They would attack in the dead of night while the invaders slept. They were the most feared of all the jungles warriors, some even thought they were not men, but spirits, spirits of the jungle that could swallow men whole. All you would ever see was the outline of there camouflaged bodies, the out line of there faces. by it was to late.Before long you would be counted among the dead. All you saw was there masks...
That was all that was scribbled on the old ratted and matted piece of tea-colored parchment paper he handed me. Its tongue similar to our own but known only to a few including me. The leader of the our archaeological expedition, my professor, snatched the parchment from my hands just as i was finishing. Taking great care with tea-colored paper, he slowly rolls up the scroll and slides it back into his inner jacket pocket. Then he turned back to the dig. Pointing out to me the multicolored pattern on the the mask. Specifically designed to break up the silhouette of the soldier's face. He was amazed at how well then now faded colors matched those of the jungle. I stopped listening to him and just watched as he brushed the dirt and dust away from the surface of the mask. Wondering what it must have been like..., watching, waiting, hidden in the jungle.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1791906-Hidden-in-the-Jungle