Original Stories Fan Fiction / Horror Fan Fiction ❯ Thousand Death River ❯ Chapter 1: January 13, 1987 ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

The rain fell in buckets upon the dense Brazilian jungle, harsh lightning cut through the silent downpour like gunshots. Below this timbre of heavenly violence lay the river, the Amazon; a river just as beautiful and violent as the raging storm above it, a river of death that could kill you in thousands of ways. Also in this glorious symphony of violence another tragedy was playing itself out.

“No sign yet sir, we’re still looking.” A man clad in military greens and carrying an M-16 assault rifle talked into his hand radio.

“I want it found, do you understand me soldier!?” A man’s voice blared in through a wave of static.

“I understand sir, we’re trying. But this rain isn’t helping at all.” The soldier looked at his squad, “Don’t worry sir, we’ll get it back, Bravo out.”

Above them It sat and watched, stalking Its hunters. There were five men after It, three with assault rifles, one with a shotgun, and one with a rifle. It sat on a high branch looking down upon its prey. It watched as they split up weapons ready, it moved. Strange muscular limbs swung it silently through the thick tree canopy; large sharp talons gripped on to the wood and held it steady. It stopped on a branch directly above one of its pursuers. The young man had stopped to drink from his canteen.

The soldier set his shotgun down and readjusted his helmet; he was wet, miserable, and frightened. The excitement from the events of the morning had worn off after twelve hours in the wet and miserable jungle. His uniform was sticking to his body, he was covered in bug bites, and his boots had filled was water. He thought he’d heard something over this way, so he’d volunteered to go west, hoping to find something to kill for making him suffer so much. He’d had no such luck. There was a loud thunder clap and a flash of bright light. Then the soldier’s head was gone, he stood in place with blood pouring out of his neck.

It looked at its prize; the man’s helmet with his head inside. It felt happy as the man fell down, and that there were four more men for it to eat. It took the head out of the helmet and bit down on his face as another flash of lightning illuminated the brutal scene. Its jaws crushed the head and the gooey fragments slid down its throat. Then it heard the high pitched roar of an assault rifle as the wood and leaves around it exploded from the attack.

“Die! HOLY FUCK!! CONTACT! OH SHIT! CONTACT!!” A soldier shouted over the roar of his assault rifle. The man with the radio shouted into it as the others joined in with their weapons.

“Contact! CONTACT!! I repeat, contact! We’ve found curious George; we’ve lost one man, Bravo out! SHIT!! FIRE!! OH NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!!” The rest of the transmission was a blast of static, gunfire and the terrified screams of the men. Then the radio fell silent.

That was the last contact with the five men of Bravo team. They vanished forever, another unknown tragedy of the thousand death river. There was never a search party nor a clear answer to the families of the five men as to what had happened to them. The US government never made an official statement as to what happened to thirty of their soldiers that day in the Amazon rainforest. And for over twenty years the beast that had hunted their soldiers hunted and killed many more. Few bodies were ever found nor was the beast ever photographed.

Also on this day a baby girl was born in a small village just outside of Rio, a German child with blonde hair and green and brown eyes.

A man dies, a new life begins. The wheel turns.