That night was a very rough night for Jim.  Nightmare’s flooded his brain while he slept.  Thoughts of Machete Max using his infamous Machete wielding skills to cut everyone down, one by one, piece by piece.  Machete Max was laughing maniacally while he did it.  In his nightmare, the man he saw before him was no man at all, but a demon hell bent on nothing but pure chaos.  He hacked and slashed in all directions, indiscriminately.  Both men and women were screaming, blood curdling screams, but not moving to evade him in any way. Men and women were being chopped down, and dropping like rag dolls.  Their corpses lay twitching on the ground.   The whole nightmare felt entirely too real, entirely too demonic.   Jim stood there against the wall and watched helplessly while Machete Max ran amok.  It was like he was watching a movie plan out until Machete Max suddenly stopped.  His head turned slowly, twisting well beyond what any human should be capable of.  Jim felt a sense of pure terror and dream when the blood stained face of Machete Max stared into his very soul.  His smile showed nothing but pure malice.  It was almost like a slow-motion start as the rest of his body caught up to his twisted head and began walking toward Jim.  Jim could feel his entire body tense up, goosebumps became the only sensation on his body, but he couldn’t move.  Jim was frozen with fear.  Machete Max picked up his speed gradually, exponentially until he was in a full on sprint head straight at Jim.  Try as he might, Jim was still incapable of movement even though every part of him wanted to wake up.  No more than a few feet from Jim, Machete Max pulled his right arm back, machete in hand, winding up for the kill.  Machete Max’s arm came down with every bit of his might, and Jim saw the Shiny bloodstained machete an inch from his eye.

Jim woke up with a jump, he woke Sam up as well who was able to calm Him down.

“Bad dream or something?” Sam asked, still half asleep.

“We need to get them out of there.  If even half of what Machete Max did in my nightmare is something he’s capable of, we need to move as far away from here as possible.” Jim spoke, a palpable sense of dread in his voice.

“To get them out of there would take something insane, and I don’t know if we’re capable of preparing something soon enough.” Sam said, relenting.

Jim tried to go back to sleep, but that nightmare was more than enough for him to handle again.  Instead he just lay there, running over all the same bad ideas he and Sam had the night before.  The more he thought about it, the more of a headache it gave him.  He hadn’t even realized he fell back asleep again.

Jim found himself, this time, in a wide open field.  There were flowers of all kinds surrounding him.   The sun was directly overhead and very bright, only a couple of white puffy clouds were in the sky.  The scene before him was nothing short of perfection.  Jim spun around looking in various directions, trying to get a grasp of where he was.  He was completely unfamiliar with the location.  Jim began kneeling down, the aroma the flowers gave off was otherworldly.  He ran his fingers through them.

“Jim” a voice said.

Jim immediately stood up and turned to see Veronica standing there.  She was more beautiful than he remembered. She stood there, a soft smile greeting him.  She had on some kind of dress, and it was blowing gracefully in the wind.

“Veronica?!” Jim cried out, emotion washing over him, not believing his eyes.

“Yes, Jim.  I miss you.” Veronica spoke, softly, tenderly.

Jim attempted to move toward Veronica, but he was frozen in place.  He looked at her, confused.

“Why can’t I get to you?” Jim asked, an anger over the situation taking him over.

“You’re stuck.” Veronica said

Jim, being very confused, looked at her, searching for an answer.  Veronica pointed to his feet.  Jim looked down and his feet were stuck in mud.  Jim tried to move his feet, and it was as though he was cemented in concrete.  Jim pulled at his legs, but they wouldn’t budge.

“You need someone to pull you out.” Veronica said, softly.

“I need to get to you, I need to hold you, I need you!” Jim exclaimed, now panicked.

“You need help to get out of that and come to me.” Veronica said, her hand now outstretched toward him.

“What happens if I can’t get to you, what happens if I fail to get to you?” Jim asked, nearly in tears.

Veronica looked at him, and her expression which had been soft and loving, now turned to sadness.

“This.” Veronica said, defeated.

Suddenly, a ring of fire rose from around them.  One very large ring of fire blazed in all directions, the flowers on the ground began to burn, the ring of fire slowly starting to close in on them as one by one, each flower was reduced to ash.

“You have to get me, and you can’t get to me alone.” Veronica, now in a mild panic herself as the heat from the flames started to get to her.

“But, how?!” Jim, now screaming as full blown panic set in. “How do I save you?!”

“With the help that you haven’t thought of yet.” Veronica shouted, the heat from the flames beginning to overtake her as the ring of fire was almost upon them.

“What does that mean?!” Jim screamed.

From behind Veronica appeared Machete Max.  He smiled with his devilish grin, His eyes like hot coals.  Machete Max walked by Veronica like she wasn’t even there.  Jim watched helplessly as Veronica was consumed by the flames and disappeared entirely.  Machete Max wasted no time and stood right in front of Jim, a crazed look of bloodlust in his eyes.

“Hey there, Jimmy Boy!” Machete Max said, snarling through his crooked teeth.

Jim was ripped from his sleep by Sam, who was violently shaking him awake.  Jim was barely conscious.

“You’re a ridiculously heavy sleeper, Jim!” Sam spoke, some had him riled up.  “Something is happening down there! I don’t like the looks of it.”

Jim forced himself on his feet, and pulled out his scope.  He pulled his scope to his eye, and started panning over the fortress.  A scraping sound could be heard in the distance.

Jim trained his scope where the sound was coming from, and was left horrified when he saw Machete Max on the parapet.  There the man stood, casually leaning against the rail, machete in hand.  The scraping sound was that of his Machete, being drug against a stone of some kind, water dripping from the stone.  Machete Max was sharpening his blade.  This couldn’t be good.  

There was a guard behind him informing him of the time.  Machete Max turned to the guard and said something.  The guard then went and told the other guards what he was told.  All visible guards began opening doors, and all of the prisoners began to spill out and were being corralled  to the center of the fortress.

There was dead silence as the last of the prisoners were funnelled out.  Only the sound of the sharpening of the blade could be heard as all of the prisoners watched in silent horror, fearing what may be about to happen.  The sound seemed to go on, uncomfortably forever.  Then the scraping stopped.  Machete Max lifted his blade skyward, turning it over to inspect the edge.  The glint of the blade, blinding as it caught the sun.

“I gave you all twenty four hours to come forward.  Either the perpetrator comes forward, or anyone with knowledge of said suspect, to come forward.  I have received no knocks on my door, I haven’t ever heard any whispers.  This is very troubling to me.  Either you have mistakenly placed trust in each other to remain silent on this matter, or you have mistakenly underestimated me and my capabilities.  Perhaps it’s a combination of both, but I digress.  I still have not heard the knocking on my door to hear ‘confession’ from any of you.  This makes me displeased, when I get displeased, actions are taken that I promise you, none of you will like.” Machete Max spoke, almost convincingly reasonable.  He looked out at the crowd, scanning from left to right.  “I will give you all one final chance to come forward.  I will give you one final chance to clear this matter up and put it behind us.”

No one among the prisoners budged.  They were all frozen with fear.  Machete Max who was leaning on the rail picked himself back up, and looked at his blade.

“Freshly sharpened.” He said, smiling.  “You just can’t beat a blade that’s been freshly sharpened.  There’s a strange sense of beauty in it.  Don’t you agree?” Max said, looking out amongst the prisoners and smiling. “There’s something about the way a freshly sharpened blade slices through things as though they are made of butter.  An evening meal, a branch off of a tree for a fire, or the flesh of an animal to be skinned and prepared for that night’s dinner.  So sharp!”  

Machete Max turned his attention back to the prisoners.

“I’ll ask just one more time.” Machete max stared into the crowd with an icy look.  “Is anyone willing to come forward, or am I to punish every single person in this encampment until someone is willing to?”