Prologue : 2, The Blood

"Rama, halo..Rama..?"

"Yes?" He called to his communicator. "what is it sir?"

"It's time.. execute order Freedom-Democracy..."

He hesitated for a while.. then something clicked in him. For the greater good, this was for the greater good, this was for the sake of The Cause. His Freedom and Democracy...

"Yes Sir.."

Rama's hands shook as he loaded the rifle. It was Pindad SS1 the standard assault rifle of the Indonesian armed forces. It was parachuted by the armed force minutes after the order was sent. The gun that'll kill the insurgency for good. He sighted at the sight of his gun and continue loading it.

He checked the magazine, then the chamber of the gun. Making sure it was loaded with live rounds. He took a deep breath and he noticed that the air around him getting very still. The calm before the storm, they say, and he knew it very well and a smile grinned at his face. Soon air was thick with the scent of gunpowder and fear..

He stepped outside into the dark, misty night. Rama trudged through the thick mud of the ground, his bare feet sinking deep into the muck. He hadn't been able to wear his boots for nearly years to integrate himself in the tribe. He walked slowly towards the gathering of tribesmen. His heart pounding in his chest.

as he continued walking, he could hear the sound of drums and chanting in the distance. He followed the sound, and soon came upon a large gathering of people. they were dancing and singing, their movements flowing to the rhyme. The colors of their clothing and headresses blended together in the mesmerizing display of fire and artistry.

The sounds of rhyme soon will be envelope with noise of gunshot, deafening the whole center. A cacophony of screams and blood dripping will cover the village. Rama raised the rifle and aimed down the sight, his finger hovering over the trigger.

People were running in all directions, trying to escape his sight, the warriors draw their bows and axe while their wives ran covering their children. Like a predator stalking his prey, he felt empower, as a surge of power rush throughout his body.

He took aim and there it was a Drio looking back at him. His headresses made of bird feathers, in shades of deep blue and green was dyed in red. His eyes had been hollowed, not by the bullet, but by his betrayal. As his last doubt died with him, he began to moved on his next target.

The tribesman tries to escape the madness unfolding before their very eyes. But unfortunately, Rama felt a rush after he had his target. He fired again and again, the gun kicking back in his hands. feeling nothing but exhilarating thought. he was into the moment. His killer instinct had taken over him.

The chaos continued around him, screams and cries of the wounded and the dying filling his ears. Some shouting his name, begging him to stop, while others cursing him before their last words.

He knew had to finish the job, He went to every huts. one by one he barged into the huts. then, shooting anything that moves. The once tall and proud huts, were no longer. The tribesman huddled together, in fear latched onto one and another as they watched Rama approach, his weapon aimed at them.

Shooting through the huts were like shooting through a piece of paper. it tears the air, shattering the walls of the huts. one by one, the huts were pierced by rounds of live ammunition. <owing the tribesman down. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, and the sound of gunfire echoed through the land.

As the killing continued, the once-beautiful and lively village were reduced to a ghost town, the ground littered with the bodies of the dead. a stark contrast to the once peaceful village that had stood there hours ago.

He stood once again in front of his friend, The last living member of the tribesman, Drio. He was bleeding, but had not yet died. Rama's bullet had pierce his neck and he was choking on his own blood.

Rama took out his revolver, and aimed at his only friend. He took one last shot and smiled as he watched another victim fall. His hands were slick with sweat and blood, the gun heavy in his arms. He knew he needed to leave this place before the others huntsman arrived from their hunt. Rama turned and left, disappearing into the night, leaving behind a trail of blood.

He felt, a sense of satisfaction as his mission was a success..