The rise of the Vigilante | Teen Ink

The rise of the Vigilante

April 29, 2021
By the_writer_from_mars, Ras Al Khaimah, Other
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the_writer_from_mars, Ras Al Khaimah, Other
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Author's note:

Piece took me like 4 days to make so I hope you enjoyed it!

I, William Alexander Laurence, have proven loyal to the Royal Navy and have been hand-picked to set out a colonization mission. After numerous years of defending and attacking the North Atlantic oceans and their lands against French pests, pirates and proving the highest level of combat in training and showing the efficiency and exemplary tactics executed to be successful, I have been appointed to a superior, comfortable rank of Lieutenant. Picked from the best, seasoned colonels, titled as veterans, right under Charles the first. Today, October first, 1777, marks the first day of the attack on the Hudson River Valley, against the Indians, to expand our people’s territory and grow the chance of colonizing New Amsterdam. If this mission prevails, which I believe it will as it appears to be a very facile objective, Britain will broaden their most superior rule. These outsiders, who inhabit these lands, are equivalent to neanderthals. They are no match against the prodigious innovations and sciences of the British. We and our mates could beat any other force by tactics, raw power, and the morale of soldiers as high as their pay. It was said that these human rodents still use wood to craft their buildings and equipment, how pathetic. By the sight of the Man o’ war, one of the most powerful and formidable, heavy-duty ships, furthermore, escorted by 2 schooners, flowing in ever so intimidatingly, would leave them frightened to the bone. No one can match how fervently each member of the British is. Our tactician estimated the chance of them defending their land with force to be very low, especially taking into consideration their civilization level compared to ours. 

“Attention all troops!”, announced the Captain. 

“We have finally reached the River valley, new home to us and our future generations!”.

 At the hearing of his announcement, everyone celebrated with some having their swords or muskets up in the air and showing a sense of competitiveness. 


The environment changed its dimension from the unlimited sight of Dark blue oceans and the lighter spectrum of the sky: to a very green, luscious kingdom of trees and a complex of rivers of salty water. Every soldier aboard the Man o’ war wore a brightly contrasted red frock coat with a stunning, white vest that was buttoned by golden-colored buttons, white trousers, and a dark blue tricorn the usual uniform for the average Royal Navy soldier. Of course, everyone had identical uniforms except for the Captain. He wore a black frock coat that had numerous emblems designating his influence within the military and a tricorn with an edge engraved with gold, having also another badge to indicate his exorbitant rank. Aboard the Man o’ war, with its all fierceness in size and a wide range of artillery and a complimentary seasoned captain, emotions were all positive. Blown by the breeze that moves, are the sails of this vessel, beautifully crafted with a primary colour of white and yellow gold on every brim of each sail type. Protecting the beast and its soldiers is the main hull, professionally fused and shaped out oak wood with an ever so smooth surface. Certain areas such as the captain’s quarterback were engraved with intricate designs, again with the edge of gold and metal. At the bottom of the ship and extruding out where the canons, perfectly placed within the holes of the gunport, aiming out to any fool who dares oppose this vessel and its men. At this point, the soldiers were at the ready; and so were the cannons, mortars and puckle guns. Every arsenal was equipped, now only time will tell how will the people of that land behave.

There was finally part of the land that was extruding out, from the rest of the peninsula, the ship could finally get docked and its soldiers embark the uncharted land before them. Suddenly, came a group of these people. Around 5 of them, all men, wearing strange yet effective clothes and having weird markings on their faces. Curiosity was only visible amongst their eyes, though with a minute side of fear in them as well. Not a sign of hostility from them, but also not a decibel of speaking. Then, the silence broke, they were talking to each other, in a very unknown language. I was wondering what they were talking about, could be battle plans, maybe on how to effectively communicate with us. One of the 5 people was wearing a feathered bonnet, with a white to grey accent of colour. Suddenly, out of nowhere a shot echoed through the atmosphere, and the very same aboriginal being had his chick explode, followed by a loud thud as he landed, without any life, on the green, grassy surface below him. All of the attention focused on where the shot came from, it was from ours, our musketeer, who was right next to the Captain. I expected him to get severely punished as the mission was to only attack if the outsiders struck first. Though the unexpected happened, the captain simply patted his left shoulder, with a great smile and congratulated,  “Great shot!”. 

He continued,” Alright boys, eliminate everyone in sight, charge!”. 

Confused, everyone obeyed his order, including me, though, I didn't do it with pride. The remaining 4 of the outsiders fled before we could reach the location of their last presence and the corpse; which may be the start of a war. While marching through, the captain ordered us to get out of the firing line of the cannons, he wanted to destroy some trees to an extent so group maneuverability better and the supposed enemies’ natural advantage to be reduced. First bombardment at the ready. 

“Fire!”, ordered the captain, sonorously. 

Nothing happened. Second bombardment at the ready.

“Fire!”. 

Nothing happened, little to no damage to the trees occurred. Third bombardment, this time armed with explosive, elite cannon shots. 

”Fire”, this time with quite an edge of annoyance in the captain’s tone. 

Again, little to nothing happened. It would seem that the boundary of trees would deem impervious to our shots, so do not waste any more ammunition, he finally ordered to stop, it would appear that we would have to advance in groups while the enemy would retain their natural advantage. At this point, it would not be known if the fight between them would be easy after all, knowledge of their practice is outlandish to us. Who knew, their skill in the maneuverability of natural land and obstacles would deem far superior to ours, or what weapons they would consider using to fend us off. What is known is that the execution of this attack was not fair, I do understand the need to strike first, at least for not yet. Maybe Captain was making sure that his soldiers could go back to their families without risking the hazardous mystery the outlandish people would emit. Though again, it could be said that this act is not according to the British tier of handling events. This would have to be taken into consideration when the fight is over. Towering over us is now the country of the trees that we soldiers have willingly entered. Unluckily, we have been ordered to scout the uncharted green empire in separate groups to hold efficiency and possibly a chance of flaking; though personally, I feel a flank in dense forestry is unlikely. I was in a squad as the commanding lieutenant. I was together with 3 musketeers and 4 Midshpiman mates and a sub-lieutenant in charge of secondary control. On the mark of the Captain at the ready, his hands high in the air. As soon as it swiftly lowered the trigger was off, and off we go marching off in the marsh (soldiers from other squads and platoons went in mostly different angles of the green kingdom and were expected to meet at a more, less dense open area), our cutlasses at the ready, flintlocks and muskets fully loaded and attention on par of an eagle. We marched, and marched and marched. We stopped for a brief moment to have our sub-lieutenant climb a somewhat tall yet rich with branches and twigs he could climb on. He climbed, and climbed and climbed in silence. We were waiting for the silence to die and hear to what direction we should head. Finally, the silence ended. “Alright mates, we continue heading on Nor-”, shouted the soldier, suddenly interrupted by his silence. In a moment’s time, his body came collapsing down the tree, rotating in different angles on the impact by the branches that intercepted gravity’s line of science and phenomenon. When his body finally came in contact with the ground, a short-lived sound of bustling on leaves and footsteps hurryingly changing positions to an unintelligible location. The face of his corpse was devastating, a quick, short moment of shock yet still enriched with lifeless features. At his neck was a wooden arrow protruding; the arrow did not seem to be very complex, it did not even have a more metallic end, it was just sharpened wood. This triggered the rest of the group to be even more cautious than before as we now know that they mean business and are also capable of harm. Trying to track where the arrow was shot from where the musketeer’s investigating nearby bushes for possible peering eyes sharing information of their positioning. After not lasting that long, I and my crew continued on. I could not abandon this mission as I would get executed, if I die here, at least it was on the battlefield and with honor. But then again, what honor there was in this fight, if I die here, it was to people who were unfairly attacked first and the same people who were from a civilization less advanced trying to defend themselves. After a while of sailing, nothing really happened, everyone was just at the edge of their boots, though, we finally reached a part of the first where stood an array of roughly somewhat evenly sized logs with a spiky finish at the top of it, all towering along and ending in a curve to complete a, what looks like an attempt of forming a circle. I assume this was their encampment, luckily for us, another squad appeared at the start of the curvature at the right and the same at the left: the right squad in numbers was more advantageous, though all showed the sign of caution imprinted on their faces. They both got themselves to reach our position and we started communicating.

 “How many you lost?” I asked, at the same time rendering a plan.

 “Two Sir.”, replied one of the sergeants. 

“None Sir”, replied the other.

 “My squad lost one sub-lieutenant”.

 “Alright, I know what to do, let’s join together to form an 18 man platoon”. 

We then waited for some more people to come up, keeping as quiet as possible and limited movement. Out of the blue, we heard discussions shouted out harshly in a foreign language beyond the barrier. It sounded like 2 different men and one pretty elderly woman as her voice was heavy on the vibrations of her vocal cords. Maybe they were plotting something and started arguing. 


Worried waiting went on for a while, but at last around the other side of the circle of wooden barriers came a soldier that did not notice we were there. He was shortly followed by our captain. They reached us and we had shared information. They were on the opposite side of this barrier, waiting for us as well, a solid amount of time wasted. 

“Sir…”, I asked.

 “Shouldn’t you maybe order troops from one of the escorting schooners to reach our location?”. 

“We have no time, we need to make sure we attack when it is daylight or we will meet our maker for sure!”, replied the captain, with asperity in his voice though keeping a low volume to not give away our location. 

After that, we were getting to infiltrate their major headquarters. We ordered soldiers to go around the two halves of the wooden barrier if there was a small gap that was just big enough for every one of our soldiers to fit it. After a few minutes, they came back with a negative response. Sadly, stealth was not an option, and so we had to go to the back entrance. In one, two, and three. We were at the entrance, two sentinels were there, guarding, as soon as they noticed us one shrieked to let the others know and the other one was in a combat stance defending himself. Out 0f the corner of my eye, I could see their units maneuvering themselves with extreme skills through the trees and their branches, separating themselves with every addition to more trees, it was a flank. Our musketeers immediately shot the two Indian sentinels and they fell with little effort distributed from our side, we had two other armed musketeers left while the ones who fired started reloading which would deem a tedious job; they would have to tear the top of a premeasured packet of gunpowder, pour it in the firing-end of the musket and pull out the rainrod located under the musket’s barrel and push the powder further in the barrel. This process had to be repeated for every shot. Similar reloading methods would come with your flintlock.  This would be the shot that starts the war, this surface area of land would become a battlefield. All our melee units came in charging with their cutlasses and so the enemies came in charging with miniature axes. Following our charge, came a raining brigade of arrows, the majority missing their intended targets, though hitting three troops, killing the two as they fell with a sigh of pain and injuring one of them in the leg, incapacitating him and making him the first victim against the melee weapons of the Indians. The sound of war was echoing through the whole forest, you could also notice all the chirping of the birds and the way nature rumbles died down as you could only hear the clinging and clanging of daggers and tomahawks coming with forceful contact with one another.  I darted in like a lightning striking an area of land, intercepting one of the fights of an Indian against my mate, digging my cutlass dagger in him, shoving him to the ground, and pulling the weapons back up at the ready. I was turning my head towards the sound I think I saved, giving him a nod of approval of which he nodded back. 

He then shouted, “Behind you!”.

 I instantly turned back around to only see a gruesome, crumbling face with an exploded chick, quickly falling on its back, lifeless. I gazed my attention towards the one who shot the bullet, it was the captain, holding out his flintlock, giving out a sigh of relief, he already lost one of his high ranks, he could not possibly lose another. Then we exchanged a nod and recommenced the fight. Slowly, more of them started falling, though the similar ratio of our fallen men was near to equal. I was faced with two combatants, one of which was holding a tomahawk and the other one holding a knife, both, at the same second, lunged at me, I dodged the first strike from the knife-holder, the second attacker tried to flank me by reaching be from behind. I deflected his hand which was holding the weapon, causing it to fall off and I reversed the direction of the blade that my dagger was facing, behind me towards my attacker, and thrust the blade. To my disappointment, it was an easy dodge from him, which was then followed by him performing a lock on my shoulders, making me incapable of dodging and striking with my hands, though still having the ability to kick. Of which, I did, when the front attacker came into the strike, I kicked him in the chest, pushing him back due to the immense force I exerted. I then dropped my weapons as I could not use them and reached for the pest’s hand that pinned me, grabbing the sleeve, and sending my Pelvis harshly back causing the soldier to topple over me and land on the ground. It was followed by a harsh kick in his throat as I picked up my leg and landed it to his most sensitive area, eliminating my opponent. By that time, the one who held the knife stood back up but then immediately met his maker, back down to the ground he erected from, followed by a musketeer reloading. I continued to my next opponent, who was fighting another of my troops. He did not expect me as I was behind him, and again I thrust both of my blades into his back, pulling it out and leaving him there, just to fall. Though, I made a grave mistake. I did not contemplate the presence of the earlier flankers, the group who separated, practically dissolving away in the forest, I thought they were trying to escape, but not at all, they were simply getting ready to pounce. And pouncing they did as in an instant, I heard a misguided shot let off and several yelping friendlies. I could see that all our musketeers have been eliminated, from above the trees, stealthily dealt with by the flankers, they were smart, very smart. All of them were crouched up looking at me on the bodies of their victim. The captain did manage to soot one with his flintlock. I pulled my flintlock as well, sadly missing the hit. We realized we were outnumbered, we had to make it out. Me, the captain, and the remainder of the troops headed for the second exit that was just parallel on the other side of the circular, wooden barrier from this exit point. We tried our best to avoid any enemy, vaulting over any barrier or scaling a wall to not reroute or slow us down. Me and my captain found ourselves in a small wooden hut that was slightly up in the tree, the enemies were making their way here. In that hut was an elderly and a child. I thought nothing of it, they were non-combatants, we would simply come back with backup and make sure that the enemies would simply start reasoning as they would find themselves outnumbered. With a shot of a flintlock and a throw of a knife, I remembered that moment, where the captain ordered the musketeer to strike the curious group that first came to see our ship. The same curious man who wore a feathered hat, the same one discussing with his group, doing anything but not showing hostility. Captain reloaded his gun, and struck the youngling, cold-blooded, with an evil smile imprinted on his face from that. I now remember. All of our men lost because we struck first on innocent lives. It is not like they were attacking us, we were expropriating their rights to even exist, how evil of us. I felt ashamed. They were not malicious like those pirates or as grand of a threat as the French. They were simple people. “Cheer up chap, their people killed our men”, said he, patting my shoulder.

 We sprinted, finally reaching the exit. At this point, all we could see were two other troops, one of the following from behind, the other leading the way. Unanticipatedly, the leading mate suddenly fell. At first, I thought he tripped, though I was not intending to really help him up myself; though I could see that the group of leaves below him suddenly collapsed, him going down with it and then a gruesome loud sound that distinguished pain. It was a trap, which we avoided. From the corner of my eye, I saw him, with a plethora of wooden spikes piercing through him. A horrifying sight indeed. Though at the same time as the attempt of erasing such memory in my mental archive, I realized I had no footing beneath me and I started toppling down a range of down-hill stones and other natural components. With every impact that landed, the world around me faded away piece by piece. My realm turned to sudden, eternal darkness.

The land around me is refabricating. The scent of nature battering my nostrils, though still sensitive due to having my soul get pulled back into me. My ears, ringing with painfully pitched hissing, stabbing away at my brain. Finally easing to an end, I picked myself up. I realized I was practically just a few meters away from the part of the river I have entered from the ship. I then remembered. I was chased. I instantly checked around me to make sure there was no presence of a predator. Gladly, for now, I was all to myself. I stood up instantly, reaching for the gaping hole that let the rays of light glimmer and illuminate the forest. It was like setting foot through a portal. I reached. To my grand dismay, I saw the man of war with the two schooners slowly going further away, at some point fading away into the abyss of the vast ocean land. I was going to shout. Shout my location. But I bit my tongue. Either it was the fact that I knew they would not hear me or the danger of revealing my location to the ones I have innocently killed. I was filled with anger, that is all I knew: though I also know I need to go find shelter and safety. Stepping back in from the portal I came from, I headed for the other end of this forestry complex. Finally, reaching a point which had not too many trees and was next to a small dam. This would be the place I guess I would have to live. Nonetheless, I would have to train my body to live under those conditions. So I trained, for years to come, as somewhat of compensation, from the time I would bring some of the goods I hunted to the doorstep of the village of the natives, training has proven me to be more silent than even a mouse so I took that as an advantage. Nevertheless, I feel I still need to repay them more, especially for all the losses they have to go through and the blood, a handful of it, laughing at me from my hands. 



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