Survival Monologue

The air is thick with smoke and people are running amok-- their screams echoing in my ears. I’m looking through the cracks of the trees, but a figure has appeared and seated himself in front of my view. Their face isn’t visible, but I can assume they’re not here to assist these helpless people; they’re devising a plan to harm them like a lion preying on zebras.
All their faces are blurred as if my dream wishes to keep these people anonymous.
On my left, a survivor is wandering by, unaware of the danger that lurks in the shadows. Without success I’m pleading for him to turn around and go back to the beach where it’s safer, but, nonetheless, I’m merely a wisp in a dream. With extreme diligence, the figure leaps on him and knocks him unconscious

before lugging his body through the tall grasses.
My heart pounds violently in my chest as I pursue them and there’s a burning pain in my heart that is telling me no one is going to win this battle.
Large bushes provide the predator cover while he tortures the captive and shouts in-audible words at him. The captive’s not answering, his face is screwed up into a pleading look, but he should know that mercy can’t be found in his abductor’s soul-- only darkness. Despite his constant begging, the abductor slices off his head with a quick movement of his arm.
My stomach is sick now as I watch the abductor take pride in his kill and casually roll the head underneath his foot.
Just as he begins trekking in the opposite direction, another man comes charging from the tall grass and tackles the other to the ground. They wrestle violently in the grass, trying to kill each other. Now both on their feet, the second man lunges and manages to smash the other’s face into a tree repeatedly until he sees the gore running down the side of the trunk.