Editing Marco Domici: Blade 0

Marco felt the thick green icor slowly burn his skin. The dhragera thrashed once and then gurgled through the unnatural gap Marco had made in its throat. For a few seconds Marco focused on what the tribesmen had told him; the water must be kept pure! He quickly pulled off his shirt and wiped most of the dead beast's blood off his arm. The three toed claws had ripped open much of his right forearm and some of his chest. At least one rib was broken, possibly two. As quickly as the dhragera's tentacles had grabbed him so the adrenaline rush faded and nausea took over. It was several minutes before he could overcome the stench of bile and warm blood enough to crawl away.  

Like any high school kid on a mission trip, Marco was expecting to share his faith while eating some possibly disgusting things. The worse expectation, other than not being able to vox Susie once a week, would be the camp clean up chores. Marco was glad the other kids didn't notice how good he was at sweeping and mopping; his was the only family that couldn't afford a maid.

He was sure the youth pastor, Yu-Wei Johnson, saw. Mr Johnson saw much more than he let on, though. Marco's secret was safe with him. As Marco started to feel faint he hoped Mr Johnson knew first aid, too. And of course, where Marco was.

"Hopefully the others ran there." Marco thought as he tried to lightly breathe. His body really wanted to gasp, but that hurt too much. The others were smarter than Marco, they had ran as soon as the dhragera broke the surface. Except Jimmie. Jimmie couldn't run away; he was on a spit of rock behind the dhragera. Jimmie had no place to run.

"Jimmie! Look out!" Marco had screamed as loud as the others. Yet when they vanished up the ancient stone steps he picked up several rocks and started throwing them at the tentacles that were reaching towards Jimmie. Although the dhragera wasn't more than forty or fifty kilos it still had a lot more muscle mass than the junior high waif that was Jimmie Todd.  

Jimmie and Marco had become fast friends last year during camp out season. Their dads had known each other before the father-son camp Mr Johnson organized. Marco's dad had taught Jimmie how to swim, Marco was already on the school team. Mr Todd had blushed when Marco had asked to learn something from him. "I don't know much a school boy should know, Marco."

"Sure you do dad!" Jimmie had piped up. "Marco, you should see my dad with a knife. He's cool!"

Mr Todd had blushed a bit before Marco's dad chimed in. "Might not be a bad idea, Carlos. The boys need to be able to take care of themselves. I guarantee you Marco spends too much time in his studies! Would do him good to learn something like that."

Marco had learned. Well, as much as a gangly teen boy with one eye on a cute blond and the other buried in college prep studies. He had tried his best to mimic Mr Todd and he practiced at night when mom wasn't around. Dad had suggested that and Marco listened. 

Marco sighed deeply but couldn't make it up the first step. His knife was still half buried in the dhragera's chest. Mr Todd had given the boys matching knives before they left on the mission trip. "These are camp knives, kids. Made as a tool. But in a pinch they can be used for defense. I do not want to hear stories about you two misusing them!" He had wagged his finger. "Jimmie, Marco? You understand?"

Jimmie had run up the steps when the beast turned and attacked Marco. He would find Mr Johnson. Marco rested against the bottom step. "I didn't misuse the knife, Mr Todd." He thought, and then passed out.