Story By: Bill Turner
It was a cold and rainy night in the Pacific Northwest. A team of US Military operatives was on a covert mission to capture a legendary creature that had been sighted several times in the area: Bigfoot. The team had been tracking the beast for weeks, using high-tech equipment and satellite imagery. They had finally located its lair, a cave hidden in the dense forest.
The team approached the cave cautiously, armed with tranquilizer guns and nets. They hoped to capture Bigfoot alive and take it to a secret military installation, where it would be studied and interrogated. They had orders to shoot to kill if necessary, but they preferred to avoid that option.
The team leader signaled to his men to split up and surround the cave. He then entered the cave with two others, while the rest stayed outside as backup. The cave was dark and damp, filled with bones and animal carcasses. The team leader switched on his night vision goggles and scanned the area. He saw a large, hairy figure sleeping in a corner. It was Bigfoot.
He whispered to his men to get ready. He aimed his tranquilizer gun at the creature’s chest and pulled the trigger. The dart hit Bigfoot’s fur, but bounced off without penetrating. Bigfoot woke up with a roar and stood up. It was over eight feet tall, with muscular arms and legs, a massive chest, and a fierce face. It had long, brown hair all over its body, except for its face and hands. It had dark eyes, a flat nose, and a wide mouth with sharp teeth.
Bigfoot saw the intruders and charged at them with a growl. The team leader fired another dart, but missed. The other two men also fired, but their darts had no effect either. Bigfoot reached them in seconds and grabbed one of them by the neck. He lifted him up and threw him against the wall with a thud. The man fell to the ground, unconscious.
The team leader and the other man retreated to the cave entrance, firing their guns as they ran. Bigfoot followed them, unfazed by the darts. He reached the entrance and saw more men waiting for him outside. He roared again and lunged at them.
The men outside opened fire with their guns, hoping to stop Bigfoot before he escaped. They hit him several times, but he kept coming. He knocked down some of them with his fists and feet, while others dodged or ran away. He reached the edge of the forest and disappeared into the trees.
The team leader regrouped with his surviving men and checked on their status. He counted six casualties, including two dead and four wounded. He cursed under his breath and contacted his superiors.
“Sir, we failed to capture Bigfoot,” he said into his radio. “He was too strong for our tranquilizers and bullets. He escaped into the forest.”
“Damn it,” his superior said. “We can’t let him get away. We need him for our research project.”
“I know, sir,” the team leader said. “But he’s gone now. We don’t know where he is.”
“Find him,” his superior said. “Use whatever means necessary.”
“Yes, sir,” the team leader said.
He turned to his men and ordered them to search the forest for Bigfoot’s tracks.
They obeyed, but they knew it was hopeless.
Bigfoot was gone.
And he would never be captured again.
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