October 20, 1968, Quảng Nam Province, Vietnam

It was a beautiful day in the skies over Vietnam. A lone helicopter flew over the seemingly endless jungles of Vietnam where danger and potential death awaited anyone who dared to set foot in there. All the more reason for Malcolm and the unit of U.S Army soldiers to have a helicopter to transport them rather than go along a river on a raft, when at any given time there could be an ambush. Besides, napping while listening to the sound of the humming engine and the helicopter rotors going around was more comfy than sitting on a raft, constantly on the edge due to the risk of NVA ambushing them.

It was fairly quiet, besides the constant sound that the helicopter made, it was so quiet that the Captain and his men could get some shut eye on the way back to base. As hours passed, the sun went down, and noon took over the day. Though it was tannish and calming, there seemed to be nothing going wrong that day. Until...

"SHIT, WE'RE UNDER FIRE!" the pilot shouted in surprise as machine guns started firing and an RPG-7 rocket just missed them by a few meters. This awakened Him and his comrades into battle-readiness as they grabbed their rifles and fired back as best could aboard a helicopter trying not to get hit by the rockets. "Commie bastar!" one of the American soldiers aboard the helicopter yelled in a quite sharp manner, as one would go from relaxation to adrenaline-induced combat-state.

"MAYDAY, MAYDAY, WE'RE UNDER FIRE AT QU..." the pilot was shot dead, and the helicopter was going down said the pilot as they are falling and Malcolm watched as the Lieutenant was flung out of the chopper by the impact, yet Malcolm still hung onto the inside of the chopper for his dear life. The once fine work of machinery, known as the UH-1 was falling towards the earth now, crashing into the ground with such a force, the blades ripped through the dirt, and luck was on the boy's side as the now downed helicopter slid to a stop on the ground that only a few plates of metal had come off instead of the whole thing just breaking on impact, leaving no chance of survival.

Through the smoke and flames encasing the vehicle he could make out the struggling pilot, trapped in his chair, trying to fight his way out of the seat belt. It was too late for the pilot though, but the Sergeant was not going to take death so willingly, the soldier while wounded with several broken ribs, blood covering his face from a large gash on his head, and his uniform torn up, and stained with his own blood. Yet he still had his worn-out shotgun strapped to his back, his pistol on his side, and the Tiger strap Thumper given by a friend still functional.

Luck had it though that he wasn't going to make it to his men before he was under fire from Enemy troops. "Well shit. Can I not go ten feet without taking enemy fire?" He muttered.

taking cover behind a few rocks, taking potshots at the advancing group of Vietnamese soldiers. Hitting one in the chest oddly enough. "Damn, this is fucking hell!" He yelled as he poked out from behind the rocks, continuing his assault with his shotgun dropping a few more soldiers, before ducking back into cover, and hurriedly loading more shells into the chamber, it was time to go all out on these Vietnamese bastards. Aiming down the sight, he put the shotgun back before switching to the American sidearm, he was going to make every shot count, since he only had a few rounds left. The NVA was swarming his position after the Huey crashed, leaving him with no where to go, but just to dig in, and keep fighting. At this point the enemy was close enough, he saw some starting to draw knives, and machetes, just simple melee weapons since they realized there was no point to waste so much ammo on a single soldier. So he took the same action, slinging his Shotgun over his back, he drew his Knife, muttering to himself.

Malcolm stepped out of cover now, knife in his left hand, and his pistol in his right hand. He saw NVA troops cautiously approaching him, after what he did to the one soldier with only a knife, they could only wonder what he like in close combat. "Well come on, let's fucking do this!" Malcolm yelled, watching as one man charged him with a machete, He could only grin as he shot the man twice, watching the Vietnamese soldier hit the ground with a thud. Oh this was too easy already. As two more men ran at him, He ducked, taking one by the wrist, and forcing him to stab his ally, before He rammed his blade into the second soldiers neck. For each NVA that charged him, he was already a step ahead, slaughtering man after man, however he watched as soldiers began to fall from gunshot wounds without him even firing his pistol. He looked back seeing four more Army troops here to assist him. "Finally, I thought I was going to have to kill them all by myself." Malcolm said with a chuckle as he slipped his pistol and knife away, taking his shotgun out again for use. It looked like he was going to be fighting just a bit longer. "Well come on, let's go boys, up the hill, and flank." Said the Sargent of the group as they nod and try to get up the hill.

They charge once more before hearing the sound of something of a bomb they looked up and was surprised and terrified to see a bomb not any other bomb but a napalm burning death bomb at their position by a speeding jet "shit run!!!!" Scream Malcolm but it was too late as napalm burn them as they was on fire and scream as they drop like flies and was rolling while Malcolm is having a painful death rather than a painless one and maybe this is punishment from god as Malcolm prayed for forgiveness before he succumb to the burns thus melting his body and the jungle around it
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Until he realized, eyes still closed, that everything had calmed down. He was no longer feel the burning of flames on his body in fact, he was just standing still, no burning, no missing limbs just standing in attention. He opened his eyes just to see pure blackness. "I guess this.... is the underworld, so that means I'm dead. At least Hell isn't as hot as the priest had said" he thought to himself. On a second look, he realized himself still wearing his green vest and his helmet, with his weapons still in his hands. He wondered how he was allowed to carry guns to Hell with him.

And all he could see is a white, American-looking accountant sitting in a desk filled with papers while smoking a cigarette.  Malcolm could've killed for a smoke then, but he tried his best not to even think about that, since he's in the presence of a being than any other human. Or, at least that's what he thought. One thought did go through his mind:

"Is this God of something?"

"Next...." this man, "God" said in a calm, monotone voice, with a burning cigarette in his hand. Malcolm stepped forward, his gun on his shoulder, looking at his feet trying to be as humble as he could, but as he stepped forward and stood still, he raised his head, noticing all the doors around him. Without thinking he said one simple phrase out of impulse:

"What the frick is this?"

his cursing in the presence of a white collar-bureaucrat "God", he lowered his face back to staring at his feet, but the god did not answer. Malcolm looked back at him, and saw him writing something on paper with what seemed to be an expensive ink pen.

"Hey, listen fella..." he said in a tone, though he isn't scared on the outside, he was uneasy on the inside, just like the fiercest of warriors would be at the presence of a deity. "I meant no disrespect to you or Jesus or to anyone..."

"God" just pushed his glassed closer to his eyes, wrote his signature to a piece of paper which included Malcolm's name, rank, and time and place of death. As he did this, Malcolm could feel himself being sucked into a dark hole in a stone doorway. As he was being sucked into it, panic began going through his mind, as well as his body.

"Wait, wait, I need damn answe-!!!!" Till he was sucked in the portal as it closed up on him as The accountant puff another cigarette as a sign appeared on the desk saying "lunch break"

Chapter end
Another Sentinels out and let's begin our story shall we?.......