Mrs. Murphy,

I feel the greatest need to apologize for the loss of your son Patrick. He was like a big brother to me and yet I was unable to protect him. You see, on our latest assignment we had been travelling within the Amazon. I will recount things of which I am permitted to do so within this letter, for some things that occurred down there are best left not to be retold – not to mention that if certain things are mentioned the penalty will likely be death for the both of us.

We had been traveling within the forest for about two weeks when I noticed that Patrick was acting somewhat abnormal for his usual self. He had gone quiet and the usually bright emerald eyes had dulled. I had suspicion that he was growing ill or perhaps had been ill the entire time. As his endurance grew weaker, his humor escalated – sometimes to the point of which he was laughing in such a hysteric state that nothing could be done in order to calm him.

Was he calm and in control of himself in front of others besides me? Of course, he seemed to realize that the mission was most important and that the frugal manner of ones health is idiotic. Though it highly important to maintain ones sanity and so forth, due to the fact that if one is in poor health of body and mind it could be threatening to the mission, but you already know this of course. After all, I am sure you have encountered far more things then Patrick or I.

As we traveled through the forest, colors of all sorts flooded our vision. The greenery, not to mention the vivid colors of the wildlife could likely enrapture the soul of an artist, but to us they were merely roadblocks, shelter, food, or in the case of something being poisonous – a deadly enemy. I must admit some of the big cats put up a bit of a fight, but didn't do as much damage as the poisonous plant nearby a village we had gone to. Said plant was the reason the many of their people's deaths and therefore was proclaimed to be cursed.

I recall the day we had found a large waterfall, that had a cave within it. The water was so cold and pure, yet within the cave was a stench of death. Seems like we were not the first to be in said cave, after all the rotting flesh and bones clearly indicated it to be another beings habitat. We persevered to camp in that reeking grave over night, not knowing that someone had been tracking us since the cursed plant village from only days before.

It had to have been around midnight when our pursuers moronically fired a round off. Now that I think of it more, they were likely skittish due to some wild animal. I had quickly wakened Patrick, for I was the one keeping watch that night. We packed up our things and scurried out of the waterfall cave, unknowing of how many there where it was best that we moved quickly – or so Patrick had told me. I wish we would have stayed in the cave, maybe then Patrick would still be here.

We had to go up and there was no other way than to climb the slippery rocks of the waterfall. Precations and rationality was not on the mind as the shots got closer. Soon enough gunfire rained down around us. Being trapped in such a situation is not a good thing ma'am. One misplacement of a hand or foot on the slick surface and one would fall to their death. It was impossible to fire back in the pitch of night on those cursed rocks. As we had neared the top I felt a warm, sticky substance hit my face, for your son was higher than I. Somehow we managed to get to the top of the cliffish surface, which is when I found what the cause for the substance was. There before me lay a bloody man laughing madly. The blood entranced him to a point of which it was frightening.

Try as I may he refused to budge as he shouted, "See? Do you see now why nobody else wanted this mission my little dragon friend? It is because this place is nuts. It's insane!" The emerald eyes were wide and frightening as he thrashed about laughing. Never before had I thought I would see such a calm and controlled man flip his lid.

What happened after that I dare not say, for if I were to repeat what else was said, what else happened – I fear you will not be able to rest at night. I realize I have likely said to much as it is and I apologize, but it is disgraceful for the upper ranks to tell you he died from a mere snake bite. That I assure you is a lie! That said snake could walk and talk. Patrick saved me from that said snake's blade. That said snake is now dead – its carcass is in that chamber filled by the stench of death and his buddies who search for him will find a nasty surprise a little note scrawled deeply into the smooth, yet hard rock above the said snake's severed head.

Again, I offer my condolences.

Drake Grave