"In a Strange Land"

I believe that I am dead.

Now, I cannot say for certain that I am in Hell, for it does not look like what I believe it would look like. In fact, it looks quite like a checkerboard, all white and black, spread across to the horizon. But it must be Hell, in fact, for a vile bat creature came to me and spoke with a hissing voice. It claimed that this was all some sort of game and I had to kill or be killed, as the case may be.

I shot it with my Mauser rifle. Then I shot it again and again until it stopped twitching.

The Mauser was a gift from Pancho Villa before the Battle of Tierra Blanca. I still remember that day, though my memory of other days grows hazy at points. Such as the day I found myself here.

I remember the heat of the sun baking the city of Chihuahua. Even in December, it was hot there. I had dropped off my letter to Blanche and watched as Pancho's army paraded down the street, their bandoliers wrapped around their chests with pride.

I went to join them and then the sun blinded me for a moment and I closed my eyes.

And I opened them here.

I have what I was holding back in Chihuahua - my Mauser, my pack, and my writing utensils - but in addition there was a strange device. After I had shot the bat creature, I looked closely at the device and found it came with a small book attached that explained how one used it.

It's apparently something called a "lap-top computer" and it will allow me to communicate to the world outside this Hell. What wondrous technology.

In any case, though I may be in Hell, I shall explore all I can and do as any good journalist does, though my age is more than three score. I shall be Ambrose Bierce, Hell's own reporter.