Warning: Gore
He searched the bamboo grove. As his shoes trampled bamboo seeds, the bamboo leaves, glazed orange from the setting sun, rustled in the wind. ‘The treasure was always at the heart,’ Dave thought, as he pulled out a gun, ignoring everything. He ignored every sound, from the rustling leaves to crushing seeds. Except one hypnotic sound- it beckoned him further into the lush grove. The distant sound soon pounded on his ears. Any sane human would be awoken from such a distressing call, but Dave knew the truth. There is gold. Gold is here, not whatever this headache is. But he saw the incarnation of the Devil! A native! A native stealing his precious gold! So silently, so blatantly so arrogantly! ‘That greedy thug!” Dave thought as he whipped out his pistol. Dave shot the thug, flinging both of them off the gold. As his world flipp over, he heard a thud vibrate through his head. As he looked down, he saw that his chest was impaled by a sprouting bamboo shoot. And he also saw gold. Gold and only gold shimmered in his eyes. He ripped himself from the group and hurled himself at the gold, still pure and innocent, even as it was contaminated by that disgusting native. Dave hugged his gold and rushed away from the thief, listening, but only to notice that the thief never ran after him. He turned his head back, curious of what that skeeving thug had in mind. He saw an orphaned child crying as the native slowly picked her up and turned around. Dave was baffled that these natives had such a conscience. ‘Probably some beastial instinct,’ Dave thought as he ran out of the yellow-hued grove with his treasure. Only, he never left the grove. As for who shot him dead, Dave couldn't care, except that his limp fingers soon let go of his gold.
