An hour passed, and one of the other marines came to take his shift. Arriving to find the first gone without a trace, he peered through the window of the door. A flash of light gave a clear picture of his comrade's headless body, suspended in a sea of entanglement.
Not letting revenge cloud his judgment just yet, he ran to wake the only other person at the facility with advanced weapons training, knowing that two is better than one, but that three would have been best.
They got to the door and stood, backs to the wall, for a second, one on one side, one on the other. Then they turned, facing the door, one hand reaching for the panel, and suddenly a sound they'd heard many times before in battle. Before they could turn to save their lives, they'd been impaled from behind by a blinker. They each dropped their weapons and slumped on the ground, after they were released from its grasp. They each coughed up blood and stopped; stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped living.
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