Author's note: This was actually an odd dream of mine one morning before work. I have no clue what could have caused this dream but it bothered the hell out of me; so much so that I had to put it to paper. This post is a revised and edit "final draft" of the story. Let me know what y'all think.

1900 yesterday evening, my platoon was in Yakima training. the vast empty hills peppered with sage brush showed no sign of civilization outside of dirt and gravel trails. The wind was unforgiving as I reached for the chapstick that I kept in the breast pocket of my uniform. The smell of diesel and body odor permeated the dry air around me, an odd smell we commonly referred to as the "field smell." I had decided to check my night vision device to confirm once more that it still functioned properly. I put a fresh battery in the monocular, powered it on, and peered through the lens. It worked just fine. I turned and looked around the patrol base with it, adjusting the focus onto the furthest striker from me, one of the many forming the perimeter. I noticed something strange, three translucent figures that seems to be floating near the north side of our base. Lifting the monocular, I looked again with my bare eyes and saw nothing. Once more I looked with the monocular and saw them still floating, motionless. At this point I was spooked but said nothing, I didn't need my leadership thinking I had lost my mind on this field problem.

The following morning we got up early to run our day mission. On our return late that afternoon I didn't see them. Quickly I checked all my gear, sensitive items, and performed a speedy post-mission check of my vehicle. After I had finished, I once again looked to where I had seen the figures the day prior and, to my horror, they were there. This time solid and visible to the naked eye, but colorless. To the left was a little girl who looked to roughly nine or ten years old, a boy of similar age, and to the right levitated a young woman clad in a poodle skirt and pearl necklace with voluminous curled hair. Several members of my platoon had seen them and were attempting to touch them or somehow get their attention while others kept distance. Their efforts were futile as they met with some force pushing their hands or anything that was tossed away from the figures. They remained like statues despite people's best attempts to elicit some form of response. Then an idea hit me, I rushed to my assault pack in the back of my vehicle and grabbed a can of aerosol body spray and a lighter. Once I returned to the figures I held the lighter in front of the nozzle on the can and sprayed, sending something of a fireball into the face of the young woman. She moved in a horrifying manner. Her head turned toward me as she made eye contact, ever so slowly. Her face twisted into an expression of pain, anger, and disbelief. I was struck with paralyzing terror. Her face continued to contort in unnatural ways not possible for ordinary people. It was then that the little girl spoke in a voice that chilled my very bones. It's sounded as though an other, deeper voice was layered on top of her's, but was speaking backwards as she spoke forewords. Nobody could understand what she said aside from a single word that we all heard. "Help."