Digital Rendition of the Colorado Seven

Following the massive floods in Colorado, during September 2013, over 20 national guard soldiers have gone missing. The following work is excerpt from the journal of Colorado National Guard corporal William Benson, confirmed MIA.

Deployment Hour

The constant sound of howling wind was all we could hear over the occasional conversations in the C-130. We discussed usual matters on the way to Denver. The rain was noticeably heavier, giving the feeling akin to speeding into a hurricane. The plane shook, constantly being rocked by the storm. After a long time of turbulence, we reached ground.

"Welcome to Centennial airport," a squad leader mumbled. The C-130's steel door opened, revealing cloudy, gray skies.

"Move up," a young colonel stated solemnly.

We grabbed our rifles and rushed out of the gunship. We approached the airport, with a light rain trickling from the skies.


Colorado National Guard general Michael Edwards rose to the stand and clutched the microphone, "We have had recent emergencies in this area, specifically two floods nearby. We're going to have to get there as soon as possible."

As he finished his sentence, a map of Colorado appeared on a large television, "Large flooding southward at Colorado springs. Bravo 8, rise."

Our squad leader nodded, and we rose from the folding chairs.

"Good, good. Head south to Colorado springs and ensure people are protected from the incoming storm," the general ordered.

"Sir, yes sir!" our squad leader shouted. We rushed out of the briefing room and walked outside, it was still raining. "Alright, separate forces."

We nodded and our forces split in two. I boarded the humvee, along with a few others. The rest got into a M809 truck. For the rest of the evening, we drove down Interstate 25.


Our Humvee was getting noticeably slower, the light of day slipping away like the sanity of an insane man. The entire squad was visibly tired. I had already fallen asleep three times aboard the Humvee, so I barely paid attention to anything anymore. I looked around, and saw the driver. He was asleep. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, forcing me to push him awake.

"What the fuck, you goddamn motherfucking bastard!" he shouted, startled. The vehicle, still out of control, smashed into the highway concrete. The Humvee splashed, jerking me against the ceiling. I passed out, the only thing saving me from a fatal concussion being my helmet. After at least five minutes of being unconscious, I woke up to the sound of water rushing. I could not see my hands, so I felt for the Humvee doors. The lights were gone, so it must've been a long time. Nobody was in the Humvee, so I had to help myself. The door finally opened, forcing more water into the Humvee. I closed my eyes and struggled out of the Humvee. I gasped for air and swam against the current. After what felt like 30 minutes, my right arm reached what felt like mud and leaves. 


I dragged myself towards the land, breathing heavily. I had no flashlights, so I felt through the darkness. The sudden sound of beating against a person, followed by a muffled whimper. I reached into the dark void, and felt a rather large stone. Since I was unarmed, I ducked behind the stone. The whimpers continued as the beating intensified. The whimpers stopped, and a last swinging sound was heard, followed by the sound of bones smashing. I struggled not to scream or run, waiting for this murderer to leave. I heard dragging, and the humming of a tune. After thirty minutes of waiting, I left the stone quietly.


Crews in rescue helicopters looking to save Colorado residents from floodwater that have left at least five dead and nearly 500 unaccounted for were grounded Sunday over weather conditions.

The Larimer County Sheriff’s Office said Sunday afternoon that 16 helicopters have been brought in to help in rescue efforts, but only ground crews are currently able to operate. Air crews were hoping to provide airlifts in Longmont, Fort Collins and Weld County.

Authorities anticipate additional flooding as two to four inches of rainfall were in the forecast for the area on Sunday.


I trudged across the moist, dead leaves that littered the forest floor. I walked blindly through the void, wondering where the hell I was headed. I heard the sound of a stream, and suddenly the sound of leaves crackling. In panic, I felt my way to cover. I tripped and fell into the stream, which dragged me into the waters. I was dragged into the stream and struggled to breathe. I finally got back into control, and swam down the waters. After what felt like hours, I heard the sound of cars. Fucking. Cars. I swam towards the end of the river, beside the highway. As I reached for the shore, the highway's concrete was smashed apart by a bullet. This thrust me back into my panic mode, as I was being hunted. I returned to the water, swimming quickly. Death will not take me, that stupid fucker!

I should thank whatever the hell caused me to fall in the water. Even though it could've been wildlife, it helped me realize I was being hunted.

After awhile of swimming, the river split. Plants continued to obscure my view, however I could see the lights of civilization. If I went there, I would die. I remained low in the bushes, and watched. I only saw the beam of a flashlight lighting against the ground, for everything else was obscured by the darkness. The beam, gradually approaching, shone its light onto the bushes, but could not see me. The light turned direction, and moved down the riverside.

After nearly being killed, I slowly moved down the river, looking beyond the chain-link fence protecting the warehouse from burglars. The rain, now much stronger, continued to fall. I watched two workers talk, whilst contemplating.

"These rains are getting really fucking bad, we're going to have to move out for the time being. Elsewise, we could lose all sorts of shit people've been storing in this place," a worker discussed.

"Yeah, we've got a few hundred thousand on the line. Hopefully we get a salary rais-" he stopped.

A beam, sticking to the darkness, shifted into facility grounds.

"Who the fuck are you? Get the fuck out!" a worker shouted.

"Pedro, that's a bad idea. He could be armed!" the second worker said. The light shone onto Pedro's face, and a mace smashed his skull. The second worker stepped back in horror, but before he could scream, a bullet decapitated him from behind. A hole was made through the fence, implying there were two men on the hunt for me and others. The light shut off, as the worker was beaten to a pulp, as he slowly cried and whimpered.

The sound of dragging against concrete was heard, followed by a chuckle. The flashlight's ominous beam returned to life, slowly vanishing into the darkness. After waiting another long while, I climbed the chain-link fence.

The storage facility.

Storage Call

I avoided the light, or else they could see me. Being as silent as I could, I felt for Pedro or the other worker's corpse. After 25 minutes of searching, I found the corpse. I cringed, and held my vomit, whilst reaching to take his keycard and flashlight. Upon finding both, I advised myself to use the flashlight with caution, or else they'd see me. I approached the storage house, and slipped the keycard against the detector. The door opened, and I creeped in. The rain was terrifyingly strong, now howling and raging against the metal roof.

I walked by every storage room, checking every one. I finally saw a firearm, and excitedly rushed for my keycard. Before I could slip the keycard, I heard thunder. The lights shut off abruptly, and the constant buzzing of fluorescent light was silenced.

"Who's there?" I suddenly heard.

Shit, security guards, I thought. I silently reached a vacant storage room, and sought shelter there. I heard the door opening slowly.

"Show yourself, motherfucker!" the guard shouted. I heard three gunshots, the sound of falling was heard. I could only hear choking, and the sound of repeated beating.

"Slut goddamn fuck shit dick-ass cunt fucking damn motherfucker shit fag-ass fucker," I heard a voice mumble, in unbelievable anger. "The fucking goddamn bastard isn't here," the voice mumbled.

The light shone away, and I watched as the beam of light vanished into the darkness. Daylight was coming real soon, I had to get to the wilderness. To the wilderness where no light penetrates. I prepared for my journey, stealing food from the workers' lunch room. Though I limited my flashlight use, I was certain I was alone. I departed from the facility, and scampered down the rainy streets, making sure to stay low. I finally reached the forest, which had an incline in altitude. Walking evolved into hiking, which led me to assume I was climbing Raspberry Butte.

Upon reaching the peak, I watched ahead. In the darkness which was slowly getting brighter, I sighted Dakan Mountain. Excellent, perhaps we can get hiding there, I thought. Knowing I was low on time, I started to sprint until the altitude was in a decline. After 20 minutes, I saw a farmer walk out of his house. He approached me.

"What're you doing running like this in these parts, 'specially with a soldier uniform?" he asked, a strong Tennessee accent in his voice.

"Just a training exercise. SERE training, to be specific. Good day to you!" I said. He chuckled and nodded, waving. After he shifted his attention away, I noticed three light beams. I immediately ducked in the tall grass. The lights got closer. I felt bad, for I could not help him. Poor soul.

I waited for them to leave, which they did. I slowly peeked from the grass, watching them open the door of the house. They're distracted, I thought. I cautiously left the fields and entered the dark recesses of Dakan Mountain. The sun rose from the ground, shining light upon the world. I had little time left. I had to get to darker ground. Darkness was my friend. Only way I could hide. I navigated deeper into the woods, the undergrowth increasing in density. I finally got what I came for - an abandoned mine. The rain was still a slight drizzle, and my survival attempts had gotten me soaked. I was feeling the catalyst of pneumonia, and was certain I'd die. If I was to die, I'd be taking those motherfuckers with me.


After dragging myself through spiderwebs, smashed wood struts, collapsed mine-carts, and incomplete supports, I finally entered the void. I entered an even larger space - seemingly cavernous. Then I heard the footsteps. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! I mentally noted.

"Come at me, cock-sucker!" I shouted. That's when the light came to life. I ran. I fucking ran. I fucking ran until I reached an enclosed room. The locks won't last. I know it's coming. I've seen his face with my flashlight. He was a fucking soldier. I gather my soul and body's last strength to write this story down, while I either die of pneumonia or get killed by the bastard.



One of the drawings after the last written entry.

Following numerous searches, the only found trace of William Benson's fate was his journal, found days after his squad went off-grid. Despite this, multiple claims and reports of being "shot at" by a man with "facial features correlating to that of the recently-MIA William Benson."

All these claims are from former friends of the late Benson, who has been the eighth of recent disappearances of Colorado residents and National Guard personnel. The journal's so-called "proof" of this event has been claimed to be "written while he was going delirious from starvation or wounds." However, wreckage of the Humvee and truck were found in the floodwater on 9/12/13, 8:37 AM CST.

Community content is available under CC-BY-SA unless otherwise noted.