Tropic Blunder

You're hearing whispers from the demon
 But all you see are it's eyes
 But if it bleeds, this you know,
 You know it can die
 Killing machine from beyond this world
 Hunting men for sport
 Tearing the flesh and the skin from their bodies
 Suicide your only resort
 There are no bounds to its level of violence
 A walking nightmare that you cannot see
 Killing both friend and foe
 Bloody corpses hanging from trees
 You're being stalked by the demon
 The smell of death clings to the air
 You're being stalked by the demon
 Feel the gaze of its disembodied stares
 Raining hellfire, gripping death in your hands
 Level all that stands in front of you, the living be damned
 Ripping through the jungle
 A deadly visage
 Man is its plaything
 A weapon of precision
 Refusing to surrender, knowing only how to fight
 Primal lust for survival, live by the knife
 Survival of the fittest, until your species is laid to rest