Nigger. I'm a reenactor too. Blanks flash like a motherfucker, more so than live ammunition. They're a lot noisier too. Blank firing adapters are easy as hell to get for any decently common firearm. They range from like S8 for ComBloc surplus training BFAs for AKs and such, to S100+ US-made fancy low-profile BFAs. I think you have a very vague understanding of how a blank works. A BFA doesn't plug the barrel, what it does is constrict it to about 3mm. Speaking of BFAs. I have a somewhat related story.

>be inna early 90s
>out doing WWII re-enactment, on the German side as Falschirmjaegers
>good day of firefights, driving around in a Kubelwagon while in firefights, and napping during firefights
>night falls
>sitting around fire with buddy, he was our machine gunner and I was his loader
>he's got a semi-auto converted MG42 because he has far too much time and money on his hands
>I have a Karabiner 98k
>hear, in a shitty German accent, "Amerikaner, 12 o'clock!"
>American airborne dude wanders out of the bushes in front of us
>quiet fucker, we didn't hear or notice him tramping through the brush
>The actual re-enactment ended long ago, next engagement is tomorrow, so we don't light him up
>he walks up to our campfire and sits down, and says, this time with a standard pacific northwest accent,"Tim, wanna have a cigarette with me?"
>my name is Dorn, close enough
>wait why the hell is he addressing me by name, I've never even seen this dude before
>must be a new guy, the other americans probably named us
>”Ja, ein moment"
>produce cigarettes and matches
>hand a cigarette to him, and one to my buddy
>strike a match and light my own, then pass matches around
>american dude is smoking HARD, like taking a huge drag every second
>practically shoving the cigarette into his face
>he's done with it in like 30 seconds
>drops the butt on the ground, doesn't extinguish it
>l figure it's a combination of him probably being drunk(like us) and the long marches
>cont

>after we finish our smokes, the dude just sits there and stares at the fire silently for like 5 minutes
>"So what's your name?"
>"Johann, you can call me John if you want."
>there's a guy on the american side named Johann who goes by John
>except this isn't him, and I've known the other Johann for like 3 years at this point
>"Hell of a coincidence, did you meet the other Johann?"
>he just fucking smiles at us
>not even a smile, more like pulling his lips back like a growling dog
>hear a bunch of crashing in the bushes behind where сгееру-john came out
>American airborne walks out of the bushes, visibly annoyed
>"Hey asshole, would you fucking mind giving us back Tim's kit? That shit isn't cool. He's fucking freezing, it’s 35 degrees out."
>looks over to us
>"And why the hell didn't you turn him around as soon as he got back here? I told you guys to stop fucking letting teenagers into your group." deferring to an incident in which a drunk 16-year-old nearly burned down Airborne #2's tent
>drop german accents
>we very rarely go out of character unless someone gets injured
>"dude, we don't fucking know this guy, we thought he was one of yours"
>creepy dude is mock-reloading his rifle
>like moving his hand over to his bandolier, not actually pulling anything out, and putting the nothing into the breach of his M1 rifle
>does this like 3 times while we all just fucking stare at him
>suddenly jolts upright, starts laughing like crazy, more like an inhuman cackle
>we all take a step back, airborne #2 and I unsling our rifles while my buddy grabs his MG
>buddy shouts "drop that rifle and get the fuck on the ground, we're calling the sheriffs department"
>we all think he's a fucking inbred axe murderer or something
>airbome #2 is known for being a ballsy dude, makes a grab for his rifle
>suddenly he just isn't there
>scan right
>scan left
>he's six inches to my left, grinning at me
>cont

>his mouth looks like it grew two inches wider
>eyes are all red, like all of his blood vessels popped
>arms are hanging like six inches past the end of his uniform's sleeves
>dive backwards onto ground and fire a blank at him simultaneously
>flash blinds me for a fraction of a second
>work the bolt on my rifle furiously, about to fire another shot before I realize he's gone
>we all scan
>he's now in a bush about 10m to our 1:30
>all three of us light him up
>at this point, the other 6 guys in our unit are out of their tents
>"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING YOU GODDAMN- WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?"
>dude is hunched over, heaving like he's about to throw up
>bolts back up, lets out a guttural scream
>says, in what I can only compare to a mimicry of human speech "Aiiii'm gonna guuutttt youu, youu kraaaaut suuuns uvw bitcheees"
>everyone else scrambles for their guns and starts firing
>our sniper produces the .44 revolver he carries for bear defense
>fires a live round at the fucking thing as it just stands there
>it curls over from the impact, howls in pain, and dashes out into the bushes uphill to our right
>we all march over, weapons raised, to check if there's any blood
>no fucking blood
>our guy is adamant that he hit it
>we search around in the bushes, and eventually find the rifle and helmet it took from the real Tim
>find the bandoleer tom off a little farther up, with a bullet hole in it
>guttural screaming from what sounds like maybe 30m away
>we all fucking book it back to the campsite, just as the rest of the americans are arriving
>american sergeant walks up, fuming
>"Hey, thanks for fucking waking us all up with your drunken bullshit!"
>Tim Actual is there too, wrapped in a blanket and wearing someone's spare boots
>sergeant notices we're all pale as hell
>cools off a bit
>"You guys alright? You look a bit shaken up."
>describe situation to him as MG buddy breaks out his motorola microTAC and calls 911
>wait for sheriff to arrive
>cont

>form defensive perimeter and fix bayonets
>wait for sheriff to arrive
>we hear the sirens in the distance, sprint the full mile to where the road ends
>arrive with rifles slung and hands up
>three squad cars, five deputies plus the sheriff step out
>all are armed with shotguns
>get the feeling that this has happened before
>they politely ask us to unsling and put down our weapons
>we reluctantly comply
>they tell us that they'll escort us up to our camps, and that we need to take down our tents, pack up, and get out of the area immediately
>sheriff explains as we walk that they get a few calls like this every year
>the thing has never hurt anyone yet
>yet
>they've been trying to get the whole are closed off and clearcut
>forest service doesn't see shape-shifting murder demons as a good enough reason
>fuck the forest service
>get back to camp, pack up
>do the same at the american camp
>hear that same guttural scream, really fucking close
>sheriff and deputies start emptying shotguns towards the noise
>screams continue
>we all book it back to the cars/jeeps/kubelwagon
>hurl our gear into the cars, screams still coming closer
>start cars
>as we're turning around, headlight beams illuminate the thing fucking standing in the middle of the trail, twitching
>deputies lean out of their car windows and fire the rest of their ammo at it as we collectively get the hell out of dodge
>about two more miles down the road, sheriff signals for us to pull over
>explains the whole wendigo legend to us
>tells us "I’m not saying that that's what you saw up there, but if I were you, I wouldn't go back there if you gave me a million dollars."
>sagely advice
>me, buddy and our two other tagalongs stop in at a diner to get coffee and discuss
>we can figure out no rational explanation
>americans lost about $400-500 worth of gear up there
>drive home is uneventful, unable to sleep that night though
>never return to that godforsaken place, continue reenacting elsewhere