Status: Complete ♥
Freed From War
1/1
Standing at the mouth of hell on that mild Autumn evening, the soldier felt his heart hammering against his chest and observed the deadlands that stretched for miles before him. Darkness had just begun to fall and a thick veil of mist crawled in, enrobing everything in its path.
A patrol had been sent to scout ahead, but nothing had been heard and the soldier could only assume that they were dead. As the thought entered his mind, a scream could be heard in the distance and his squad tensed as five more followed.
Six blood-curdling screams... one from the mouth of each scout patrol member and then silence. Fear. Grief. Anticipation for what was to come. A soldier was supposed to be brave in the face of death, but he had heard stories about the deadlands and they were playing out in front of his very eyes.
Looking to his commanding officer for orders, the signal was given to advance and the soldier took his first steps into the unknown. The mist parted as rubber met soil, reforming close to his body and creating the effect of overcrowding.
Unable to see much of anything, he removed his sword with a trembling hand and pulls power from the blade he now carries aloft. The weight is a constant reminder that he's not as defenseless as he suddenly feels and although blind to their positions, his comrades were not far away.
Hearing the sound of movement somewhere in front of him, the soldier tightens his grip on the hilt of his weapon and swallows nervously as he continues onwards. Stories were told of immortal soldiers, soulless and evil to the very core of their existence, who wander lost amongst the mist. Some believe that they are the vengeful spirits of fallen soldiers looking to punish those who trespass on their unmarked graves... either was plausible and sent chills of terror down the soldier's spine.
A flash of silver was the only warning the soldier got, before a blade was thrust deep into his stomach and he fell to his knees. His killer stared down at him with void eyes, tilting its head slightly as the soldier took a deep, shaky breath and uttered four final words.
"I am finally free."
You see, the soldier had never wanted to fight in the war and death meant that he wouldn't have too. In the end, he gained the freedom that he desired, but the price was heavy and the consequences were tragic. Perhaps his life would have been different had the war never started, or maybe the war was already written in the stars. Nobody knows what the future will hold for the kingdom that had once been an enslaved man's heart, but that soldier will live on through history and people will read about a brave warrior who died fighting for what he believed in.
A patrol had been sent to scout ahead, but nothing had been heard and the soldier could only assume that they were dead. As the thought entered his mind, a scream could be heard in the distance and his squad tensed as five more followed.
Six blood-curdling screams... one from the mouth of each scout patrol member and then silence. Fear. Grief. Anticipation for what was to come. A soldier was supposed to be brave in the face of death, but he had heard stories about the deadlands and they were playing out in front of his very eyes.
Looking to his commanding officer for orders, the signal was given to advance and the soldier took his first steps into the unknown. The mist parted as rubber met soil, reforming close to his body and creating the effect of overcrowding.
Unable to see much of anything, he removed his sword with a trembling hand and pulls power from the blade he now carries aloft. The weight is a constant reminder that he's not as defenseless as he suddenly feels and although blind to their positions, his comrades were not far away.
Hearing the sound of movement somewhere in front of him, the soldier tightens his grip on the hilt of his weapon and swallows nervously as he continues onwards. Stories were told of immortal soldiers, soulless and evil to the very core of their existence, who wander lost amongst the mist. Some believe that they are the vengeful spirits of fallen soldiers looking to punish those who trespass on their unmarked graves... either was plausible and sent chills of terror down the soldier's spine.
A flash of silver was the only warning the soldier got, before a blade was thrust deep into his stomach and he fell to his knees. His killer stared down at him with void eyes, tilting its head slightly as the soldier took a deep, shaky breath and uttered four final words.
"I am finally free."
You see, the soldier had never wanted to fight in the war and death meant that he wouldn't have too. In the end, he gained the freedom that he desired, but the price was heavy and the consequences were tragic. Perhaps his life would have been different had the war never started, or maybe the war was already written in the stars. Nobody knows what the future will hold for the kingdom that had once been an enslaved man's heart, but that soldier will live on through history and people will read about a brave warrior who died fighting for what he believed in.
♠ ♠ ♠
Just some free writing I did for a comp on here...