A Last Course for War

March 16, 2012
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His face flushed from the battle that just ceased. His sword covered with wet blood. His
legs had given out and his arms sore from sword battles with the enemy. He took off his battered
helmet, and his long hair spilled out as the metal helmet dropped to the blood stained grass.
Thousands of bodies lay on the ground as the cool autumn air swept through the lines of men.
Soldiers walked in the distance through the battered enemy soldiers stabbing anyone who
was at death’s door. Soft cries rang out and then silence. It continued for a few short minutes, but
the soldier that was weakened through the battle could hear their cries for hours. The sound of a
man or young boy cry out in agony as a six foot blade pierced the tortured body. The moans of
agony were silenced away by one swift motion and the groans turned into cries of mercy, which
silenced in seconds.
Then a loud cry of a thousand voices sprung from the tree lines. The soldiers that stood in
the open on the blood stained grass plains drew their swords and paused for a moment as they
waited what opposite to them.
After a swift breezy air flew through the open plains a crowd of soldiers poured out from
the tree lines and marched forward to the men that stood in the plains. The soldier tried to stand
on his feet, but his legs ached with irritation. A man ran behind him and got him to his feet. The
solider drew his sword and the men in the plains gave a battle cry. The advancing enemy gave
one back and both armies began to aggressively sprint onwards at each other. In the soldier’s
mind time slowed down and he could hear everyone’s heartbeat, but his own. Everyone ran
slothful way at each other. The soldier could see the numbers of people grow closer and closer to
each other.

Then timed relapsed and the surge of soldiers crashed into each other. Sounds of swords
colliding into each other echoed through the plains. Birds flew away from tree tops and the
sounds of
swords and men dying ceased once more on the field of battle.
The enemy soldiers crowded around the soldier that was tired and weary. The enemy
soldiers kept pouring out of the forest. The weary soldier looked around and saw that all of his
comrades had deceased by the enemies’ sword. The soldier dropped to his tiresome knees and
dropped his blood stained sword on the dry green grass. His mouth was dry since days’ time; his
stomach ached with pain, and his body twinge when he muscle he moved.

The enemy army commander walks up to the dirty soldier and kicks away his sword. The
commander then said, “Any last words traitor.” The commander looked down at the quiet soldier
and waited for an answer, but no answer was spoken. Then the soldier looked up at the
commander and spoke softly. The commander then said, “Excuse me?” The soldier kept
speaking softly, so the commander drew closer to him and the soldier said, “Don’t look up!”
Then the sky blackened and the sound of buzzing filled the air.

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