Flames & Blood

January 4, 2012
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This is the story of a battle.

Monsters once covered the world in a black lens devouring everything and everyone. There were those who crossed the lines and followed the paths that led into a pit of self-destruction, but as they fell into the furnace of destruction their souls burst into flames and burnt the monster's hands. They were known as daggers the outcasts who fought their oppression till their rebellion led to their on destruction. The war didn't solve much and every day the Monsters grew in their numbers a mob of order and the dagger's edges cut too many hands and became dull and they fell into the monsters' grasps. The daggers lost this battle, but the monster's lust for war led the world into a war like nothing else and that is how the battle began.

Plains of smoke were all that was left the spilled dagger's furnaces had scorched the earth clean. Their boots walked in precision each heel and toe meeting the ground at the exact moment while their enemies foot rose as they fell in in versed clockwork. Creatures of red walked from the east like the rising sun their bloodshot eyes growing dark as the day fell and they were sent to feed while beasts of black marched their faceless formless bodies changing to fit the circumstance becoming what was needed most. The field where they met was blank besides the crumpled tombstones and frames of a church lost long ago in a battle no one had seen besides those who were five feet under.
Barbed blades and muskets of rusted steel were drawn as the monsters clashed filling the air with the inhuman screams of those who had once been innocent children fit to decided their dreams to have them dashed away by some weak remnant of a human being. Blood of black and red spilled across the plain soaking the tombstones making the earth shake in unholy rage and then it rose. A beautiful light that sliced through the overcast skies and let the sun down on the monsters revealing men, women, and children. They all had dreams some were artists, lovers, musicians, dreamers, writers, creators, but they let the monsters rip them apart and devour them whole. As the light parted a girl appeared no older than five her blond hair in pigtails and a blood-soaked white dress became clean as the beam retracted into her grey eyes. A teddy bear held in her hand as she cried out for her mother or any comfort at all, but the monster's masks pulled back and they charged.
The girl screamed at them to stop, "Please not me let me go please..." but they didn't stop they grabbed her throwing her against the ground ripping the skin on her elbows as her bear fell into a muddy puddle of bloody earth. They hadn't tasted blood for years and the monsters came together ripping the girl's hair from her head swallowing the pure terror. She clawed at the ground as she was drug across the ground her dress torn and tattered. And as she cried there was no one to comfort her all the humans had been absorbed in their greed and their lust becoming shells of souls. Her last sight was the beautiful face of a woman her monstrous red mask disappearing for a mere second before her throat was dug out and her entrails were used to make bloody scarfs for the monsters to inhale the dying scent. They had lost themselves and even the innocent were just another meal for their empty cores.
Now, before you brush this off think of this are you becoming a monster. Using the weakness of others pushing yourself up and letting greed and envy paint your faces in the dull colors of monsters. Don't be a monster let yourself be you and don't let yourself be the mainstream human be whoever you are. Be true to yourself and don't slaughter the innocent because our differences make us our own unique slide of a kaleidoscope each different than the one a degree to its right





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