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Battle of Bezzant's Pass
Death is upon us. The fort can no longer sustain the fire coming from the enemy forces. Shot after shot, the snow balls detonate their cold charges whenever they plunge into the side of the fort. No longer able to sustain fire, the left inner wall erodes into oblivion. Our flank is immediately exposed, and that's when the assault commences. Snowballs come from every corner – my team is back against the fort wall. After hours of fighting, we will finally fall. Snowballs are falling closer and closer until one pelts me in the face. I taste the cold on my cheek and feel the mucus running down the top of my lip. I stare death in face. The entire battle begins to flash before my eyes.
I watched as they entered: a burly boy by the name of Nate, a Samoan with jet black hair in a buzz cut, stepped through the obliterated wall first. Next came a boy, Justin, about half his height with short messy blond hair; he yipped excitedly knowing they had earned victory. They spent the last two hours expunging our front lines. My entire squad had fallen to the wrath of these two monsters. The more monstrous one, a barbarian that could hurl a snowball at no less than 100 mph; the dwarfish one could hit a target from 100 feet away with baleful precision.
My companion, Brandon, and I had led an expedition earlier in the battle to take their main base. It was heavily guarded, but that was no match for the speed with which we turned out the balls of powdered ice. Their fort crumpled promptly and their team fell into disarray; we took out four with quick shots to the chest and another with several chunks between the eyes. Now only two remained; and when they turned to us, fear struck our hearts and cold suddenly forced its way into every fold of our protective clothing.
I looked at Brandon and mouthed, “Let's do this.”
Brandon was a little over average sized and had the same messy mop as their paltry weapon, Justin. Brandon led the team with great fervor. I looked back at the two weapons and then back at Brandon, who had began a full sprint. I knew we could've taken them – they didn't look too tough from that point, maybe a little foreboding and murderous, but I was confident in my companion and myself.
A second later I realized that he wasn't running from the enemies themselves, but from the barrage of snowballs headed our way. I was stricken with trepidation. I felt as if my feet were frozen to the chilled surface of the ground.
Suddenly, I was struck with a force, causing me to crash to the ground two feet away from my position. Four virulent snowballs plowed into my original position, but the artillery fire didn't hit the ground.
Laying in the spot I had just previously been thrown from was a black lump. I could barely make out the insignia on his right arm – which was drenched in snow – indicating he was on my team. Mollified, I scrambled to his location and turned over the lifeless body. It was my companion. He tried to sputter something out, but had been stricken too hard and could barely move his lethargic lips. For a moment I returned to reality and saw the two enemies preparing to launch another assault. I had only minutes to return Brandon to our base to revive him. I lifted his body off the ground and ran for cover.
Under the cover of an exhausted wall of snow, I set down my partner and radioed for some back-up; although it was feeble cover and would only withstand a few more hits.
“BOOM!” a snowball hammered the other side of the wall with such potency the wall began to topple. The wall tilted forward on top of us and buried us in snow. No doubt the enemy was upon us and I had no idea where my team was located. I was as good as dead, until a light burst forth through the snow revealing an extended hand. Reluctant, not trusting where it came from, I steadily grabbed the hand. I was pulled free and cast my gaze upon my team. The enemy had pulled back and was nowhere to be seen.
Lifting my companion out of his snowy grave, I commanded my team to push forward and take the enemy's inner base while I took my companion to be revived. I finally reached my base and dropped to the ground under the weight I carried. The medic took the load. My companion was taken for about a minute before I was able to see him. I walked into the walled off area that was designated as the hospital – small for just two people. Brandon awoke with a grateful expression.
Screams pierced the silence. Brandon and I climbed to the lookout tower and saw our entire team lying across an empty expanse of snow. Our hearts sank. I could see a hint of insanity in Brandon's eyes and I could taste it in myself. We knew that we had to avenge our team, but no sane person would try. We set out searching for the deadly enemy that lay ahead of us.
The two elite soldiers that we were up against were lost in the desolate wasteland. Suddenly, a snow ball exploded through a torn down wall and nearly liberated my head. We make a rabid dash for our base, closing any entrances, we waited for the death that was sure to come.
A pain stabbed me out of my memory. I lied on the ground waiting for death to take me. Cold was the floor I was strewn upon and my vision dimmed. With a last dying effort I pulled up my arm and created the perfect snowball. With blurred vision and weakened arms I somehow managed to get the ball out of my hands and into the bloodthirsty eyes of my murderer. He plummeted to the crystallized ground and before my vision failed I watched his face hit the snow.
I awake – after what seems like hours – in a bed with hot chocolate laying by my side. I take a sip and notice all my friends are conversing in the living room. I pull myself up and stumble my way in. I see Brandon, along with Nate and Justin, in the room with my team of ruffians, and the enemy team as well. Overall there are about 13 of us. Most have to leave when I arrive; leaving just the elites and my companion.
“Nice battle out there,” I manage to get out.
“Yeah, but next time no cheating,” Nate shoots back.
“Dude, if anyone cheated it was you,” replies Brandon.
I sit down and we continue to joke. We may have all killed each other, but what does that matter among friends.