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They walked into the haze of the battle field. Silent; still. Walking through the flowing field of amber, watching it breath in and out, sighing with the wind. Guns cocked at the ready. In a split second, fire broke out from the other end, breaking their attention from the mountain’s sunset. They jumped into the cover of a near by tree. Her partner had been shot from the surprise attack. She looked over to he comrade, doubled over in pain. She quickly laid him against a boulder while prepping a medical kit. Shots fired again in their direction, only to be retorted by her gunfire.
“Hold on! You’re gunna’ make it!” she screamed as she fired into the main attack. “Damn it!” she cussed under her breath. She started to reload while holding the blood-drenched cloth still on her friend’s body. He hadn’t moved… His hand had gone limp. Slowly she looked up, eyes filled with disbelief, into the eyes of her fallen colleague. Everything stopped. As if jarred from reality. She didn’t move, just stared off.
A shot whistled by, chipping her shoulder and the rock where her friend laid limp. She fell, disgruntled in pain, gripping her arm. Tears swelling, still staring at him. It was excruciating, not just the shot, but the loss of her only reason… only friend… only purpose… gone, in a split second…
From that day on, her eyes would always show the past, full of knowledge from the sick happening. But, she wouldn’t stay long enough to show you the tortured, sad, soul inside, filled with solemnity and almost emptiness. Sorrow would always loom in them along with the pain and depression.
After laying there gripping her side she threw up, in the sick stench of death. She took the pain and emotion and everything else, and she threw herself into battle. Killing in a blind fury and rage, nobody – no nothing – stopped her. Not bullets, not knives, not fists, tanks, grenades. Killing and more killing, she was what she set out to destroy.
There is no peace without war, but this was sheer madness. But, the officers didn’t care. The only thing they did was make sure to steer clear while she killed them, mercilessly…
That day she killed at least one person with every bullet. When she ran out, she stabbed every one of them. When the blade got corroded by blood so much it broke off, she beat every, last one…
War changes blood from crimson to black,
you won't be the same... if you come back.
- by XxChimichangaxX |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 10/02/2008 |
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![](https://graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/arena-images/ic_paper_corner_32x32.gif)
- Title: Crimson to Black
- Artist: XxChimichangaxX
- Description: an excert from the full story for my "so called poem"
- Date: 10/02/2008
- Tags: crimson black
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Comments (3 Comments)
- XxChimichangaxX - 11/18/2008
- ty
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- XxChimichangaxX - 10/02/2008
- it's ok ppl, u can comment, i don't bite... hard lolz jk
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- SimpleHero - 10/02/2008
- I really liked it.
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