Short stories

IV

TW: Mention of blood and death

Rain pelted down, beating the ground with each drop. There they stood in all their glory. Soaking wet with no one else to witness their victory. Their hair clinging to their face as the water ran down onto their clothes. The once flowing cape stuck to them, heavy with the blood of their enemies and the tears of the heavens. With heaving breaths, they stood tall, their head held high. They looked over the sea of bodies strewn about. Some misshapen while others looked as though they were sleeping peacefully and able to wake at any given moment. A blood-stained sword rest at their side, small droplets still running off. Surveying the bloodied field before them, the realization of what they had done set in. Another town taken by their cruel hand. Families, friends, a community filled with light and love destroyed in mere minutes. This is what the gods wanted, wasn't it? It's what they asked for, right? To erase this wretched place and rid it of its evil. Yet, they knew that was wrong. They had done this. All of this. They had asked for blood and blood they were given. Whether it was Gods or Demons, they demanded chaos. They demanded destruction. The voices were relentless. So, they got what they wanted. They always do. With yet another burden set upon their shoulders, they sheathed their sword and started their journey once more. Walking by the bodies of a once quiet town, they kept their eyes forward on the path ahead not daring to look back, for if they did it may just undo them.

Notes:
This story was inspired by And We Walk After by Trevor Kowalski. I wrote this months ago in a Starbucks during my free period