The child walk passed what used to be houses, the ground covered by their debris, no sight of ground to be seen. Not even under the bodies and blood.
The bodies..nothing but decaying carcasses for the ground to swallow up once they're done. The child stopped and stared, tears blurring his vision. The parents, the mother perhaps, was lying on her back her stomach ripped open to reveal her intestines,some hanging out at the sides, while her throat was twisted at a painful angle, killing her. The place where her face used to be, gone, the muscles could be seen and the now dried blood covered her neck and what little remained of her chest. The father, on the other hand, was laying on his front,his spine ripped showing his, now crushed, insides his small and large intestines where pulled to their extent, some parts of it where cut, showing the epithelial and the mucosa within. His rib cages broken, some caving inside, piercing his lungs in the process,letting him slowly drown in his blood, dying a slow and painful death. The girl, perhaps around the age of 5, had her legs spread open with dried blood on down her thighs and with slashed off arms, her blood spread around her like wings. Her clothing was ripped to shreds, obvious marks could be seen down her neck all the way to her chest. Kiss markings. No, death markings.
The child stared as he silently cried, his warm slated tears ran down his face.
He turned around and walked away, his thoughts repeating over and over again, ' Its not fair. Its not fair. Its not fair. Its not fair. Its not fair. Its not fair.' Over and over again it repeated in his head as hate and sadness filled his heart to the brim. 'Its not fair.'
YOU ARE READING
Innocence in cold blood
RandomIn a small village lived a kind hearted child who trusted in strangers,saw good in bad,who never complained no matter the situation. Yet on a faithful day, his village was attacked by the enemy. The village was burned to he ground, men, women and ch...
