Battlescars [Tord X Reader]

Chapter 1

     Smoke stretched into the sky, wrapping around the night, trying to constrict all life around it. It was black, but it still stood out against the dark sky. Pure chaos ensued on the battlefield. Even though on different sides, all were terrified on the inside. 

     Past the cold exterior that their commanders told them to create, they were never more scared in their whole life. Loud crashing filled the air, it was anything but quiet on a night like this. The stars, nonexistent. Shrieks that could make even the most cold hearted of foes quiver. This was no squabble, it was war.

     The only light that was provided was the abrupt flashes of the automated guns. Bullets flying past one another. One man flew backwards, one of the hot bullets lodging into his rib cage. He laid there, on the ground for only a second before struggling to his feet. 

     More rounds were fired and his body shuddered as it hit the ground. The young man lay writhing in his own heated blood. He choked on it. Others ran past him, but it was so dark, he was trampled upon.

     Another man lost so quickly, but he would not be missed in this moment. The dead would be lost from the world for as long as this battle raged. Red splattered on the concrete walls of crumbling buildings. 

     The looming shadows of the buildings were menacing and petrifying. Most of these men never asked to be here, they were only there because they had people back home that they loved and these men were their last hope. Their last hope so they would not starve to death.

     There were groans on the broken streets. It was pitiful, their voices slowly dying with their being. No one knew or even wanted to know who was winning, this loss of life was never worth the torment that would follow. 

    The moonlight peeked through the billowing smoke. A man with fear in his eyes gripped his weapon, hiding behind a broken barricade. More bullets flew at it, making the man's spirit wither. He could hear his leader bellowing over the gunfire and explosions.

     "Hold position men!"

     The cowering man covered his ears, his gun slammed to his chest. He shook his head, while his body shivered as if the air was cold, but it was not cold. The air was thick and damp with the smell of blood. You could not take a single breath without having the scent of rust cling to your lungs.

     His instincts kicked in swiftly, the sound of heavy combat boots drowned out by the sound of his comrades dropping to the ground. He could not see where he was going. More flashes of artillery lit the streets for a moment. 

     The man's boot caught on something, causing him to tumble down. His hands landed in a pool of blood. What had caught his boot was another man's body, cold and still. His face was unrecognizable because of the darkness.

     The man attempted to regain himself. He felt around until his stained hand rested upon his gun. A bullet whizzed by, the man fell flat again onto the body. A large explosion boomed like thunder further up the street.

     Staggering to his feet, he knew this would be the perfect time to run, while both sides were preoccupied. His weighted boots kept him from fleeing post haste. The pitch black night was so thick that no one could see their own hand in front of their face. But a large fire set ablaze at the foot of a building guided his way. He passed many of his friends, they, unaware of his existence.