Lost Assassins

Just Dive Right in

Looking into their eyes he could saw death swirling around, but not his own. And they, even breathing possibly the last few breaths of their own life, were anchored down while their knees were brushing against ground and eyes frozen still. Totally submissive like breathing corpses and just wondering how....Just how? Seeing all that and beginning to question even their faith and ...the death itself. Just waiting for last blow, looking at each other. Face with blood dripping all over, even through eyes as tears used to, flowing and drying on the skin. One with a cut slash through the lower side of his left eye to the upper side of his right jaw and distorting the nose in between, began murmuring, some phrases in Sanskrit, maybe praying. He then turned toward others, opened his mouth and cried '' This ..this is not the en...."

SLASH

A swing and his upper and lower jaw disconnected, for forever. Sword just pierced through in a wink, effortlessly as rain through the air and with teeth and tongue intact, splitting his jaws all the way to the backside of his head. The upper head was just tossed on the ground. And the other two, even before that split head stopped, theirs' got split. A blow of sword hit angular on eyes and slashing all the way back. Next moment ground was dripping with blood all over, combing through cracks, tracing in streams and draining into the dirt. Mud squashed in red grabbed his shoes when he back stepped.

With swords in either hand, he stood there and just watch. Without even batting his eyes stared into all this. His eyes were icelike still, eyebrows stiffed a little yet seem relaxed. A sense of void was tingling into his heart. Finally this day was coming to its end; this realization dawned upon him, and after all that happened today, a breeze of peace just flows through his body and soul. Even the bones were softening as muscles were snoozing. He just dropped on his knees as his moist, sweaty with dirt-filled hairs dropped over his forehead. Face down, eyes closed, and shoulders relaxed, he breathes peace and just for a moment just stayed still there.

When the sun began to set on a far horizon and painted the sky red. He turned around and takes a deep breath. Even though his eyes were calm and still, his heart stiffened, and stomach began to tighten. A whole caravan was splattered there. A dozen bodies lying, either their throat cut through or severed all over, Carts dripping blood, weapons splattered all around and few injured horses. The scream of visual chaos mingling with vocals of death; disaster in whispers. How poetic, he thought.

One body had its head smashed through a cart's wheel, and one with a sword cutting through his head horizontally to its neck, and those who fought hard were most severed, with wounds of sword or combat were all over. Bodies were dropped all over the place, even above the carts. One corpse was just sitting in there with his back against the wall of the cart and a spear piercing the cart from outside and coming right through his neck.

Carts were empty, there weren't any supplies except some weapons and armors these soldiers were carrying with the flag of the sultan, a golden crescent moon inscribed on leaf green triangular cloth attached to nearly 7 feet wooden pole. Now dragged into the ground covered in blood and dirt, being just a shadow of its former glory. Once stood atop and dancing with the wind and flapping with arrogance, proclaiming everyone its power. Which was feared by the enemies and neighbor states, for it bears the wrath of Sultan himself with it. Now humiliated, dragged and all its might had just been doomed. It wasn't just a caravan, it was a cavalry of the state itself.

Vultures began to appear over there. Crows, rodent, and dogs picking and fighting over corpses, dragging intestines, gouging eyes out, and attacking those injured horses. The strange smell of moist dirt in Velvet red blood, of tender flesh and torned skin, swarming in the air, attracting them all.

Armeen stood up. Barely able to stand straight, he began to walk through all this. Carefully avoiding the corpses, trying not to step on them. He should respect the dead, or at least that's what he's taught. Once dead, everyone began one with the God, they always said that, again and again. He never was sure for most times. Armeen have had fairly amused by the dead, wondered about them. Whether they are seeing the glories of heaven, witnessing the wrath of hell or worst, just absolute annihilation, nothing but just simple death, end of life, just like that.