Five-Minute fiction - 00:27-00:32
Lightning split the sky casting back the gathering darkness to illuminate the windswept and rain-battered field. Bodies lay strewn, hacked, torn, broken, blood, and brains, bile scattered throughout. Harken lay in the grass, the cool rain lancing down on his face like arrows of cold awakening. The rain carried the blood from his face, washed the revulsion, turned the scarred and embattled face to the soft, fleshy face of a young boy. A boy untested, unbroken, unmarked by war. He opened his eyes, the piercing blue of the irises the same dazzling brightness as the lightning as it struck the sky again.
Others came. Entombers, enshrouders, embalmers, the dead men, the men of the after. They stole what life was left, what future there could be but Harken still lived and he could not stay. For they would take his life
Lightning split the sky casting back the gathering darkness to illuminate the windswept and rain-battered field. Bodies lay strewn, hacked, torn, broken, blood, and brains, bile scattered throughout. Harken lay in the grass, the cool rain lancing down on his face like arrows of cold awakening. The rain carried the blood from his face, washed the revulsion, turned the scarred and embattled face to the soft, fleshy face of a young boy. A boy untested, unbroken, unmarked by war. He opened his eyes, the piercing blue of the irises the same dazzling brightness as the lightning as it struck the sky again.
Others came. Entombers, enshrouders, embalmers, the dead men, the men of the after. They stole what life was left, what future there could be but Harken still lived and he could not stay. For they would take his life