#battle grounds

No one talks about how hard it is. No one tells you about the ache you feel in your muscles. No one mentions the excruciating struggle you feel when your mind is forcing your limbs to move, your lungs to breathe and your heart to keep beating. No one remembers the difficulties; only the victories or failures.

 No one tells you, that in the midst of the battle, you will want to breakdown. That you will want to cover your ears to ward off the screams from people who once fought strong beside you. That you will wish the sight be rid from your eyes, that you may never again see the horrors of a true battle. No one tells you the burning you’ll feel in your nose from the smoke and from the stench of severed life.

 I shook my head and tried to focus. Survive, I tell myself, survive. My chest heaved and I tried to wipe the blood off my face but I only smeared it deeper into my pours. At the very least, I take comfort in knowing that it is not my blood. Tears pricked at my eyes and my lip quivered when another man catches my eye. 

 He is hideous. His beard grows wild and untamed. His eyes are sunken into his skull; not with age, I think, but with hate. He is drenched in the blood of those whom he has already slain and I can smell the arrogance from even this distance. He thinks himself so great. He believes me an easy opponent. He stalks towards me the way a beast would it’s prey.

 I am so tired and my heart aches for a respite; be it temporary or permanent. I want to drop my sword and walk away. To turn my back and let him end me; let him end the battle within me. But more than my life is at stake today, so, I tighten my grip and widen my stance. For them I will fight, for them I will win. I must return home.

 I mustered up all I had to give him the most hateful glance. It must have worked because he stopped in front of me. His head crooked to the side and the grin of death spread from dirty cheek to dirty cheek. 

 My soul shivered.

 "What be your name, girl?" His voice, like gravel, scratches my ears but it gives me some relief from the cries of agony that I hear in familiar voices. His fingers twitch around the hilt of his blade. He is eager for this. He lives for this. It will be his undoing. 

 I don't answer him. But I do spit onto the ground in front of his feet. He does not deserve to know my name. 

 His lip twitches into a grin and he advances. He doesn’t even hear the war around him. He only sees me; a quick victory, a won battle, a woman conquered.

 I clench my jaw and will the tears back. I hold my sword as if it were an extension of me; for today, that’s what it is. In these fleeting moments, I prepare myself for brutality and pain. I remove all distractions and narrow my eyes.

 Today will not be my last day. 

   But it will be his.

Just gonna use my forever tag list. Sorry if this is annoying because it’s not Marvel.