Blood.
It was everywhere, like an infection of rashes, staining wherever it could reach. My face, my hands, my armour. It covered my axe, turning the shining silver into a rusty red. It spilled out from hundreds of discarded bodies strewn across the ground like sewer water from holes in a pipe. It covered the battlefield, the crimson soaking into the dry soil that absorbed it hungrily.
The scent of death hung heavily in the air, the screams of soldiers as they fell victim to the enemy echoed across the battlefield, the roars of the clashes of swords seemed to shake the very earth.
My vision is tinted red, I wonder if it is from all the bloodlust around me. There is no time to dwell upon the thought now, as another wave of enemy soldiers wash upon us. My ears are ringing from the screams of dying people, they fell so easily, a well aimed slash or stab and their skin ripped apart for my sword like a knife through butter. There is a bitter taste in my mouth that doesn't leave no matter how many times I swallow, I wonder why it appears every time I start killing.
I slashed and stabbed, ducked and kicked. And in the midst of it all, the roaring chaos of my minds as it screamed at me to kill kill kill, I wondered why. Why am I killing these people? They never did anything to me.
My sword slows, and my movements turned confused, sluggish. That's right. Why am I doing this? Why am I killing?
The King commands you to, the shadows in my head hiss at me, and you obey the King. Remember, you are his puppet, his dog.
You do what he commands.
But they never did anything to me, I protest.
They never did you harm?, the shadows mocked, Look, aren't they trying to kill you?
Kill, the shadows command.
I don't want to, I struggled to not give in, stop it, stop stop sTOP
Kill, the shadows command, even as I tried in vain to push them away.
NO, I struggled and screamed within my own mind, losing to my own insanity, but it was too late: the bloodlust was already creeping into my mind, invading even corner and crevice and I stopped resisting and gave in.
Kill, the shadows commanded again.
And so I kill.
My sword flew through the air, cutting down all that stood in it's way, even as the tiny part of protested and was quickly squashed down by the shadows. Kill them all.
It was all just a dance. A beautiful, elegant dance of death. Each time I killed, their blood splattered on me, until I was soaked in blood. From head to toe, covered in the life that I ripped away from others.
The shadows screamed in glee, and I felt a maniacal grin form on my face. Killing was so fun after all, you were in control, you decided who lives and who dies.
That's right, they shriek in my head, You, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, personification of Spain, are a weapon. The edge of the sword. You are the bringer of death.
It wasn't until the last of the screams died away, the roars and clashes replaced by dead silence that I realized that, indeed, it was dead silent. Because everyone was dead. And I looked down at them, their bodies a pile of blood and death. Just more victims of mine.
Another bunch of faces to add to the thousands of faces belonging to the people I had slaughtered over the years.
Then I turned and walked away.
You are a mindless killing machine.
I am a mindless killing machine.
You are the bringer of the death.
I am the bringer of the death.
You are the edge of the sword.
I am the edge of the sword.
My name is Antonio Fernández Carriedo.
And I am a weapon.
Above me, the sky turned dark, clouds overhead gathered and rain began to fall. The fat droplets of water washed away the blood covering me, a stain at a time. Just like I killed my enemies one at a time.
I looked at the ground, where the blood had seeped in. One day, from there sprouts of fresh green would emerge from the death-soaked soil, death would be replaced by life. After all, it was just one huge cycle. Maybe there was hope for me after all.
And slowly, I began to smile. Even as the muscles in my face strained and struggled, the only grin I ever formed was when I killed after all, and that was only when I started losing the grip on my sanity.
No matter how bloody and broken you feel, someone once told me, on the outside you smile.
As bright as the shining sun.
So I smiled as I walked away from my bloody past, leaving my nightmares behind.
One day I would be free from the hungry clutches of my own shadows and the greedy fingers of my King.
And I hoped that when that one day came, the smile would be real.