All credit's go to J.R.R Tolkien
Sigrid had last seen her family when they tried to flee the battle ground. She however, had been caught up in a terrifying battle between and elf and an Orc. she had desperately tried to run but with flying swords and arrows, she stayed put. She could only prey her family were okay!
Now she make her way through the battle field, screaming as she went. She suffered a few cuts and scratches but none as big and deadly as she were about to endure. She saw the Orc as bright as day light but failed to doge the flying sword encased in his frightful hand. Consequently the sword embedded itself in her shoulder.
A piercing pain spread through her blood, causing her body to tip sideways. As she screamed out she rolled over, dirtying the wound. Oh no, she thought as the pain spread like a woodland fire. It angered her body as she wailed and cried. Tenderly she placed her left hand over the wound only to find the sword sticking out of her shoulder. She grabbed the hilt and, screaming and wailing, she pulled the sword free from the wound. It clattered to the ground as the wound erupted into blood, she looked down and the sight of the red liquid made her eyes close, she has fainted, or so she thought.
A sick feeling spread through her soul as she shivered. Was this death? Was this black hole death? She wondered. The pain seemed to lessen but she could still hear the frightful sound of the battle and feel as people run past her dying body.
At first, the touch made her body go rigid and cold but then as the warm arms encase her body, she felt herself begging lifted, but too scared to open her eyes, encase it's an angle taking her to heaven. Then there was a smooth whisper in her ear.
"It's okay, I am here,"
I know this bit was a bit slow, but I promise it'll start to get more interesting!
