A/N: I actually wrote this Zuko one-shot awhile back, but I'm just uploading it now. It's my first attempt at a fanfic, so I'm still trying to improve, but I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimers: I don't own ATLA, but it's a wonderful show, all credit to the creators of it.
Destruction
Destruction.
Is that all fire is? Is that all it can do? Tears rolled down his cheeks, splattering onto the ground like raindrops falling from the heavens. Kneeling on the blood soaked ground, Zuko lifted his head to face the destruction. Countless bodies laid sprawled on the ground. Dead bodies covering the once peaceful village. Now it lay in a sea of blood, with flames burning down all signs of life.
The horrible cries of the villagers reentered Zuko's thoughts. They had begged for their lives, pleading like filthy animals, throwing away their pride. They would have done anything to live. Mothers clutched their children, trying to shield them from the inevitable. Children cried. Men fought. The elderly prayed. And they all fell. Fire ate at them, burning their clothes, their skin, their faces. Screams of agony pierced the air, as everyone burned to death. The blood ran loose, pouring out onto the ground, the smell of death filled the air. That day was red.
Zuko recalled the horrifying scene. The men pleaded for the woman and children to be spared. And the women begged for the children to be spared. But did the killing stop? No. They were massacred, mercilessly.
Azula's words echoed in his mind. If you destroy that village, father will take you back with open arms. Your honor will be restored. Your life will return to normal, as it once was. Just kill them all. That's all you need to do, a simple task.
He rejected the offer at first, horror-stricken at the thought of killing innocent people.
But Azula remained persistent, and her harsh words cut through to him. What do you care? You don't know them. You've never met them. They're just strangers. This is the only chance you have of regaining your rightful place as Prince of the Firenation. Help me rid the world of this pathetic village that dares to defy our nation.
He finally accepted, pleased with the thought of regaining his birthright. How foolish he had been.
Zuko knelt amongst the debris, disgusted with himself. For being so selfish. He let himself drown in shame and guilt. His clothes reeked of death. His hands tainted in blood. His mind cried out in anguish.
A shadow bent over, shrouding him in darkness. And a delighted voice interrupted his thoughts, "Congratulations. You're the Prince again, and a ruthless murderer."
Smirking, Azula walked away, while a look of horror swept over Zuko's face as realization struck. He had become something horrible. A murderer.
Through trembling hands, Zuko clutched himself as if attempting to prevent his self from shattering like a fragile vase thrust upon the floor. Gently, he rocked back and forth, quietly mumbling a group of words over and over again for reassurance, "Azula always lies. Azula always lies. Azula always lies…"
But in his mind he knew the unavoidable truth.
I killed them all.