Some people begin their stories once upon a time, in a time of myth and magic. Some people say it begins on one ordinary day, when suddenly... there was tragedy. And some people forego beginning entirely and just end it all over a cliff.
But my story begins with fire.
"Quickly! Get the women and children below deck! Men! Report to your battle stations immediately! The Fi- AAGH!" There was a wet gurgle, and the deck was stained as the lifeblood was beaten from him, beneath the heavy boots of the Fire Navy. The men in the crow's nest fired arrows, and the army set the rigging alight, and it crawled up the ropes with greedy golden fingers. The men above screamed, smoke and the stench of burnt flesh drifting down with the ashes, bloodcurdling cries chilling the sailors to the core. "Attack!" Gouts of fire blasted the braves across the floor, smoldering and screeching. They clawed at their own skin, trying to rid themselves of the flames that ate away at their lives. The hull and deck of the vessel were wood, sealed with whale blubber, and highly flammable. So their rolling and flailing agony in turn set about a chain reaction they were powerless to stop, as the women and children began to suffocate in the smoke-filled musty darkness.
The soldiers were everywhere, the fire was everywhere, the screaming of wood and throat alike echoing across the vast ocean. The trap door was ripped from it's hinges, Fire Navy soldiers flinging aside Water Tribe braves like dead cats. The swords flashed like their cold soulless eyes, deadly, unforgiving, merciless. They slashed aside the helpless swarm, defending hands slashed off and bodies flying and writhing, rather like cutting a bowl of noodles. It was sweat, blood, and white-eyed madness. Throats gaping and gushing across the remaining limbs of a young woman, as she dragged herself along the slippery red floors. Someone was desperately holding their innards, the grey-purple, pink, and red mass grasped in a shaking, liver-spotted hand, until her head thudded to the floor. The body, guts and all, fell across the other woman dragging herself, and a wet squelch blanketed her in a slimy, throbbing mass. She cried out in disgust and terror, the two bleeding stumps that were once her legs twitching violently. Screams resonated in her skull, the scent of blood and bile, ash and burning flesh filled her nose, flames singed and flicked around her remaining eye, and she tasted vomit in the back of her throat. Trapped beneath a mass of her great-grandmother's intestines and various other organs, she could only watch in horror as the massacre unfolded. Her entire family was being slaughtered, and she was bleeding to death.
In her stomach, she felt two tiny kicks.
"Little one... what is happening to this world..." she wheezed shakily, clawing at the wood for release. Her eyes widened. "Not now. Please no."
As the first contractions washed over her, her screams rang throughout the night of blood and flame.
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(A/N) Please R&R, and also comment on the rating. I don't expect more gore of this level, however it is very possible, what with the plot I have in mind. And don't worry... the plot isn't slit-your-wrists depressing. More like "WHY?!" depressing, if that makes any sense.