My first fanfic. One shot. Critique or something eh eh?
Resolve to Death:
Just as dawn breaks and the first beams of the morning break over the horizon, lighting the blood-drenched ground, people scramble to find a place—any place—to hide, to curl up, to cry and weep and stare with blank eyes as death approached, carried upon black wings and hidden behind a pearl white mask. Yet, one stood staring past the corpses and ruined buildings toward the advancing destruction.
For a moment, a fraction of a second, he feels afraid. He can feel the power from here, tangible, like clammy claws reaching out, ready to wring his neck like a sponge. He doubts himself, his training, his whole purpose.
Did I train hard enough?
Did I perfect the right skills?
Am I strong enough?
Am I smart enough?
Am I fast enough?
Will I die?
Then the smells of destruction—decay, blood, and fear—slam into his senses, and he remembers. He remembers all the lives lost, the mentors, friends and family taking blow after blow, only to fall into the gentle clutches of death. When greater men have fought, struggled, suffered, and fallen before him, it is terribly rude to flee now. His shoulders square, his eyes focus, his fingers twitch.
(Don't fire…)
He draws his arund...cocks his arrow,
(until you see…)
centers on the dim glow of amber eyes.
(the whites of their eyes)
"Strafe."
Sucks right? My grammar sucks...Review.
