The sound of two sword clashing, and the panting and grunting of two men echoed through the drops of rain that fell from the sky. The heavens were crying for them, telling them to stop fighting. But this battle had to be won.
Too many years had he suffered because of he had lost. Too many years had he been looking for the one who made him suffer. Too many years had he blamed someone else for killing those he loved. Too many years had he silently cried because he felt lonely and weak.
But now it would end. And with that new boost of courage, the man managed to kick his enemy in his stomach, and punch him to the ground with the handle of his sword. A cry of pain rang through his ears when he watched the man fall. He hardly noticed his enemy had cut his cheek with his blade as it flew from his cold hands.
A sword made of steel, raised high into the air. Eyes like rubies, stare at the enemy that is now lying beneath him on the cold and wet ground. His crimson hair, wet from the rain, stuck to his forehead. The man below him tries to get back up, he's trying to speak. But before he could speak, the sword was lowered into his chest, and his eyes lost their spark of life.
Blood dripped down his cheek, as he stared at the corpse on the ground. The rain would not stop pouring down from the skies. It seemed as if the heavens were still not satisfied with what he had finally accomplished.
He dropped the sword on the floor; he was excited, but also scared. He had finally managed to get his revenge on the one who had killed his parents. It had been his goal ever since the attack. But now that he had accomplished this, what was he to do? He had no goals, he had no dreams; He felt empty.
The blood from his cheek reached his chin, and the red liquid mixed itself with the rain that fell from the heavens. He brought his hand to his cheek, wiping the blood away. For a moment he stared at the blood that was now on his hand. The color was slowly fading, as more water from the rain mixed itself with the red. But the red never faded completely from his palm.
Red is a powerful color. It possesses many meanings and is capable of changing one's feelings. Red is also anger, red is bold. It is the power inside you that wishes to break free from its prison. It can be dangerous and exciting.
But red can also be warm, red can be hot; It can be desired, and wanted. Red is passionate, red is strong. Red is the color that represents courage, and yet, as he stared at his own blood, he had not found any courage. Warmth didn't overcome him, and he felt like all energy was being sucked out of his body.
For a moment, his strength, his speed and his passion had completely disappeared. But then he heard a familiar voice, shouting from far behind. The voice made him turn around; his hand dropped down, causing the blood and the water that had been trapped in his palm, to fall on the ground.
He watched the relieved expression of his only friend. That friend was the one who seemed to never leave his side. It made him realize he wasn't as alone as he thought he was. Breathing in deeply once, he ran a hand through his crimson hair and a slight smile played on his lips. Suddenly it was as if his courage came back, and his cold body became warm again.
He realized that he was lucky for having a friend like his; He realized that he could now find happiness.