Something I pulled from the air one night when I was feeling particularly existential. This is a prime example of me describing everything too much.
As always; my apologies for my writing.
The shadows were long, tall rocky outcrops helped cast otherworldly forms. The dusky desert sun painted everything in an orange glow that contrasted strikingly with the deepening blue sky. From the roof of the base the view was spectacular. The light and dark made the few spots of greenery striking. It was the very definition of an ethereal beauty.
Pity there was destruction within it.
Bodies laid scattered over the landscape, broken torn and bleeding, even though the hearts had stopped pumping blood. The sand was soaked with iron-red life. Half of a Demo laid two feet away from the scraps of an Engineer and his nest. The severed hand still clenched the wrench that could have saved him, but failed. All around, death. Horrible unimaginable death.
Ragged gasps came from behind a rocky outcrop. Wheezing filled with blood and the struggle to fill lungs with oxygen. Amidst the carnage two bodies moved. Hot mouths mashed together and blood-slick lips slipped over each other. One had a fatal gash in his stomach; the other was covered in burns over his arms and back. They were both close to death, but in this moment they were alive. They rutted and gasped and moved against each other, rushing to that moment of completion before they both died.
They were men. They were enemies. They were fighting man against man to achieve an objected they didn't even believe in. But in this moment they were two human beings alive. A few more movements and they saw white and they saw black. And in each other's arms they kissed and shared each other's dying breath.
Their bodies were just two more among dozens.
Tomorrow they would fight again.
