THIS DUDE'S NOTE (Can't really call myself an author)
First of all: I'm fucking sorry.
I've never, ever 'written' - As in, really written, not just a YouTube comment or an E-Mail - something in english before.
And for that matter, I haven't really written something in other languages either. If you choose to ignore the usual school essay stuff, that is.
In other words: Even if the story idea itself were to be good, this fanfiction would be a piece of trash.
But that's not the only problem. Thing is, the idea is garbage too.
It's pretty much 100% 'AU', with me only keeping the name and appearance of most characters, while not even accounting for any of their personal traits or even their gender. I could change a few things and suddenly I could be able to post this in any category. But I got the idea while watching AssClass and reading some fanfictions on here, so I'll just put it up anyway.
I'll try to improve my skills at least a little throughout this story, as this is its sole purpose (And the idea seemed cool in my head. Not anymore, though.)
Bear with me. And forgive me, please.
Regarding this chapter: It's so short that it can't even be called that. I just needed to put it up to remind myself of keeping to write something. To anyone who surprisingly still wants to see more of the story, I'll edit this a few times instead of posting new, equally short chapters. Soooorry Dx
Booming gunshots, sending aimless bringers of obliteration onto their destructive path.
Deafening explosions, littering the bright red tainted landscapes with dark and rugged holes.
Unforgiving cold steel, noisily tearing apart delicate skin as it ruthlessly penetrates body after body.
The last cries of souls getting harvested by the angelic scythe of death, soaked with trembling fear and burning hate alike.
Languishing tongues of fire, devouring whatever green spots could still have been existent.
Thus was painted the beautiful and despair-filled picture of sheer horror.
And thus was the sad reality of the war that should never have been.
The battle was lost before it even started. Crumbling like dried out sand sculptures, soldier after soldier fell. Some begged for mercy. But mercy wasn't shown. Some hid in the few remaining brushes of the once peaceful plains that had been turned into a wasteland of war. Too bad that they had to succomb in the hot flames of ruination along with those green carriers of life. Others tried to bite back, courageously standing their ground, wanting to keep every last inch of their hard-fought territory. Yet, the grim reaper knows no discrimination nor distinction. They all ended up equal, taken by the everlasting silence of death, while their drying blood slowly forms a crimson crust on these piles of rotting corpses.
The carnage ended as quickly as it had begun, and the quiet mourning of nature took over once again.
A lonely and crestfallen shack sat atop of the small hill after which the battle would be named, a mile away from the massacre that didn't reach the white blankets of snow covering the otherwise green elevation in the earth. In that shack could be found three frail humans, disarmed, injured and awaiting their death with grim faces. Four humans, for the huge bump being the woman's belly was hiding the steady movement of a delicate life yet to be born. Protecting the small wooden frame, usually used to access the shelter stood the begetter of the young life, ready to fight tooth and claw. An improvised spear in his hand, he played the waiting game with death. His true weapon he had given to the third man, the most beautiful shining dagger that could ever be seen. Wildly colored rarities entwingled together made up its handle, from which sprout the durable shining steel that saved so many lives. It was identical to another one, sheathed in the women's belt, which she was currently taking off to aid the maternal struggle of giving life. Together, the two weapons formed a pair just as unique as their usual wielders.
And while the woman proudly cradled the little thing with it's closed pupils in her arms for the first time, she was aware of her and her bethrothed's fate that lay ahead, knowledge only displayed by the sad smile gracing her face. Suddenly, the man tensed up, surprised by the otherwise so friendly sound of the crunching snow, messenger of death, that nobody expected to arrive so soon.
Taking the dagger and the child, clad in innocently white sheets and offered to him by the new mother, he accepted her last hushed orders, quickly leaving behind the wooden structure that was to be broken. Quickly leaving behind the two lifeless bodies of his companions, having joined eternal peace with their hundreds of comrades. In the father's chest was stuck a spear, his very own, while the mother's last movement was her head rolling on the floor, ending the bloodshed.
Thus was the end of the two heroes of war, who had sought peace for their people.
And thus was the birth of a new life, still unaware that those images her developing mind and shut-close eyes shouldn't even have registered were to unconsciously haunt her even years and years later.
(That misplaced last sentence tho) (For lack of better imagination, the 'enemy country' is called Kunugigaoka, and the 'good country' is called Japan. Because anime 'n' shit. And because I didn't really think this through.) (Oh, and because I used 'inches' :It just sounds so much better than centimeter.)(Someone got the Rammstein reference?) (I shouldnt be doing this at 3am)
Did I mention that I have no clue of what I'm doing right now instead of sleeping?
(Not to mention that I probably shouldn't even be on this site, me being a dude and all lol)
Usual disclaimer to state that I don't own the underlying fandom. But seriously, is there really anyone who would sue a fanfic?