Can you feel the blood?

Prologue

The fields of red and white were still. The wind was non-existent, although that was probably a good thing. These fields were plowed, however, they are not flowers.

Blood, bone, blood, bone, flesh. It was not daisies that waved in the still air. Rather, wings; wings of pure white with pretty small feathers. They danced in the wind with childlike glee. No field, however, is complete without roses. No garden is without the pretty red flowers. There alongside and inside of the white laid red. It flowed alongside and within the masses.

This garden could be considered beautiful to some, or rather, the mentally insane.


This was no garden I realized with a start.

Gazing out, all anyone would be able to see for about a mile is bodies. Bodies of angels, devils, and my own kin. My kin, humans blessed with mighty armor, holy weapons, and indomitable strength. From the heavens, we'd ridden alongside angels.

Those angels laid beneath my armored feet, dead. Looking at the sky I pondered the meaning behind this all. This battle, this war, this savagery. Letting my eyes wander back towards the ground I let them fall upon one lone angel and devil. The devil in question laid upon the angel's spear, dead. However the angel also died soon after, one of her wings ripped from her back.

Everything hurt, everything. My body spasms before seizing up as I slowly fall back to the ground. I imagine losing an arm would do that to someone.

Using my remaining hand I slowly unbuckle the thick metal helmet on my head and slide it off. Immediately the stench of death hits me, but the light breeze feels amazing. Letting the helmet roll off to the side I lay there, unmoving. I'd die in a minute or two, as blessed as I am I'm still human.

A dry chuckle slips past my lips as I begin to slip into unconsciousness. There was no such thing as winning here it seemed. I begin to slip further into the depths of my mind as my vision darkens.

.

.

.

Something, something is there, in the sky. I can hear it. It draws nearer, dragging golden rays with it. It is majestic, otherworldly. It is, something I've come to know well. Angels, reinforcements or rather, the cleanup party I'd assume.

My hope is bolstered and with every ounce of strength still left within me I slowly tap the back of my right gauntlet on my helmet. A high pitched ding is heard with each tap. As the light and the sound of bells draw nearer my tapping increases in force ever so slightly.

The light finally touches the ground and the contents within are visible. A woman, a beautiful woman I correct myself. Her face shows nothing but desperation as she gazes out over the broken battlefield. However, her eyes quickly lock onto me, or rather, my gauntleted hand as my taps begin to slow down.

Her eyes shine ever so slightly as she quickly rushes over to my body. Looking down at me she begins to speak, but my hearing alongside my consciousness began to quickly fade with the last of my strength.


Authors note: tried my best and for one of my first stories on here It isn't too shabby. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.