Post by wordy on Apr 1, 2009 17:45:16 GMT 10
Title: War
Rating: PG
Prompt: Colour
Summary: Faleron's POV during a battle scene. Because Faleron needs a lot more publicity.
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I can't find the courage to admit it to my friends, but I've finally become secure enough to admit it to myself. War is terrifying.
I've become accustomed to the blood, the constant danger, that tight feeling in your chest when you kill someone (thrusting straight through their stomach, skin squelching and ripping) and feel strangely superior, as if you've somehow 'won'.
There is one thing, however, that truly terrifies me about this inhumane game we play. Close your eyes. Can you see it? Not the sound of blood pounding through your tired body, nor the feeling of stones and human bodies being crunched under your horse's hooves. Can you see it? I can. And I can't escape it.
This is what I dream about, sometimes, when I'm alone. Or rather, this is what my nightmares are made of. I close my eyes, try to hold back the surge of sickness in my stomach, and suddenly, the colours are still there, they're all that I can see, flashing under my closed lids.
The dirty red of blood, staining a man's side.
The unnatural blue of the sky.
The ground, dark and muddy, as I slip from my horse.
The black hair of my Prince, too far away to reach.
The rustling greens, hiding archers and monsters.
The pale, pale white of my face after I retch and heave up the contents of my gut later that night, when I am once again alone.
Can you see it now?
Rating: PG
Prompt: Colour
Summary: Faleron's POV during a battle scene. Because Faleron needs a lot more publicity.
------
I can't find the courage to admit it to my friends, but I've finally become secure enough to admit it to myself. War is terrifying.
I've become accustomed to the blood, the constant danger, that tight feeling in your chest when you kill someone (thrusting straight through their stomach, skin squelching and ripping) and feel strangely superior, as if you've somehow 'won'.
There is one thing, however, that truly terrifies me about this inhumane game we play. Close your eyes. Can you see it? Not the sound of blood pounding through your tired body, nor the feeling of stones and human bodies being crunched under your horse's hooves. Can you see it? I can. And I can't escape it.
This is what I dream about, sometimes, when I'm alone. Or rather, this is what my nightmares are made of. I close my eyes, try to hold back the surge of sickness in my stomach, and suddenly, the colours are still there, they're all that I can see, flashing under my closed lids.
The dirty red of blood, staining a man's side.
The unnatural blue of the sky.
The ground, dark and muddy, as I slip from my horse.
The black hair of my Prince, too far away to reach.
The rustling greens, hiding archers and monsters.
The pale, pale white of my face after I retch and heave up the contents of my gut later that night, when I am once again alone.
Can you see it now?
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!