Tuesday, 10 December 2013

Battle Scars

Suddenly, even her body seemed to heavy for her frail bones. Blood pumping through the veins added only more pain to her already throbbing in pain limbs...
Her armor, all pierced and scratched, twisted and marked by the fire she had to run through - it weighted a ton, suffocating like a metal cage suffocates a claustrophobic. It squeezed her flesh, making the blood flow through the arrow holes that marked her back and shoulders, the right leg. But even so, she doesn't feel like taking it off, 'cause somehow, the weight of it, the feeling of being tightly held together was better than standing bare in the middle of nowhere, with the wind howling all around like wolves with sharp teeth digging in her already bruised and torn flesh.
And then, the sun started appearing somewhere at the horizon, throwing beads of light all around her, touching the ground and bouncing back in the air.
Blood. Blood everywhere: in pools and mud, on burned grass and on her own hands, in her long hair and on her lips. Rusty and some even already dry, it marked the place of a terrible battle. A battle with no wounded or dead but her, a mere silhouette that stood proud in the middle of it all and a woman nonetheless.
There was no winner or defeated for it was but a tired attempt to end everything, to put an end to all the struggle.
She was tired. Tired and sad, unsure of her own destiny. And as the sun rose higher on the winter blue sky, her fingers threw down the last match, feeding mighty flames with bloody grass and dirty ground. 
Yes, she stood there, watched everything from the sidelines as her armor sparkled gloriously in the frozen heat. 
Yes, she stood there, watched everything burn down to mere ashes, her long hair moving in the wind as her fingers grasped the leather straps that kept all that iron around her chest and limbs.
Yes, she stood there, no tear leaving her tired eyes - she had no more to cry.
Cold rushed to her side to bite on her heated skin through the thin shirt that covered her from the upper side of the body to mid-high of her thighs. Steeling teeth woke her to reality as a silhouette arose from the ashes.
"You might want to treat those," he spoke, no care in the world, mocking her scarred body.
"B-But I -"
"Set me on fire? Darling, I never felt more alive! You see, it can't be over until you tell me is over."
In a blink of an eye and he was back to her side, inhaling her skin, touching her cheek, crushing all her determination.
"I wish I never looked, I wish I never touched, I wish I'd stop loving you so much," she murmured against his palm.
"The just leave." It was a devil's order. And all armies of Hell arose at his command as fire mirrored in her eyes.
"It will never be over until you tell me is over."
Alpha.
Omega.
The beginning and the end.
A circle full of battle scars that were to never fade away 'cause she had dared go to war with love...

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