Date: 12-15-2023
Tags: The Mistress of War
Every step forward invited a cascade of blood to gush from the wound above his hip.
Robbed of the privilege of his dying thoughts, his mind far too engrossed in the horror that he witnessed. No, it was not the mortal wound he bears. No, it was not the bodies of his comrades, scattered and twisted like folded paper across the shattered road. No, it was not the mound of gore that lay in front of him, with flesh and meat too marred for anyone to believe it came from a corpse. It was the wicked feast unfolding in front of him. A monolith of meat and metal squatted and hunched over. A sickening crunching noise coming from a maw hidden behind the long shadow it cast. The mistress of war wastes nothingā¦