Violet

The Marsh

The marsh is under attack. Again. But despite that, it’s still so eerily silent here. When I look at it, it seems that there’s nothing wrong with the place, peaceful even. The long grass sways with the wind, the clear water ripples lightly, but that’s only because it’s what the enemy does best: moving stealthily without sound and without being seen. Add the thick fog that settles in the marsh every dawn.

Destroy them all, take no prisoners was my order and I am planning to follow that order.

Silence. It is too silent that I think I can hear my own heartbeat. Dub dub, dub dub. Then I hear it--the sound that breaks the silence. It is the slightest of sounds. A normal person will probably mistake it for a gush of wind but I’m not a normal person. A normal person has been long ago extinct, and it definitely isn’t just a gush of wind. It is the sound of the enemy. I recognize it, because my hearing has been trained through many years of fighting.

It's coming from my east.

I grip the magnum revolver in my hand. A sweat tickles my neck, in the area just behind my right ear. The water is cold from my feet but my whole body is hot. My body is hot to kill. Then I hear the sound again, and without any second thought, I leap from hiding and raise my revolver.

 Bang.

The alarm bell rang around 3:01 this morning. Those who are old enough to fight were called to the Center. I was one of those. I remember waking up, waking my neighbors up, and running down dark corridors, taking left turns, then right turns. I remember the feeling of it being normal. Dressing up in black water proof suits was normal. Picking up my trusty magnum revolver and thrusting it into my holster was normal. Stacking bullets was normal. Being sent to the marshes to kill off the attacking enemies was normal. Obeying orders like “Destroy them all, take no prisoners,” was normal.

Then I realize it isn’t just normal. It is my life.

The face of my enemy is in shock. It isn’t even human. Its skin is a dark shade of purple, its fingers sharp. Its eyes hollow and pitch black, its nose like that of a snake, its ears like that of an elf, its teeth sharp. It is horrible. It is ruthless. It is of no mercy. It must die. And die it did. It does not shed blood, but instead it bursts into a thousand glittering dusts that fills the place with their awful stench. I feel that wonderful sensation again--that feeling of an afterkill. My lips stretch into a cruel smile.

Then I want more.

I want to kill more. More of these morbid beasts who killed everyone I loved.

So I do.

Bang. Bang. Bang. I don’t need to see them to kill them, I don’t need to hear them walk or move, I just need to hear them scream that high pitched shriek of them. This is my life.

But the feeling abandons me as fast as it engulfed me. Hours later, I feel nothing again. I pant. I killed a lot of those beasts. It will be enough for now. The sun is slowly rising in the east. A new day is dawning.

I look around. Some of my comrades are well, some are wounded. I do not know if somebody died but I doubt that. Seems like the moment I fired my gun they started to attack too, causing the actual action to commence. Most of the monsters are dead, others have escaped.

Then I see something that deeply troubles me.

Fayne, a fellow fighter, is tying a knot around the hands of a beast. After securing the beast, she nudges it with her gun to walk towards the Guild. I approach her. This is not part the the orders.

“Fayne, our orders are to not take any prisoners,” I tell her.

She ignores me. She just continues to walk behind the purple thing, pointing her rifle at its back. Fayne is the daughter of Sir Crain, one of the twelve leaders of the Guild. She’s been with the Guild since the very day it started, 8 years ago.

“Fayne—“ I try again. This time she interrupts me.

“Look, Arche,” she starts, “You and I both know that we’ve never been friends. So we both know that you have entirely no right to tell me what I should or should not do. So back off.”

Fine, whatever. I don’t care if you end up being punished for doing such a foolish thing as taking back prisoners. I do not like Fayne. I do not like every inch of her. She is just so beautiful, so fair, so perfect and I hate it. Everybody loves her and I hate it. It’s not that I’m insecure or anything but there's just something about her fair skin, her beautiful blue eyes, her perfect red lips, her auburn hair that is just ticking me off. Like behind that awful beauty lies something dark. I know I sound insecure, but who wouldn’t be if they know Fayne.

Suddenly, I hear the thunder of horses coming from beyond the marshes. My heart leaps.  

They have arrived. My friends. 

*what do you think? please vote if you think it's worthy of one :) and please don't judge a book by its first chapter :) read on, guys ;D Yep, I did edit it to those who noticed :D And also, you can pronounce Arche's name any way you want but I say it as "Ark" :)