The cannons were booming over head. Thick smoke filled the air that burned your nostrils. The sent of death plagued the breeze as guns were fired and men fell. The sky was invisible as the war continued. One side had to retreat and run to safe ground, but the other side advanced. Take no prisoners, kill them all, was the rule of this battle. Guns flared and more deaths were recorded. There was a sea of blood that stained the snow. The pins and needles of cold and hunger only tickling compared to the sting of wounds and gun shots. The soldiers fought valiently, but in the end only one stood alive. With a sneer he took a match and burned the bodies, discarding them as trash. The millions of deaths and end of the battle was here. The last soldier was the one who started the war. The one to bring so much pain and suffering. But the frost closed in and they froze to death. Is this the end of this war? Have I lost? They thought, as they looked at the scars on their wrist and cut fresh wounds. They were dizzy, the war tiring them greatly, as they fell unconscious from behind the tree in the backyard, and stained the snow red.

~Kitkat