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The handle of the sword shone red under the pale light. The blood dripped from the guard to the ground. Drop by drop, the grass became tainted with a dark red.

The earth drank blood, its thirst voracious and never satisfied.

The crows circled high in the sky, their screeches and the sound of their wings flapping reaching down to the earth. But even the animals didn’t dare to approach yet.

The pale setting sun hidden by clouds cast shadows over the battlefields

Amidst the countless bodies, there was a sword. Piercing through a woman and stricken on the ground.

And then a voice echoed inside that blade.

Where am I…?

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phmmoura

  • Brazil

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