Quickness Of Battle

Bullets whizzed by the air, the sounds they made could be easily heard as they passed by and crashed into walls. Shots continued to trek the dust-filled skies. Firing noises came from all directions. The cries and shrieks of people dying could be heard if close enough. After being shot, the wounds continued to ooze out blood, almost gushing out like a faucet running with water. Multiple soldiers continued to move in squads to certain locations, only to find themselves shooting back at what had been shooting at them. To those fighting, it seemed like a never-ending battle of bloodshed.

The ones shot, happened to be lying down, their thoughts racing through their heads. It wouldn’t stop till their heart stopped beating, they were covered in blood, and left to rot on the ground. Those left alive continued fighting, shooting at their adversaries with every piece of ammunition they had. Eventually, with the air filled with the smell of dead bodies, smoke, and blood. The soldiers left standing dealt with the dreaded stench of victory and loss. They lost a lot of their friends, family, and comrades.

Once the feeling of victory was sensed within the soldiers, they trudged through the dusty weather and soft sand, hoping not to fight anymore. Gunshots rained from behind the soldiers, bullets impacting against their backs. The soldiers fell face first into the dirt covered ground, backs bleeding in multiple area from the wounds. The soldiers shot were left to die and rot into the ground, one another looking at each other, saying their last goodbyes with the remaining strength they had mustered. Some of them had tears coming from their eyes as they had regrets about dying like that. The other soldiers that shot them went to inspect the dying soldiers, they shot every single one in the head two or three times to assure that they were dead. Afterwards they fired the remaining rounds from their magazine clips into the air and shouted for victory…