The Battle Was Over

So I am WWWAAAAAAAAYYYYYY late in getting this in this past month.  I don’t think this is my best work, but that’s mostly because I didn’t have a strong story to create out of it.  My favorite stories of mine are the ones I feel are unfinished, which makes writing just an ending a difficult thing.

His opponent had stopped moving several minutes ago.  He was clearly dead, but Will just kept punching.  Through his tears and his pain, he just kept punching.  He had won and all was quiet again, except for the sound of his fist slamming into the mottled meat and shattered bone that once resembled a face.
Will finally stopped when Suzanne’s hand gently touched the back of his neck.  “Its done.  You won.  You can stop fighting now”.
Will held his hand still for the first time in what felt like his entire life.  He unclenched his fist and began to look around what was left of the bank.  He saw the blood and the gore plastered against what little remained of the walls and structure.  Twisted metal from the vault doors were lying by his sides.  They made effective weapons to use against his equally super-powered foe, but he still felt shame in having used them.
This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.  Having powers looked so amazing and Will was all too excited to test out his, but now he began to regret every moment of it.  After the heat of the battle, all he felt was sickness over what he had done.
Thankfully, there was one calming presence.  Suzanne grounded him and always brought him back to reality.  He loved her for that, and one day when this incident was far behind them he would tell her, but now was not the time.  Now he had to lie to himself and believe that the deaths he caused were acceptable losses and that happiness would follow.  He had to believe that at the end of it all, she would be happy, and that’s all that mattered to him.
He rose to his feet and shook off the pieces of ceiling plaster that had fallen on him.  “Are you ready?”, she asked him in a voice so tender he thought she might start crying as well.  Will wiped the murky tear tracks and dust from his face and gave her a solemn nod.

Will walked to the vault, loaded hundreds of bags of cash into the enormous sack he had brought along, and walked out out of the rubble holding the sack in one hand and her hand in the other.  They got into the car and drove through the terrifyingly silent streets, knowing the city they would never again call home might never recover.

Advertisements

Writing Challenge Entry – February

Subject: Japan
Setting: In Japan or about Japan
Time Period: Any
Length: Let’s keep it short
Restrictions: None
Due: February

____________________________

Right… Let’s select a subject we know and enjoy… Japan.

Anything about Japan or a short story that takes place in Japan. Try to write a short story with an ending. Don’t leave us hanging, ne!

Gambarimashou!

japan

Writing Challenge Entry – January – Write the end of a story

January Writing Challenge – Write the end of a story

Subject:  Write the end of a story.  Give clues in the writing to explain what transpired.

Setting: Any

Time Period: Any

Length: 500 words or greater

Restrictions: The only restriction I would give is that the ending shouldn’t be one big flashback through the story.  Just use clues in what the characters say, think, or do.

Due: End of the month

___________________________________

CHAPTER 24 – The End

…This time, his blade met flesh and bone sending the Unholy knight to his knees.

“I told you, these lands would be cleansed during my reign,” the King spoke.

The unholy knight, still on his knees, looked up to the King where only his darkened eyes could be seen from behind the black armor. “…but your reign is at its end…” the knight spoke just as he threw a dagger he had hiding in his hand. The dagger hit the King in the chest piercing his golden chest plate hitting his chest.

With a shout of pain the king ripped the black dagger from his chest. The Knight laughed from his knees, followed by the sounds of a wet cough. The King stepped closer still holding the dagger in his hand.

“You’ve lost! Your dagger barely cut me and by the sounds of it, you’re be dead soon.”

The Knight continued to laugh. “Such a mighty King. That cut will see you dead within an hour.

The King feared his words and quickly glanced down at the dagger to see the blade covered in some greenish ooze. His heart sunk and his head grew light. He knew the knight spoke the truth.

“Damn you!” the King threw the dagger to the ground as the knight laughed maniacally. He held his sword high and brought it down on the knight one final time. The laughing stopped as the knight’s body fell to the ground.

The King looked over the bloody battlefield to see hundreds dead and dying. Only a few of his men were still alive approaching him in the distance. The last five hours of fighting proved to be a victory. Suddenly an intense burning pain caused the King to fall to one knee. It was true he had won, but sadly he could not celebrate.

“My son! Bring me my son!” the King cried out to his men.

Three soldiers turned and headed to the palace as two healers rushed to the King’s side. They laid the King on the ground and removed his chest plate. They opened his tunic and viewed the dagger’s cut. The two healers looked at each other then slower down to the King.

“I am sorry, Sire. There is no cure for this unholy poison.”

The King already knew it was incurable when he viewed the black blade. He reached up to the healer who spoke to him taking hold of his arm. “It’s alright. Just see to my men still alive on the battlefield. They also need your help.”

“As you wish, Sire,” the healer said and turned back toward the battlefield.

“I’ll stay with you,” the second healer spoke softly, covering the tunic back over the King’s torso.

The King offered a smile. He had to conserve his energy until his son arrived.

#

“Father!” the King heard. Lifting his head he saw his fourteen year-old son with the three soldiers. “What happened? I thought we won?” His son spoke, rushing to his father’s side.

The King reached out his hand, his son took hold of it with both hands. “We did win, my son. The ten-year battle with this evil has come to an end. Our Kingdom is once again in peace. Your mother and your four brothers have been revenged.”

“But… father, you’re injured!”

The King took a deep breath. “My son, you are King now. You must protect our people. Feed them with the food and knowledge they need to maintain our Kingdom for another fifty years.”

His son bit his lip doing his best not to cry.

The King was proud. “Go now, my Son…. my King. I will leave this world but I will always be watching you, with you mother and your brothers by my side.” The ex-King lifted his sword from beside him and placed it in his son’s hands. His strength drained and his vision turned dark. “Be just … be fair.” The King exhaled for the final time.

The new King stood and saluted his father. The three soldiers and healer stood and did the same.

The Mortimer Kingdom started a new era of peace.