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Literature Text
Secret Histories
Somme River, France 1918 CE
"Its so cold." The young private kept bleeding out.
"Tommy, somebody's comin'. Just hold on." Sargeant Strigor held his right hand tight. "You'll get outta this alive..."
"Sarge... I... It hurts Sarge."
"I know Tommy, I know. This battle is it, Tommy. You did good. We'll get you back to Emma. Just hold on."
"Sarge... I gotta know. How?"
"How what Tommy?" Strigor looked away, his eyes narrowing.
"How is it you only show up at night, sarge? We've fought together for three months now... and you never appear during the day."
"Timin' Tommy, just timing. Rest, Tommy, the Medic is coming-"
"And how come you never die?"
Strigor looked down at Tommy. If the undead man could cry, that moment would've been it.
Somme River, France 1918 CE
"Its so cold." The young private kept bleeding out.
"Tommy, somebody's comin'. Just hold on." Sargeant Strigor held his right hand tight. "You'll get outta this alive..."
"Sarge... I... It hurts Sarge."
"I know Tommy, I know. This battle is it, Tommy. You did good. We'll get you back to Emma. Just hold on."
"Sarge... I gotta know. How?"
"How what Tommy?" Strigor looked away, his eyes narrowing.
"How is it you only show up at night, sarge? We've fought together for three months now... and you never appear during the day."
"Timin' Tommy, just timing. Rest, Tommy, the Medic is coming-"
"And how come you never die?"
Strigor looked down at Tommy. If the undead man could cry, that moment would've been it.
Short sadness. For some reason, I'm drawn to doing short snippets of sad darkness, more than anything else.
Whatcha think?
Whatcha think?
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