• the_novel_idealist

17 July 2020 - 15 Minute Fiction Friday



I still remember those last few moments with him, even now, as though it were yesterday.


I still remember the sounds of them screaming through their final breaths, still remember the silent interruptions of the air, still remember the beauty of his blade, scarlet against the moonlight.


It was then he turned to me, nestled as he’d instructed in the undergrowth, eyes glistening, compelling me to stay.


Past his figure, the others approached. So many had come. With a final glance at me, glowing with pride at his sacrifice, he threw his blade to the ground and faced his passing.