Snippet #2612673

A lone man stood in the middle of a battlefield, wearing a blue colored armor with splashes of Crimson covering different parts of the armor. Around him was the carnage of a massacre, 15 men lay scattered all around him, all with jagged slash marks on their body. Behind him was a tank, it's main cannon had been sliced in half and the upper hatch was torn open. But what stood in front of him was the captain of the squad that died, he looked at the man with fear in his eyes, one man had killed his entire squad and was now a mere feet from him. He was holding his pistol still trying to press the trigger but his ammo had long run out trying to kill the unknown man, suddenly the man rushed at the captain with a strange sword in hand. The captain didn't move and began to press his trigger even faster then before, but before he knew it the unknown man was already in front of him as his sword roared to life and the last thing he knew was the sword plunging into his body with the teeth tearing at him.

The battle was now over as the last man from the opposite side had fallen in battle, the lone man then got on his knees and offered a prayer, "May the blood of my enemies from this battle be washed away in the next."