10:42 PMC
"White Flag" - Dido
JEREMY; Don't Put Your Evil On Me
Jeremy could feel his head pound against the insides of his helmet. He ran forward; a thin sheen of sweat collecting on his forehead and upper lip. His legs growing tired with the weight of the armor, his body bracing for battle. A guttural sound escaped his lips, surprising him with its intensity. He raised his sword in preparation for the first swing downward, his shield held secured to his arm, before him, ready for any invading attack. He could feel his hands itch, burn; his knuckles fading into white from the sheer grip of his hands on his weapons. Another guttural yell emitted him. The world appeared to slow, making the run toward Death ever longer. A delicate Monarch fluttered above, seemingly oblivious to the battle about to ensue beneath him. Jeremy could nearly count the seconds between each rise and fall of its wings. Everything silenced around him. The primal screams of his comrades and enemies muted by his shallow breaths within the helmet. The pounding footsteps of the clashing armies quieted to allow the butterfly opportunity to make noise with its wings. The only thing protesting otherwise was the ever pounding of the Earth beneath Jeremy’s feet. Like a heart beating beneath the soil, bu-bum, bu-bum, bu-bum. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. This is it. This is it. Turn away, Jeremy. Retreat. This is it. Retreat. JEREMY! RETREAT!
Impact.
Everything snapped forward. The volume was back on again. Body slammed against body. Swords against shields, against metal, against flesh. Warriors wailed in agony, others in anger. Jeremy was pure and utter fury. His will to survive stronger than ever. Three bodies clashed against him from behind, forcing him closer than intended to his enemy. His shield scraped against the other man's armor. He let fly his sword, anger and strength behind every swing. It slammed into the man's shoulder just as the man's slammed into Jeremy's shield. His eyes focused between the small slits of his helmet. Nothing existed outside of this moment. It was him or Jeremy; he could feel it in his bones. His sword seemed to have lifted of its own volition only to slam down against the side of the enemy's armor. The man let out a scream. This is it. Withdrawing his sword, Jeremy saw the crimson overflow from the man's armor. A deep gash in it proved that Jeremy's strength was heightened and matched only by his will to stay alive.
Another fighter dove forward, thwarting Jeremy's attempt to finish the man off. The more he killed, the less he'll have to worry about. Clang, crash, clang. This next one was eager to make Jeremy pay for his actions. I won't have it! Jeremy let pour his anger through his swing. Crimson flowed in a deep river from above the man's shoulder. That's two. He was unstoppable. He could feel his fury flow through him. Leave him alone and he'll take down the entire army in mere seconds. A man fell next to his feet; Jeremy continued forward. Eliminating any obstacle in his way.
That’s seventeen.
Eighteen.
Twenty-four.
His body was aching. His head continued, as it did before, to pound against his helmet. Threatening to send it cracking in shambles around him. He could feel his arms and legs protesting to the over exertion but his will was stronger, forcing him to continue forth. Behind him lay bodies. Men dead, men dying, men fighting. Fighting, like Jeremy, to get home to love and life.
Thirty-two.
Jeremy could feel the sweat drip out of every pore. He couldn't think of anything but getting to the other side alive. Forward and forward he went, swinging and blocking and swinging again; he was a man possessed. How long had it been now? Two hours? Five minutes? He didn't know. Time seemed to stop, allowing the men amble opportunity to fight without any disruptions until finally, the noise seemed smaller. The moving less intentional. Several men around him fell to their knees in exhaustion.
One last swing, Jeremy.
Finally Jeremy removed his helmet, let go his sword and shield with a crash and looked about him. Nearly fifty men, including the commander stood inspecting their work as well.
I don't really know if I'm here at all.
And before he knew it, the dream was all over.
