Friday, January 8, 2016

100 Words a Day 765

I reluctantly drew my sword and stalked towards the interloper. Grim determination hardened my features as the armored figure approached, stepping over the sprawled bodies of those who came before.

The fight was short and brutal, but the end was never in doubt. Dozens had come with his same purpose and I had dispatched them all.

I yanked my blade from his innards, cleaned it, and resumed my vigil.

None of them knew that I kept my watch not out of greed, but compassion. The power of the sword took much from me. I couldn’t let it take from another.

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