Silence wasn’t something to welcome. It signalled the start of a futile search for survivors. Strewn across the once lush green fields was the endless sight of carnage. Not one surviving groan could be heard across the wisps of smoke from the smouldering corpses.
Covering his mouth from the overwhelming stench of death and with a heavy step, Kyle began the grisly task of recovering dog tags and weapons; ammo was dangerously low and he knew peace was just a respite.
Not many of the enemy had been hit but even one should be seen as a slight victory; one less predator in the skies, one more chance of surviving the pointless war.
Kyle looked to the mountains; the enemy’s unbreakable territory where under the advancing shadows of dusk they came, flooding the sky with ferocious fire and sharp talons that ripped flesh from bone.
Nothing stopped them.
But this was their land, their territory. Kyle was the warring invader, sent on an impossible mission to defeat and conquer for the riches and minerals buried deep under the mountains.
A dragon soared, silvery wings splayed as he circled over the massacre, letting out a mournful cry. Kyle understood completely.