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Description
I can smell it.

The scent of fresh blood and burning flesh assaults my nose, twisting my stomach, and filling my lungs.  One hand is pressed over my mouth, another against the cold skin of my stomach trying to control the sensation rising in my throat.

It does not help.

Turning my face to the side, I retch till I find myself bringing up nothing, yet my body still continues to heave trying to relieve the nausea that still plagues my body.  I tremble as I wipe my mouth clean on my torn sleeve and force my eyes to close once more.

But the vision does not leave me.  It is imprinted there on the slate of my mind, torturing me even when I can no longer see.  Flames are everywhere and their heat presses hard against my skin.  They lick eagerly at the village homes consuming the wood and straw structures till they collapse on the inhabitants within.

Bodies are running everywhere, their arms flailing wildly as they try to quench the flames that have engulfed them.  I see them fall still aflame no longer screaming, no longer struggling, just giving into the sweet release of death.  And the flames burn on indifferent to the sorrow that surrounds them.

Shadows are contorted into shapes they should never hold and then are torn apart and flung aside like filth.  Their blood flies everywhere before being lapped up by the thirsty earth.  The dirt paths are quickly churned into a think, red mud by hooves and fleeing feet.

Figures on their knees hold out hands as if to beg for mercy and have their arms broken and their heads severed from their bodies.  Children are strung up from the branches of burning trees and tortured slowly.  Their cries are terrible and shrill, yet no one takes heed except their parents who stand at a distance being forced to watch their little ones suffer.  And once the torture is complete, they have their eyes cut from their faces and leave the world with their child’s mutilated corpse being the last sight they ever see.

Suddenly, I can hear my name being called.  I groan, pressing my hands to my ears, feeling the tears that are steadily flowing down my face.

“Miranda!”

The voice is filled with terror but I do not respond.

“Miranda!”

My fingers are pressing hard against my skull.  I want it to stop.

“Miranda!  Please no!  Miranda!”

The voice is full of panic now and pain but I will not move.  Clutching my head I cry, I beg, I pray…just let it end.  The voice grows louder; I can feel it vibrating through me rattling every bone in my body.  Then the scream comes.  No longer a plea for my presence, it is just a long incoherent exclamation of suffering.  My body is thrown to the ground as it goes on driving nails into my skull.

And then I can hear it.  Above the crackling flames, the screams of pain, the shouted orders comes that laugh.  It surrounds me, mocks me.  Like a rope it binds me to this place and forces me to open my eyes, to see the destruction.  Everything around me is burning, bleeding, dying.  I watch everything end, tears streaming, hands clenched, chest heaving and I let my own terrified scream join the din around me.

I am afraid.

Description
I can smell it.

The scent of fresh blood and burning flesh assaults my nose, twisting my stomach, and filling my lungs.  One hand is pressed over my mouth, another against the cold skin of my stomach trying to control the sensation rising in my throat.

It does not help.

Turning my face to the side, I retch till I find myself bringing up nothing, yet my body still continues to heave trying to relieve the nausea that still plagues my body.  I tremble as I wipe my mouth clean on my torn sleeve and force my eyes to close once more.

But the vision does not leave me.  It is imprinted there on the slate of my mind, torturing me even when I can no longer see.  Flames are everywhere and their heat presses hard against my skin.  They lick eagerly at the village homes consuming the wood and straw structures till they collapse on the inhabitants within.

Bodies are running everywhere, their arms flailing wildly as they try to quench the flames that have engulfed them.  I see them fall still aflame no longer screaming, no longer struggling, just giving into the sweet release of death.  And the flames burn on indifferent to the sorrow that surrounds them.

Shadows are contorted into shapes they should never hold and then are torn apart and flung aside like filth.  Their blood flies everywhere before being lapped up by the thirsty earth.  The dirt paths are quickly churned into a think, red mud by hooves and fleeing feet.

Figures on their knees hold out hands as if to beg for mercy and have their arms broken and their heads severed from their bodies.  Children are strung up from the branches of burning trees and tortured slowly.  Their cries are terrible and shrill, yet no one takes heed except their parents who stand at a distance being forced to watch their little ones suffer.  And once the torture is complete, they have their eyes cut from their faces and leave the world with their child’s mutilated corpse being the last sight they ever see.

Suddenly, I can hear my name being called.  I groan, pressing my hands to my ears, feeling the tears that are steadily flowing down my face.

“Miranda!”

The voice is filled with terror but I do not respond.

“Miranda!”

My fingers are pressing hard against my skull.  I want it to stop.

“Miranda!  Please no!  Miranda!”

The voice is full of panic now and pain but I will not move.  Clutching my head I cry, I beg, I pray…just let it end.  The voice grows louder; I can feel it vibrating through me rattling every bone in my body.  Then the scream comes.  No longer a plea for my presence, it is just a long incoherent exclamation of suffering.  My body is thrown to the ground as it goes on driving nails into my skull.

And then I can hear it.  Above the crackling flames, the screams of pain, the shouted orders comes that laugh.  It surrounds me, mocks me.  Like a rope it binds me to this place and forces me to open my eyes, to see the destruction.  Everything around me is burning, bleeding, dying.  I watch everything end, tears streaming, hands clenched, chest heaving and I let my own terrified scream join the din around me.

I am afraid.