Two Steps From Hell [A Warrior's Tale]

Downpour crashes upon broken earth, frantically escaping the dreary heavens above. Like millions of needles, it pierces the skin of my numbing and paling face. At first freezing, the sensation swiftly switches to a burning against my cheeks. With quivering lips parted, I inaudibly inhale and exhale, my breath forming a gray cloud that dissipates when touched by frigid air. Gazing straight ahead my thin brows knit together. My eyes narrow, both auburn orbs glazing over to reflect every drastic thought.



His thunderous voice trembles the atmosphere, overpowering the sound of the ceaseless rain against my helmet. I grind my teeth together, tightening the grip on my massive battle-axe. A sliver of evening light streams through the perspiration, making the two silver blades of my weapon glisten with the droplets that had clung to its overused surface. My throat suddenly becomes dry as nerves seemed to ignite, mixing with adrenaline. I could feel the trilling of my own heart against the intricately designed chest plate. For a moment, I thought there was fear within every beat.








(To be continued. . .)