The Art of War

The quiet before a storm is very much more pronounced in a war. The moment the sun rose and blanketed the battlefield with its light. The was an unnatural quiet in the air. Elijah and Xavier hid on the far edges of the war-torn ground. Their only cover was a shelled out home, in plain view of the enemies. Everyone waited with bated breath, each side tense. Elijah's scope found an unlucky soldier. He pulled the trigger, and the following crack harked the start of the havoc. It was a terrifying transformation. The once quiet land was suddenly thrown into chaos. Artillery shook the earth and soldiers took protection in its trajectory. War is art. It shows the culmination of human progress, our strive to be efficient at killing each other. Body parts scattered everywhere, last breaths were taken by many, the souls of soldiers were ripped from their bodies in a furious hail of carnage. It was beautiful. Beautifully morbid.