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Never Show Mercy: Part one

Book By: kyleazle
Historical fiction

A young Spartan soldier faces guilt after killing a helot. (See part 2 soon)

Submitted:May 8, 2013    Reads: 25    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   

Never Show Mercy: A Short Story By kyla-rose Walden age 13 Sympathy. Its an incredible thing that comes naturally to us humans. We see someone hurt, and we help them gladly. An animal lies dead on the road, and we feel its pain within our hearts. But if you ever make an incredibly stupid mistake - and set yourself up for rejection - you may face guilt and sorrow for the rest of your life. My name is Lotheos. I learned through this story that sometimes excitement may lead you to great regret. * * * * * * * "SPARTANS!" Shouted General Thullius. "TODAY WE FORCE THE PESKY HELOTS TO QUIT THIS OUTRAGEOUS REBELLION NONSENSE. WE ARE SPARTA! WE CANNOT BE DEFEATED! WE NEVER BACK DOWN! AGREED?" "Awhooo! Awhooo!" We shouted gleefully. "Pests. Us warriors need food. I don't even remember the last time I ate a good piece of meat," said my friend Thalmander, rubbing his stomach. It had been a grueling process walking though the mountains. I was hungry, but didn't speak. "ERIDELUS!" Roared the general. "Lead Lotheos and his group to the main square! WE WILL SHOW THEM!" Eridelus smirked. He was tall and bulky, just beginning to grow a beard. He was probably around 18 years while I was only 15. He hated me and my crew for reasons unknown...but oh well. "Listens you maggots," He sneered. "Around 75% percent of you will die today...I'm betting on the wimpy one first," he kicked me in the gut so I stumbled to prove his point. "If you make me look bad while I'm still alive that's nothing but gruel for a week! AM I CLEAR?" "For Nike! Awhoo!" We yelled. We ran, shields raised towards the town square. Around 40 men in weak leather armor stood dazed and confused. We drew our spears and charged. Slash. Slit. Clash. Ploomp. 3 more waves of men ran blindly at us. As they ran I realized something. Where was Thalmander? A helot man leaned over him, sword about to hack down on his exposed, tender neck. Im not sure what happened next. They say it was adrenaline, but I believe Hercules himself was guiding me. "ARGHHHHHHH!" I ran at the man, and threw my shield. The sharp edge hit him in his neck. His head fell slowly to the ground. I had beheaded him. With my shield. I was proud. But the strange rush was still there. "Haaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrhaaaaaa!" I parried with my sword and thrust with my spear. I was doing great. But I hesitated as I hovered above a boy about my age. "Please," He gasped. "Take me prisoner, please just dont-" "Never show mercy," I stated grimly. "Never show mercy." Slash. Hack. Clink. As the helot died, I swore I heard a blood curdling screech.


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