Torn In Half

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A war always has two sides. Sometimes maybe more. And in the end, only one side can win...

Submitted: January 30, 2014

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Submitted: January 30, 2014

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There is good and there is evil.
There is right and there is wrong.
And good and right always win.
Right?

The war was raging, fierce and loud, echoing through the darkness. Screams of murder rang through people's ears. It was a war that they knew they could not lose.
Step by step, she made her way down the corridor.
It seemed like the two sides were equal. Both were menacing, their armies numbering beyond belief. Every time one fell, another took their place.
She had to be quiet, had to be calm. What she was about to do was something that she could never, ever let anyone know.
Two of the soldiers were watching from the sidelines. They were on opposite sides- sides I shall name Good and Evil. Both were waiting for their turn to slaughter. But while they were not on the field, they could still talk like distant friends.
Her mind couldn't be changed now. But her heart- it was her heart that was the problem.
One soldier looked across the plains and saw nothing but death. The other soldier looked across the battlefields and saw nothing but honor.
"How can you stand it?" the Good soldier asked. "You seem so happy about killing men, even your own."
The Evil soldier shook his head. "We stand it because we know how to win a war. Death is natural here. If you can't handle it, you will loose."
Her breathing was loud, so loud she was afraid they might hear. Tears stung her sapphire eyes as she remembered what they did to her. Wasn't it fair, then, to do it to them?
Shots rang out in the distance, not that anyone noticed. Gunfire was a sound that all of them had already become accustomed to. It was as natural as a whisper.
But she wasn't doing what they did to her. No. She was doing something much, much worse.
Besides, it wasn't the gunfire that stood out in the noise. Nor was it the bombs, that stormed the land like rain. It wasn't even the planes and jets and helicopters flying above, blasting the people beneath them like ants. 
Instead, it was the sound of death.
Death is not silent or picturesque, like movies like to imagine it is. The soldiers died with a moan, a yell, a scream. And although the cries weren't loud, they managed to amplify themselves by ricocheting off souls and hearts, until death was so loud you could almost hear the pain of it.
The kitchen light was on. It was dim, but homely. It reminded her of happy days and lost times. A tear escaped, even though she'd promised herself not to cry. Tears had a way of doing that.
The land, underneath their feet, started to weep. It could feel the death on top of it, the countless bodies rotting and being forgotten. And all this over just one act. The land knew how foolish the soldiers were, but how was it supposed to stop them? The only thing to do, it guessed, was to pray.
Her lips formed a prayed without her even noticing. What was she praying for? Forgiveness? Because if God had any common sense, he would not grant her that wish.
A cry pierced the Good soldier's ears. 
"Looks like it's my turn to go out there."
The Evil soldier nodded a goodbye to his friend with a sigh. As soon as the soldier reached the battlefield, they were enemies. Which was how they would stay until the end.  
She knew, deep in her heart, that they weren't her enemies. But it was too late. It was like they'd crossed a line, onto a battlefield. Everyone knew once you crossed that line, there was no going back.
The war seemed to come to a complete stop. This had happened before. Sometimes, it seemed as though everyone was just waiting for somehing to happen.
There it was. The bedroom door. She slowly, carefully, twisted the knob. The door swung open effortlessly.
Then suddenly the war turned back on again, at full speed. Everything was louder. The two sides knew, almost instinctively, that their time was nearly up.
She stood at the end of the bed, her hand twitching. It was now or never.
Good and Evil clashed, merged, then disbanded, then repeated this vicious cycle over and over and over-
But then one side gets the upper hand.
Her heart seemed at the tipping point. A decision was to be made soon, she was sure of that.
The losing side screamed in their defeat. They had fought valiantly, but it wasn't enough. They had to acknowledge that they just weren't ready.

Then, in an instant, her heart settled. The war that had been raging for so long now, the war where both sides had been balanced, has now come to an end.

It was all over now, and the outcome was obvious.

'She raised her knife, up high, and struck.'
Evil had won.
Evil had won.

There is good and there is evil.
There is right and there is wrong.
And good and right always win.
Wrong.


© Copyright 2018 thegiver. All rights reserved.

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