Image Source: George Stubbs in 1793: William Anderson with Two Saddle Horses

He looked out the window and saw a soldier crawling on her knees. There were dead bodies lying everywhere around the soldier. The War had just ended on Saturday, when all the bats sucked all the blood of the human soldiers. He commanded all the bats back into his cave, while sparing this one lone soldier. In her hands were a broken rifle and a crumpled piece of paper. Tossing her rifle behind her, she tore the paper into tiny scraps and blew them into the incoming wind. He would have flew out there and strangled her, but something held him back. He crunched his fist and slammed against the window. Startled by the noise, the soldier looked up and stared right into his eyes. Between the two of them, they shared a grueling, dark past. Their past flashed between them as if a windstorm zipped through the trenches of the War. A crack formed in the window, cutting into his flesh. Reaching up, he took off his mask. The soldier blinked once and smiled.

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