This is a spur of the moment idea i had so i put it in writing.... im still working on it so yea.... constructive criticizm would be very helpful
this is a bit bloody, just a bit thought
I awoke to the sounds of screaming and fighting; quickly leaping out of bed I realized, my house was on fire! Outside my room I saw my father, a Spartan war hero, engaging 5 Persian men at once; his leg was deeply gashed, blood steadily trickling down his leg to form an ever-growing pool of blood at his feet. I looked in horror as another man cut down my mother, her head rolling to my feet, sightless eyes gazing up at me a look of terror in her face.
Grabbing my sword I entered the fray; slicing open the stomach of the Persian man who had beheaded my mother, his hands grabbing trying to keep his guts from fall out, I quickly slashed his throat, spraying his companions and I with his blood as he fell to the ground gurgling.
“William, get to the center, protect the king “ he said turning to face me, a large Persian man taking advantage of my father’s distraction, stabbed him, his sword erupting from my fathers chest. He sank to the ground his lifeblood pooling around him as his mouth tried to form words “run!” he groaned before a sword was driven through his skull.
Without hesitation and looking back I ran, I ran past so many other burning homes, so many dying families, and so much slaughter. I remembered that the invading Persians came out of nowhere; they caught us completely unawares during one of our festivals celebrating our god. I was snapped out of my thoughts as a good friend of mine began to run along side me with his right hand no more than a bloody stump. “What happened to you?” I asked with slight concern in my voice; before he could explain he took an arrow to the side of his head, instantly killing him. Screaming out I searched for his killer; finding his assailant I began to run towards him, but remembering my father’s last words I ran onwards.
Upon reaching the center of the city I saw the king and his men were hard pressed by the Persian forces, but for every Spartan that fell 10 Persians died. Running up I began to hack my way to the last line of Spartan defense, in doing so I took an arrow through the shoulder, turning around only to recognize my attacker as the same man who killed my friend; having reached the plaza I began swinging my swords right and opening arteries and throats, a man grabbed the arrow sticking out of my shoulder and twisted, my left arm going limp, I dropped my sword. I then spun around and beheaded the man who attacked me from behind; another arrow found its way inside my side, I ran to the center were there was less fighting, sheathing my sword and taking up a shield. I walked into the temple and collapsed, ripping the arrows from my blood spattered body and priest began to tend to my wounds. “How does it look?”
