this might not be that good, as im better at songs and poetry than stories.
Leonidas lowered his head, but he knew the girl had died in his arms. He felt his blood boiling, his entire body prickling with energy. He felt a surge of adrenaline, his anger fueled by this grotesque spectacle. The girl was bait. They were still here. The demons that had murdered and slaughtered everything the girl had were still in his reach. The spartan king placed the girl on the ground, his eyes ablaze. Inside him, the very fires of hell burnt, his anger more intense than the sun itself. He roared, throwing his head back, a wordless cry to the sky. He would fight until the sun fell from the sky, until Sparta was nothing but ashes and his enemies heads rotting on Spartan spears. He drew his sword. it was no longer a piece of metal, but an extension of his will and his hatred to the Persian whores that had dared stain his land with their impure presence.
"Tonight Spartans," he cried, raising his sword, "We shall rid our land of these cowards. We shall sear flesh from bone until Xerxes himself cower before a Spartans rage and we shall severe his god like head from his oh so mortal body. We shall avenge the blood of these villagers drop for drop until all that is left in their veins is soot and ash. These, Demons, slander the under world by using their terms. They are nothing but men behind mere words. Immortals? I say we put their names to the test and how tat a Spartans reputation lies not behind his titles, but his actions, for they decide how we shall live and die. Now, my brothers, i decide how they die. And decide its now!"
The men roared, swords and spears raised in the air. Every step shook the earth, making even the very mountains crumble and crack. Xerxes would hear this beat, and this would be the rhythm to which he would fall.
Out of the shadows, they came, with fangs and claws, Grey skinned, cloaked in darkness. The king did not flinch. These demons were from what his unholy rage had spawned. From behind their masks, even the demons felt his anger. immortals. True, he put their names to the test. They came to him with words and titles. He came to them with a sword and shield.
The first demon Moved forward, locked in the Kings unfaltering gaze. The demon growled, a rumbling sound from deep in his metal face. The king roared. The Demon jumped at him, sword aimed at the Kings neck, everything to lose and everything to gain. With one breath the Demon stabbed. And hit the bronze of a spartan shield. The king swung, his roar shattering every demons title of immortality and crushing it into nothing. The kings roar hadn't finished before the Demon lay dead on the ground, his sword through his neck chest. Leonidas drew his spear.
"Tonight Spartans, we dine in hell. Tonight we fight, And they die. Give them nothing, but take from them EVERYTHING!" A spartan answer shook the 'immortals'. They put their name to the test. It seems that names cannot decide how you live. And with a spartan warrior, how you die.
The spilt enough blood that night to avenge every villager a thousand times more, yet the child's word still lay heavy on the Kings mind.
That night, the god king felt a very human shiver run down his spine.
