The whiskey scorched all the way down as he took another swig. He almost fell over as he ground out his cigarette. That brought him face to face with that photo of her in that navy blue dress.
“I can’t believe you’re gone.”
A sob escaped causing him to slump into his recliner.
“We were so good together.”
Putting down the bottle, he picked up her image and gave it a sloppy kiss. He went to put it carefully back down, but instead, he fumbled it. The photo tumbled to the tiled floor, shattering the glass. He groped for the now naked photograph, cutting his hand, but undeterred, he snagged it. He sucked on the blood while staring into the picture’s eyes.
“You enjoyed that didn’t you, hurting me again?”
He picked back up the bottle and pounded what was left. Snatching his lighter he set fire to her visage.
He watched her burn, yet even when the flames reached his fingers, he couldn’t let go. Not even when she was just ashes.
“I told you I’d do anything to make you stay.”
He showed his fingertips to the navy blue urn on the bookshelf.
The killing field surrounded her as if she was in the eye of the storm. Bodies strewn all over, stabbed, shot, burnt. Not another living soul was in sight. Fallen comrades in arms were strewn among the remains of their enemies. It was a miracle that she was alive considering how much of her own blood stained the ground beneath her feet.
Her unit had been sent out to stop the approaching horde. Their village had been decimated by the plague, so they could only send out farmers and those too old to serve anymore. She was amazed they had stopped the monsters from taking away what was left.
She was so tired, but there was still there was more to do. She lit her torch and began to burn those bodies closest to her. The stench of sizzling flesh stung her lungs and eyes, but she didn’t pause as she raced to set more of the fallen ablaze.
The battle had been fast, but not fast enough. She tried to cry, but the tears were too tired to come. As the moon rose, so did the fallen. She could only set herself on fire. One fewer for the enemy.