Prologue

Prologue

 

The air was cold as cannon fire lit up the night sky. The men dying; some screamed upon the hill of once brown dirt and green grass now stained crimson red with their blood. General Horatio Gates was a tall man at five feet 8 inches his hair white with age yet his face seemed ageless unlike his father he had brown eyes like his mother and a nose like a aristocrat. Gates kicked off the mud from his boots and unbuttoned his navy blue waist coat with gold plated buttons. His rank shown clearly on his collar, taking the rocks Gate wiped the grime off and placed the two flat rocks on his sturdy desktop made of pine which was given to him by his wife Elizabeth Phillips who he had married on leave last October as a gift which had aged some since he became General.

 

He smiled as he remembers her soft rich face and deep blue eyes as they glowed in the moonlight during their last kiss. He reaches down lifting a locket of her honey color hair tied in a red ribbon around his neck to his nose and breaths deeply the sent of her jasmine perfume, seeing the image of her in his mind and sighing with longing.  With the rocks that he himself retrieved from the creek below just north about a mile of the hillside below them. With a steady hand, Gates pointed to the nearby town on the map they were inspecting. His six Captains taking note as they leaned forward on their swords as they creaked against their black boots.

 

 

A large ball of fire whistled through the trees from behind them as shouts of men came charging in between them. Gates knelt and placed his hands on his head as they were being surrounded. With in moments General George, Augustus, Eliot was named after his grandfather and always preferred the name Eliot to separate him from his grandfather.

 

Eliot stopped for brief moment to taken in the surroundings and gather himself and wiped off his sword covered in blood and re-holstered it before making his entrance after all “business is business,” his father would say ‘better to look sharp unhurried then be always in a rush boy’.  Eliot quickly opened the tent flap of map tent seeing his men have obeyed his orders by take control of the hill after two hours of hard fighting he paused for just a moment to slow his quickened heart and taking in a bit of fresh air always seemed to help as he poured some spice wine into tin cup raised to lips then changed his mind pouring it on the ground. His red coat with gold plated buttons shined brightly in the sunlight. He looked sharp with silver thread etched down the front and round his pockets. His face chiseled with age and blue hazel eyes showed wisdom as he gazed into the mirror which hung from a corded.

 

Taking his right hand he carefully adjusted his powder gray wig. From left he eyed his men and the map. Eliot reached for his sword at his side as it rang true in the air. His eyes harden with hate. Yet held remorse, knowing the battle has indeed end after two years of hard winters, his boots worn from a long hard journey. Eliot gives a quick nod as his men give way to him.

 

Time it self seemed to stop like a strange shimmer like blur images so quick he felt dizzy nearly dropping his sword as quick as breath the sword seemed to glisten with drops of blood which was pointed at Gates throat. Something in the men’s eyes around him seemed strange as they watched their leader now captured. There eyes crisscrossed the room of the canvas Map Tent. It was as if the air had gone stale, odd he thought.

 

Both Generals eyes met as they watched and listened into the battle around them, but neither trumpet or regiment noise was heard. It seemed to have stopped. All that was left was the stillness of the night.

“It looks like, my General, we have won,” he said

 

No sooner did General Eliot say those words than black fog began to filter among the dead men lain across the field.  The few men that were left standing outside the tent fell to the ground and began to shake and transform. Their eyes seemed hollow and hair shown with age as their mouths opened into loud horrifying scream. The dead begun to rise up around the battlefield leaving them no place to run, the air grew chill and began to glisten on their rifles like droplets of sweat as their breath hung in the chilled air. Gate’s hands began to shake with fear as he pushed the sword off his throat and pointed to a large figure with glowing yellow and green eyes. Gates watched the small canvas tents being ripped apart by figure dressed in black ragged robe which seemed to suck all the colors around it turning ashen gray as it walked towards Gates and Eliot. Its yellow and green electric eyes narrowed towards the men in the map tent. When it smiled you could see its teeth rotted yet sharp giving off a soft clicking sound as they seemed to communicate with what used to be Gates and Eliot’s army now theirs now standing behind them waiting for their orders.

The figure gained speed as it saw its intended victim. “I have found you at last my dear bothers,” the voice sounded like it was grated against sandpaper.

 

Gates and Eliot turned to face each other as the being of such terror of which they have never before seen except only know of the creature through stories told around the campfire and thoughts of wild fancy.

The men watched paralyzed in fear as it strikes out with its boned skeletal hand, its eyes shined with horror of green yellow eyes as their captain and their men’s blood spewed out as it struck swiping its curved knife stained with fresh blood as dripped red droplets upon the ground in front of them. Its rags torn like black ribbons floated on cushioned air and the smell of fresh potent blood and the smell of rotten decayed flesh hung in the chilled air.

Eliot hung over as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes taking on the final shock and terror as he gathered strength before he charged in.  The figure in the black fog reached out with inhuman strength as took a firm grip around Eliot’s neck. Gates watched in horror at the same time swung his long sword by his side, hearing only sound as heard Eliot’s neck snap then fade with the dawn.

The figure in black laughed. “Awake my brothers, for the time is upon us as we sweep the lands of this cursed disease known as mankind. We must strike the heart throughout its Time and watch the lands before us kneel before our master.” The figure lifted his sword as gripped with skeletal hand then sweeps the land then laughed at the approaching dawn as he watched the sun rising above the hills as he faded away into a “new time” before the dawn of a new age……

 

Reviews

[joshua deathdealer]

I like the pace and imagery. Nicely done.

[Cascara (aka Sprint Goe..]

This is an interesting story so fsr,
but as I said earlier in another review,
you should work on the grammar errors in here.

[Raven Starhawk]

Marvelously composed.

[Shep]

You are more than welcome to tear this apart, all I ask is an honest review. That includes. (Typos, Grammar and tenses.) Just tell me where and what I need to fix. Note: the words in read are my bookmarks please ignore it.

[PrincessZeldaWannabe]

Really cool! Love history!