And The Blood Boils

A excerpt of a short story I just thought of. I never done this before. Give me critiques please.

And there she was. Standing in her room while peering deep into her own obsidian colored eyes. I could sense her own reflection was terrified of her but abstained such high favor for her. Poface was a beautiful swarthy woman and her wild bushy hair proved it more to anyone graced by her presence.

I was sitting on her bed behind her, studying her. It was nearing towards dawn outside and she was painting intricate designs on her face in black and red. 

"Can I ask you something?", asked Poface.

"What is it that you need?" , I asked back.

"Why is it and I mean why. Why is it that opposition must exist?" 

Poface placed her paint brush down and then turned around to look at me. She looked like an old school native during the civil war prepping for a battle. I was honestly puzzled by her question at first but then I had the answer or at least I thought.

"The opposition helps you grow of course." , I said naively.

Poface laughed at me with such vigor and I didn't understand why. Obviously, opposition makes you grow from my own experience. Her hardy laughed transitioned into slight chuckles and she gave me a slight glance. She smiled at me in such a melancholy manner even the gods knew that her expression was truth in its' purest form. 

"Opposition never existed. It is only a concept even in times of war. For opposition can be good or bad. It's all on the same table, same string, and same spectrum." 

Poface stopped talking and walked towards her door. She placed her ear against the door. She motioned me to come over to the door. I walked over and placed my ear on the door. All I heard was....bubbles popping? I was about to open the door but Poface held me back. 

"Get the machetes." , Poface whispered.

I crawled over towards the other side of her room to get the machetes and came back to her in the same manner. I placed a machete in her hand and then she opened the door. I was clinching my machete hard as I listened to the large gulp passed through my throat. We both poked our heads out from the door into the hallway. We saw soldier uniforms on the ground but not the people. We only saw remains of their once bodies and the blood was boiling.