Hi, contains some disturbing scenes and death.
(Soldier POV)
The tension I felt as I held my breath filled my lungs like the gas that was soon to engulf is all. We waited patiently for the all-important whistle, standing there like books in a bookshelf. My mind was lingering when I started to think of home, where the ivy happily climbed up the drainpipe and where I left my sister way home, her enchanting voice humming to the outside world.
Then I snapped back to reality. The whistle still hasn't shrieked its horrible song yet. Anger erupted in the air, and all hell broke loose, finally the whistle blew and the battle of life or death had begun. We charged forwards like a pack of brave Wolves. We cursed forward through waterlogged fields and marshy grounds. A pale pastel green fog floated into sight.
"GAS! GAS!" Everyone shouted. Panic shot up my veins like fireworks. Out of nowhere shells whined and a shower of pebbles and clods of earth fell on our helmets like salt and pepper on chips.
Then I saw it Llion (a/n it's an actual name it's welsh and quite popular where I'm from, anyway) staring at his reflection in the water. Unconscious. Dead. A sob stifled in my throat, but I had no time to weep, my friends need me and I shan't let them end up like Llion. Ar least now he's began on a new adventure in a land no one has seen. I ran, I sprinted, I darted looking for the injured and taking them back to the 'hospital'. Ruby red blood splattered the ground like a blood-shod mine.
Finally the battle is over but I need to keep the horrifying gas mask on to protect me from the deadly gas. The sky is black as ink now, stars glinted in the sky like spots of joy however I was certainly not feeling joyful. A dozen men were proper up against the wall of the muddy trench, all gassed. Their colours were green, blue and black, coughing, spluttering and chocking. Eyes staring into nothingness, tongues hanging out like dehydrated dogs. A few dead and others beyond human aid. Coughing up ghostly green froth it looked like a horror movie, it will happen again and again until the cruel gas kills every living soul in its path. It will lurk into every nook and cranny, searching, slithering like a snake. It won't be my body laying there or Owain's or sergents. It won't be us we can rest, for now at least.
519 words
Thanks for reading, that's the first chapter! I wrote this two years ago for the school English department short story competition. Its a soldiers perspective on a gas attack in the Second World War and inspired by the poem 'dulce decorum est' by Wilfred Owen.
I've started my second story I might not update on a specific schedule as I'm starting my GCSE courses in about a month and I'm finishing all my work and homework to prepare.
Donec iterum vale!
( bye until next time, I'm learning Latin)
