Chapter 51: Just Like the Enemy

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I slash to my right, and cut to my left. I dodge the wild swing of a stubby goblin's club and slip my knife into it's stomach. It clutches its intestines as black blood pours onto the ground. But there is no time to dwell on it. I spin to decapitate another just before it lands a crude sword on my neck. I'm breathing heavily, I am not sure how long I can continue.

Although Kili and the others fight but a few hundred feet away I feel incredibly alone. In war, everyone is solitary. It is me verses every orc in the ten thousand strong army. Every one of them lives to kill. I stand in their way.

Slash dodge stab.

Three down.

Doge stab slash.

Four down.

A nameless dwarf to my right cries out in pain and I see his crumpled body out of the corner of my eye. A large blue-white orc with spikes set deep in his skin stands over him. The fiend puts one foot on the fallen dwarf's head and heaves his spiked club out of the corpse's skull. There is a sickening crack of the skull and what was once a head is transformed into a bowl of blood by the killer's heel.

Spin cut doge stab cut.

That one was harder. Five down.

Spikes approaches me on clunky huge feet. Black blood slips down his arm from a small cut in between his iron-infested skin. He smiles at the easy target he has just discovered. My hands tighten on my knives and we begin. He heaves right, I dodge left. I stare intently at his shoulders, searching for a muscle-twitch, a telegraph of the next motion. His left arm tenses for a smash of the fist. I drop as his fist grazes my scalp. But I don't pause, there is no time. I immediately spring up, holding my large knife in both hands. my entire body weight is behind the blade as I bury it straight up into his armpit. His scream is drowned out by the sounds of thousands of others dying. His arm hangs loose in its socket only attached by a few lines of sinew. I yank the blade out and jump out of his reach. This precaution, however, turns out to be unnecessary. Spikes drops his club instantly and clutches at his limp limb. The loss of blood causes the great monster to sway on his feet.

I spring my little knife to the side momentarily to gut a small goblin.

Six down.

Spike has dropped to his knees and I end the creature's misery with a deep cut across the throat.

Seven down.

Stab dodge right, lean back, slash.

Eight down.

The ritual continues. Although my muscles scream but I cannot slow down.

One more. You just need to kill one more.

The thought pounds through my mind over and over again. And so 20, 30 kills pass and it seems I am getting nowhere. Our ranks thin. On every side there are casualties. Dwarves and orcs alike lie in a communal pool of blood. The smell of corpses makes me weak in the knees. But I can't stop.

Stab, duck- I back up and slip on a blood-soaked beard. I fall backwards and my knife is trapped in the dwarf's ribcage. I yank, sending a shudder through the corpse. The goblin jabs at me with his spear I shift my weight just in time to avoid a fatal stroke through my neck. The chipped blade scratches my left shoulder instead. I abandon my knife momentarily and slip it's smaller counterpart through the goblins left ribs stopping its heart instantly.

I turn back to the dwarf to retrieve my weapon and I'm met with the horror's of a face. Pointed brown hair lies in damp masses around his face. Nori's dead eyes are clouded over and his ribs are trapping my knife. The horrors of war grip my stomach and the world slides backwards. I'm on my back vomiting.

Mortality. Death. This could be me, my brother, Kili...

The smell of sour-sweet fills my nose and my empty stomach clenches. Battle clatter surrounds me.

I need my knife back.

I force myself back to my hands and knees and try again. Nori's still-warm body shakes at the yank. I grit my teeth and stand.

I'm sorry. I need this.

I place a leather-bound foot on my former company member's chest, reach down, and force the knife from his chest. I feel his ribs snap under my soft-soled foot.

Just like Spikes did.

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