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The fog in my mind eclipsed the haze in the air as we moved closer to the little village built with wooden cottages in my head.

I could barely tell if it was the silence or the timid heartbeats the smokes of burnt houses saw in fearful eyes, or the demon feeding its pangs off our curious minds.

Swords drawn, stood on tiptoes anticipating the horror to unveil, with minds that wished the Lord took that cup from their lips...

A cloud of bats unraveled like pieces of black papers tossed into the wind above our head from the mist.

Each and everyone of us died and resurrected nine times... the life of a cat, but with the stomach of humans with startled butterflies that flew from tree branches in our intestines like a hive of startled bees.

We could hear the cawing of ravens from a distance, as each and every man looked into his brother's eyes, reading the notes left behind before cold expectant deaths.

Ours was a soup not yet served, a stilt gait still approaching.

"This could be our deaths", a coward lips mustered some courage to spew the unspoken words every soldier would not spit; still we masked our fears with courage as we walked into the devil's den, and behold!

Like surfacing at the end of a tunnel with soured expectations, behind the veiled fog a hundred happy eyes lit the darkness of terrified soldiers...

A sweetness crept into six bitter souls, as we collapsed into the warm embrace of familiar arms...

Evil, the short lived son of unnecessary fear!

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