Affairs Amongst Immortals {POLY}

☆The Battlefield (pt.1)☆

(3rd person pov)

Behind a stone wall, in the clearing of a forest, bloody bodies lay unconscious. Soaked in piles of sticky red goo, their corpses rested pale and unmoving.

Vrena's fingers held tightly around her pugio dagger, it now being slicked in red fluid and slippery in her grasp. The smell of zombie blood was quickly encapsulating all her senses.

Fangs bared, she lunged for the enemy, who was sending a firm glare to her.

He caught her arm. With a groan, the zombie pulled her down by her hair. But before he could get his teeth into her skull, she knocked him back with her elbow.

He suddenly lost his grip on her. Barely thinking, she jammed the dagger into his throat.

In shock, the zombie reached for it just before she yanked it back. It now allowed him to bleed out.

His fingers curled into his palm, and his fist blew forward, directly impacting her nose.

Vrena stumbled back, "Fuck."

Her legs ached, barely holding her up, and her eyes watered.

She reached up for the blood trailing out from her nose. Every smell overwhelmed her.

She quickly tried to blink back the water that was blurring her vision.

He took a single step back. "Do you surrender?" he huffed grimly.

She laughed, "You must be scared."

And caught off guard.

With a blunt forward thrust of her arm, her dagger slashed cleanly through his neck.

Vrena grunted as blood splattered across her warm ivory skin.

"Never."

His body tumbled to the ground. His head, being disconnected from the rest of him, rolled to the side before getting caught in the dirt.

Vrena watched as his lifeless eyes sunk, the entire head disappearing into the pit of mud. Streams of red blood made their way to surface through the brown puddle like oil in water.

"Vrena! Behind you!"

Starved, she wasn't as high on alert as she usually was. At the sudden roar of the voice, she was suddenly stumbling back. The heel of her platform heels got caught on a twig.

Groaning, she fell to the ground with such force that her head was thwacked against the solid muddy ground. From the impact, her dagger flew from her hand, landing a few feet away.

Vision going blurry once again, she reached out for it, but underestimated its length from her. Her acrylic nails grated across the dirt, which was moist from blood.

She could barely stand the smell.

Sounds of squelching rang out from behind her, and Vrena turned her head with such swiftness it made her dizzy.

Whoever had been behind her had thumped to the ground, unconscious. And they were never waking up again.

"Anastasia?" Vrena mumbled, quickly helping herself up.
"Get to shelter, I got it," Anastasia told her.

Anastasia shoved Vrena's dagger back into her hand.

"Right," Vrena replied. She then escorted herself off the field.

No one attacked her on the way out. Only the most confident of zombies did alone. This war was different than the ones most mortals had.

She gripped tightly onto the bloody dagger in her hand, letting out her frustration with a grunt.