01-16-2024, 12:56 AM
I had thought we were close to victory against the Persians. I had already killed more than I could count. But they kept coming.
All around me, swords clanked and shields warbled against spear thrusts or hard sword blows. Screams of the wounded and dying filled the air.
The sun baked our naked skin and the smell of blood filled out nostrils. I looked around of the next foot soldier to slaughter. I saw one charge at me with his spear lowered.
I grabbed his spear as he got within range, and I broke it with my sword. Holding the forward end of the weapon, I drove the spear into his stomach and my sword into his chest.
That's when it happened. As I pulled my sword from the dead man's chest, I felt the cold steel tip of a spear enter my back and force it's way through my stomach.
I arched back as the spear burrowed through my.body and saw it's bloody tip emerge from my navel. I screamed in pain and grabbed the exposed shaft.
Being a true Spartan warrior, I spun around to face the man who had started my death. He looked young, maybe in his twenties like me. His face was frozen in fear because I'm sure he hadn't expected me to turn. He was close, and I swung at him.
His exposed belly split open like a fish, and his entrails fell the ground. He shrieked in pain until I stabbed him in the neck. Blood poured from his mouth and he gagged as he fell to the grass.
I hacked his head off as he thrashed about. Suddenly, I felt the sting of an arrow bite my nipple and lodge in my rib. I looked down at my pecks and snapped the arrow off near the skin.
I felt myself weakening as I fought, the full spear still inside me. I saw an older Persian soldier run for safety as I charged at him. I was surprised by three more arrows entering my stomach.
I stopped my charge and sank to my knees, looking at my body. I was in perfect shape, a fine specimen of what a Spartan ought to look like. I couldn't help but admire the thick spear shaft and tip sticking out of my navel.
In my leather pants, my penis ached. I was hard, and my erection hurt inside my pants. I pulled down my pants and let my opponents see my manhood.
I grabbed the shaft of my penis and the shaft of the spear and began to furiouslly beat off until another, heavier arrow slammed into my chest. I fell backward, snapping the spear and driving more of the shaft through my belly.
Blood invaded my mouth and poured over my lips. My penis shot its full load onto my stomach as I clutched to the last moments of my young life. Here I was, barely twenty years old, and I was dying. I would await my wife and children on the other side. As I coughed blood into my nose and eyes, I stared into the beautiful blue sky. My final, conscious act was to hack at the back of a Persian soldier's ankle and cripple him. I heard his cries as he fell and my world turned to blackness.
All around me, swords clanked and shields warbled against spear thrusts or hard sword blows. Screams of the wounded and dying filled the air.
The sun baked our naked skin and the smell of blood filled out nostrils. I looked around of the next foot soldier to slaughter. I saw one charge at me with his spear lowered.
I grabbed his spear as he got within range, and I broke it with my sword. Holding the forward end of the weapon, I drove the spear into his stomach and my sword into his chest.
That's when it happened. As I pulled my sword from the dead man's chest, I felt the cold steel tip of a spear enter my back and force it's way through my stomach.
I arched back as the spear burrowed through my.body and saw it's bloody tip emerge from my navel. I screamed in pain and grabbed the exposed shaft.
Being a true Spartan warrior, I spun around to face the man who had started my death. He looked young, maybe in his twenties like me. His face was frozen in fear because I'm sure he hadn't expected me to turn. He was close, and I swung at him.
His exposed belly split open like a fish, and his entrails fell the ground. He shrieked in pain until I stabbed him in the neck. Blood poured from his mouth and he gagged as he fell to the grass.
I hacked his head off as he thrashed about. Suddenly, I felt the sting of an arrow bite my nipple and lodge in my rib. I looked down at my pecks and snapped the arrow off near the skin.
I felt myself weakening as I fought, the full spear still inside me. I saw an older Persian soldier run for safety as I charged at him. I was surprised by three more arrows entering my stomach.
I stopped my charge and sank to my knees, looking at my body. I was in perfect shape, a fine specimen of what a Spartan ought to look like. I couldn't help but admire the thick spear shaft and tip sticking out of my navel.
In my leather pants, my penis ached. I was hard, and my erection hurt inside my pants. I pulled down my pants and let my opponents see my manhood.
I grabbed the shaft of my penis and the shaft of the spear and began to furiouslly beat off until another, heavier arrow slammed into my chest. I fell backward, snapping the spear and driving more of the shaft through my belly.
Blood invaded my mouth and poured over my lips. My penis shot its full load onto my stomach as I clutched to the last moments of my young life. Here I was, barely twenty years old, and I was dying. I would await my wife and children on the other side. As I coughed blood into my nose and eyes, I stared into the beautiful blue sky. My final, conscious act was to hack at the back of a Persian soldier's ankle and cripple him. I heard his cries as he fell and my world turned to blackness.
