A Song and Dance for Death

Red splashes against white and the sky weeps icy tears around me. I am the last of my kind, and these bloodthirsty monsters are determined to eradicate my species irrevocably.

I am angel and demon both, as my ancestors were before me. Because of this, my kith and kin litter the field like stars across the sky, and I see their mutilated bodies everywhere I turn. Their sightless eyes gaze towards something I cannot see, and I mourn for their souls even as I continue my dance.

My body blurs as I spin, decapitating four creatures charging at me, but eight more take their place, eyes and fangs flashing. It is futile, but still, I sing my song of death to them, and I show no clemency. Blood flows down my body from countless wounds, but all I feel is the kiss of the snow and the frozen sword in my hand. Their weapons slice the air inches from my skin, but I allow them no closer. This is not the day I die. The moon promised a peaceful death, and she has never lied to me before.

The field was white when we first stepped onto it days ago, eager for victory. Snow covered it like a down blanket, but we did not come here to rest. Or so we hoped.

Now it is red with our blood and defeat has inched closer with every falling flake.

I raise my sword and continue this dance of death.