Weakness spears into the body, injecting its poison into the entire system. A battleground becomes a living, breathing site inside, burrowing its way into the heart. I can feel every shot that ricochets against the chest, every cannon blast that rattles the entire body, leaving a dull ache behind. The raging battle wrenches me inside. The dead lay scattered, blood gushing up from the ground. The soil long since sickened with the iron filled liquid. Screams penetrate my ears, breath a foreign concept to the afflicted individuals. The clinging scent is overpowering. A combination of decaying flesh, ripe vomit, and blood. The stink of blood filters in, substantial enough to sit on and coat the tongue. Pain thrusts into my chest, blood spreading
