Chapter 26: Half-Blood (2)
I tear off my shirt, revealing my slightly hairy chest beneath my blue blood-stained shirt, absorbing the rain. I whistle faintly, the blood daggers at shoulder height obeying me. I step right, then left. Slowly. My shoes glide through the increasingly dense mud. The sky darkens, thunder rumbling in the distance, illuminating the horizon. I prowl through the mud like a predator, my green-orange eyes fixed on the ogre. I spread my fingers like a tiger’s paw. Veins bulge, thick as noodles. Blood boils within me. I feel warm. Warm in the cold of this dark day of war.
The battlefield is young. Only three days since the march began, yet already an Orange to contend with. I grin crookedly as the Orange charges at me. My vision is painted in shades of green, orange, and brown. My heart pounds wildly. His fist is before my front teeth, and at the last moment, I duck. The raindrops freeze, and I whistle, the blood daggers piercing through the Orange’s knees. He screams and kneels, as do I, but I prepare to strike. My veins follow my movement, and I channel my orange blood into my right fist.
Pow!
I hit, the blow louder than a revolver.
Pow!
My left follows.
Pow!
Orange blood splashes into my mouth as I laugh, pummeling the ogre.
Pow!
He dodges. Stops my fist with sheer strength. I look at him, surprised. He pushes me away, and I slide several meters over
This time, he hits me.