She drank alone.
Yes, something not that odd. After all, its a common occurrence in her life. And, yes, she considered it a life. Perhaps not one that all would enjoy, but she did. Perhaps it was the blood, the screams. Perhaps even the pain that others suffer at her hands.
And, perhaps, that is why she drank alone.
Bloodthirsty. Blood whore. Bitch. All names used in reference to her. But, one was missing. The one name that few knew her as. Her real name.
She didn't offer it. Why should she? She had earned her rank, they can use that when addressing her. And, few did address her, not unless she was given an order, or giving them herself. She was the killing machine of the army. The engine.
Few even knew her real name. Something lost over time. The few veterans alive didn't even remember it. She had outlived the ones that would have remembered her early days. Few could even remember ever seeing her out of her armor, so what's a name?
Her eyes move over the lounge, taking in the soldiers in here. She finds it amusing how they avoid her. She could be their deaths, or their saviour. And, they know it.
But, then, she grows weary of the army. She grows weary of being on this side. Perhaps she will become someone else's army 'engine.' Perhaps, she will become someone else's headache. She doesn't really care. She isn't in it for the prestige, the rotten pay. She is in it for the bloodshed, for the pain. She enjoys holding life in her hands. Enjoys ending it.
Perhaps this is her last battle. And, just perhaps, she will be the death of her own army. Whichever, she grows tired of drinking alone...
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written by Gabby