Creative Writing- In the end

 He stood towering over the bodies. Blood splattered across his face as a war paint for those that decided to go against him. Smoke billowing across the town around him. Bodies lay dead around his feet. One begging for him to spare his life. It's hands gripping at his boots, smearing his blood in the mud. The cries still ringing out in the distance are much softer than when they first appeared here. In the beginning the cries were deafening. In the end they were all made of flesh that can be cut and bones that can be broken.