No. 3/100 100-word short stories for my 100 follower celebration!
The Terror of Tyrus stood in the remains of a ruined world, ashes swirling around him like a raging blizzard.
The filter firmly strapped over his nose and mouth should have sterilised the air he breathed,
but a bitter taste coated his tongue nevertheless, like he could swallow his heinous deeds and the poisonous words that people had shouted at him.
Emptiness. It wasn’t something the Terror of Tyrus would ever admit to, but it was what filled the terrified man who had once been called Destry as he gazed at the destruction he’d caused.
Would it ever be enough?
. . .
I thought of this story while considering the futility of destruction. In war, everyone loses.
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