All around me were corpses, corpses of all types. Of the elderly, of the children, of the fittest soldiers. There was one thing in common with them though. It was that look in their eyes. As if that even in death they did not know their ultimate fate.
As if their personalities were entirely erased up and until their final moments. It was why I strode through their corpses with care. I neither touched them nor did I grace them with emotion.
Instead I took a different approach. Only stepping over them and ignoring them as if they were nothing.
It was hard to do that, the corpses had piled up into mountainous proportions, even still I was determined to keep them preserved. They may have been dead in both body and soul but they deserved at least that modicum of respect.
