The Last Devil

Excellence Award in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

My army against his army, heavenly light against eternal darkness, now that my father is dead I Jasera Molière have to fight the Devil itself, Azarath, he challenged my father to a duel and killed him it was not fair why did he have to leave? My Mother died when I was two. Now I am alone because of him, he must die. I must destroy him, stop his reign of terror. All of his minions must die, none of them shall live.
He awoke terrified from his vision. He couldn’t believe what he had to do. He guessed it was inevitable light would always have to beat the dark. Evil would always have to lose but why did he have to beat it. Why did he have to fight the evil incarnate? Why couldn’t someone else do it, it was unfair. He went into the kitchen where his servant was waiting, “Master I was worried you weren’t going to wake up,” Dioraryu said very croakily.
“Don’t worry I am okay,” He said.
“What did you see sir.”
“My death, I am sorry to leave you Dioraryu.”
“It is okay I always knew you would have to go master Azarath sir.”
Azarath couldn’t believe he had to fight Jasera Molière the evil that corrupts the world. He would have to build the army that he had seen in his vision; the soldiers would have to be trained. For months he trudged the wastelands of Hell looking for anyone willing to join his cause but now one wanted to, everyone was just too scared of Jasera, except for one. He was not scared; he did not fear or cower at the opportunity but instead was excited to prove himself. After him others came many others they trained and trained and trained to perfection.
They would not stop there, they would have to learn every fighting style, learn how to use every firearm, every bladed weapon. They would have to perfect fighting as a whole, they would have to perfect every part of fighting to win otherwise they would crumble under his might, otherwise they would not leave the battlefield alive.
When it was time they were ready, it would be the fight of their lives, the last stand against all evil they would win, and they had to win for the survival of all good. The battle lasted for days many men were brutally murdered and other were de-limed, be-headed or killed in other less brutal ways. Sadly one of Azarath’s men went crazy and started to eat his enemies. When all hope was lost Azarath finally realised what he had to do, he recalled his vision, and he had told Dioraryu that he had seen his death that was this was his death. He turned to his men and said “No matter what I do, do not fear, do not come to my aid just keep Jasera’s men occupied,”
Then he charged forward at Jasera Molière. What accounted from this was the fight of a lifetime the bloodiest, goriest gut fest ever, by the end neither warrior was left alive or even intact. The funeral was then the next day. Everyone was weeping all of his living men were there to honour their saviour. The most horrible part was the fact that Azarath’s daughter was born the day before he died.

FOLLOW US


25

Write4Fun.net was established in 1997, and since then we have successfully completed numerous short story and poetry competitions and publications.
We receive an overwhelming positive feedback each year from the teachers, parents and students who have involvement in these competitions and publications, and we will continue to strive to attain this level of excellence with each competition we hold.

KEEP IN TOUCH

Stay informed about the latest competitions, competition winners and latest news!