Death was everywhere. Covering every piece of ground were mutilated corpses. Swords impaled in many of the soldiers' bodies, dark blood oozing onto the ground.

For the longest of time I stood there staring emotionless at the gruesome sight before me. The loud sounds of clashing swords filled my ears. I glanced down at my hands, expecting to see them covered with the warm, sticky blood that seemed to be everywhere. There wasn't any. None, whatsoever.

"Why does it not surprise me?" I mumbled softly. Nothing seems to make sense anymore, I thought. I walked over to the center of the battlefield, indifferent to the loud groaning of pain below me. Not that I wanted to, but I had to. It was the only way to retain some form of sanity. The cause of the soldier's increased pain was not me. I was mildly surprised to see my baggy white pants merely phase through the cold corpses that littered the ground. It remained untainted by the foolishly spilt blood. Instead of feeling a cold body, I felt nothing. Nothing at all but emptiness. That feeling of cold detachment to the world shouldn't be there, but it was.

I could not recall anything. No, I do remember something. It's just nothing understandable. All that existed in my mind were tiny fragments of war-ravaged past. "Perhaps the battle can piece them together," An icy voice whispered. The voice seemed so lifeless that had I been someone else, chills would have scaled my spine. No chill wrecked my body. After all, a person can't be afraid of his own voice.

Bloody corpses littered the ground all around me, dislocated arms, stabbed eyes and ripped stomachs. Blood dominated the scene, no matter where I looked. Dead bodies piled up in mounds and dying soldiers gasping for life as they breathed their last.

Dark red liquid poured mercilessly from the men's bodies forming a pool around them. I knelt down to touch one of the thick pools, praying that it wasn't what I knew it was, soldier's blood but my pale hand met nothing. It merely phased through the wounded boy's head as if it didn't exist. I wondered why I couldn't touch him, but ultimately blamed it on the craziness of the war. Perhaps I had touched him, I just couldn't tell.

I glanced up to find two soldiers wearing their respected tattered uniforms slashing at each other madly. I don't even think they even knew why they were doing so. Dark stains covered their light gray and navy blue uniforms. The weak brown haired general leaned heavily on his blood-covered long sword. "Damn you soldier...for following your leader into invading our peaceful country...." His hair was matted with the grime of war.

The other soldier was sprawled on the ground panting. He struggled to sit up as he grabbed for his fallen sword. "Ungh..hehehe...d..damn you t.t..too!" He gasped in large breaths as though he hurt with every fiber of his body.

The former smirked ferociously as he raised the sword above his head and slashed down. There was an odd sound as the other's head separated from his body. Then he continued to stab the headless body again, again, and again. The madness had finally reached him. Coughing fitfully he walked away from the dissembled corpse. Some time later, I couldn't tell, he fell down on top of another corpse, his head landing on the one of the soldier's dissembled arms...and remained motionless.

I did nothing as I watched the two opposing soldiers die. "No survivors.." another voice lamented. It wasn't mine. I turned away from the deceased generals to the voice and saw many others. They each wore a plain white uniform devoid of any ranking or side and all seemed somewhat translucent. The sight did not scare me for I had finally remembered. I smiled softly. "Ghosts..." We were all ghosts. There were no sides or enemies, we were equal. However, the pure whiteness was slowly turning gray or blue and hateful gleams were beginning to populate each eye. The men squared off, returning to their sides. I joined my friends in blue and awaited the generals' commands. "CHARGE!" I grimaced, the battle had begun.

The End.