>>5134
I corner the woman with the bow in the courtyard of the fort. Her allies are all but defeated, and my comrades surround her with their swords drawn. She hisses and spits like an alley cat confronted by a guard dog, her eyes wild and hateful.

Myranda stared up defiantly at the enemy soldiers, her hands clasped around her dagger. She looked around, and all she could see were grinning gazes wandering across her athletic, curvy body.

She grimaced, and threw the dagger aside. Getting onto her knees, she held her hands up in surrender. Like all women, she knew that men on the war path were lustful bastards who'd have their way with any hole with a pulse. If giving up her pride meant survival though, she'd take it.

The woman kneeled before me. She began to undo the front of her gown, revealing her firm, perky breasts.

The woman closed her eyes, an expression of disgust on her face. I grip my sword and decide to heal her of her shame.

With all my strength, I swing my blade against her graceful neck, slicing through it in one go.

Her head toppled over and fell into her lap, a slim string of skin and muscle keeping the head tethered to her shoulders.

Twin jets of bright red blood spraying out and covering me and the ground in a 4 meter radius from the front of her body.

Her half nude body slumped over, the jets of blood rapidly slowing down to a simple dribble.

I lean over and pick up her head by her glossy brunette hair, raising it in front of my friends. A look of dull confusion is frozen on her face, her luscious lips and chin crusted with blood and her eyes half lidded.





2nd LT Anett Hosenfeld of the NVA has had her MiG-21 TSF disabled. Finish her off.