Creative Writing: The War On Ancient Greece

I rose awake out of a deep period of unconsciousness. Rising to my feet, my inanimate body collapsed due to the burdensome shackles bound to my ankles and wrists. The deafening sound of applause and caterwaul superior to my head became louder as my eyes came to. I examined my surroundings trying to envision what or to that matter who brought me to this scummy cell beneath the ground. Prior to the night before, I can only commemorate where I was and who I was with for only a short while. After that, my mind went untouched, almost empty. But I may have come to reason why I am here. It was about three days since the war on Ancient Greece; Humoured by the failed attempts they provided on us Romans, I raised my wine glass in hopes of victorious
Our village that had been raided and abandoned, savaged by these barbaric imbeciles.- Taking our women from right under our feet and removing the food from our children’s mouths. It was my call to be sent out onto my sojourn that would save all of Rome. But with preliminaries comes error. There have been countless times where the Greek have killed our men and been given victory, leaving us Romans to be cast out by our own kind. My last and essentially my final thought was to wreak havoc on all of Ancient Greece. If it is the last thing I do. Nevertheless, it seems to be one of the top things on my To-Do list since I’ve brought myself to such a formidable situation. Here I sit in the very chains I avoided all these years.The days had went by before the slightest sign of life or interaction had come within feet of the iron door that sealed me in this hell. At the sound of keys clamoring, I hoisted my weight against a wall and listened. Relatively minutes after, an ogre esque man changed his large body through the doors and proceeded right on pass me. I
Searching for my wife’s presence, I slid out of the tent and through the woods. What am I to do? My own brother eradicated me from my family, my children, and even from him. I sank down leaning against a tree and shoved my face into my hands weeping softly. I might be hurt, but no man will ever see me upset. No one ever will see me cry. After my sobs had discontinued, I listened closely as Abella’s shrieks erupted afar in the village calling for my name. The last tear from my eye rolled down my cheek and I wiped it away angrily. The anger inside me roared loudly, wanting to be let out. I balled my fists up tightly until my hands faded into a dark crimson. My blood boiled inside of me like a hot road that the sun had been beaming down on for decades. I can’t believe that I’ve left my wife again… Only to disappoint her in addition to before. The only thought that continued to sweep over my mind was: Find king Peisinoë, kill him, and return with me his head. I plodded off with fire in my eyes, and for the first time I felt my heart do something. I wasn’t sure exactly what it did, but it created some sort of action and that pleased me enough. I began to question myself knowing that there would be mere consequences for every single decision that I