Because the menwere slaughtered...their blood spilt unto the soil. The old, theyoung...boys. Yet the women wept for them because the men were theirlovers, their sons, their brothers, their fathers.From village to village town to town their blood was spilled and thewomen were expected to become subservient to a sick and demented dogma. I remained loyal to Queen Hippolyta and took up arms to fight in the war.I fought with conviction for the sovereignty of the enduring. With every thrust of my blade my enemies would fall. I was charged withthe duty to hold the enemies outside of the city walls, but my legion wasoverrun and we failed.Where temples to the goddesses and gods made from stone and rock oncestood...are no more. Now dust, rubble and rocks litter the streets asnothing more than mere piles of wreckage. The aroma of death and ruin foment my nostrils. The only thing I couldwas tend to the wounded. I held my sister in my arms as she drew her lastbreath. The life in her eyes. I was walking back from a game of street hockey; I kept hitting the tennis ball up and down on my stick, when it caught the best spot on my curved stick. It flew up and soared into the duct directly above the stick. It was in the ceiling and it's cap was off (Even now I don't know the proper name of it). The ball rolled to the right. Disappointed but not broken I found a chair and poked about with my stick, knocking the ball deeper into the vent. Fuming I jumped up and managed to grab a hold of the vent. Being only 65 lbs I held on and fit with about 1 foot of space to move seeing the ball at towards an upwards shaft. I crawled towards it and picked it up. Curiosity then got the better of me, I heard noises. I climbed up the shaft about 7 feet and poked my head. I could see the blind-like cap and saw the barefeet and a dog. The feet belonged to a girl cuz of the high-pitched laughter I immediately picked up on that. I spent an hour exploring 34 apartments. From that point on I would.
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