A great war cry rose rose from the trenches, a harrowing sound that chilled the blood of all who heard it. Weakened and battle-weary, I forced myself to fight on against all odds.
My enemy grinned, a knowing gleam in her bleary eyes. I called for reinforcements but he soon succumbed to fatigue, too broken to fight on.
I gathered the last of my energy and pulled out my final weapon: food. Flailing like a berserker on PCP, she fought even that attempt until, at last, her tiny fists uncoiled, giving way to the inevitable. Her eyelids fluttered closed, leaving no trace of her fury behind.
Bruised and bloodied from her frantic clawing, I stared at her limp body, afraid to breath lest I wake the sleeping beast.