There Are No Heroes In War Novels & Stories

They were about who was left standing. I drained my glass, set it down carefully, and picked up my phone again. War wasn’t about battles. It was about stories. And I’d already started writing hers.

It doesn’t sound normal to say I even have a condition in the first place. It is a known fact that even horror stories have its own bitter end. In most common cases, it ends with the main character’s death. And as broken humans we always tend to look forward to the bitter end of a character who has struggled through loops and holes to get to the conclusion that though whatever that was chasing him or her defies the laws of science, it was very much alive and desperate in ensuring that he or she doesn’t come out alive. Let it end as it may be. Even heroes die in wars and monuments are made to carry their names from the northern part of the kingdom to the southern part of the kingdom. If we wa

I state, drawing her into a state of disarray. "What is on your mind now because you are scaring me?” She queries. “You don’t need to be scared. They should be.” I state it with a confusing smirk. “What are you planning, Irma?” Julie asks again, confused at my expression. In a war, everything is a weapon, whether minor or big, relevant or irrelevant. Even a stone was once used to slay a giant, and the history of the heroic David still shocks many up to date. So, let them bring the fight on! I will slay them with the nothingness of what I have.

And my mother, the woman I had always seen as a victim of circumstance, was a hero in a silent war, a secret agent of peace who had given up her life to protect the people she loved. The war was over. Not with a handshake, but with a shared, somber understanding. The two men who had been enemies for so long were now just two men united in their grief. The silence in the room was no longer filled with tension, but with the quiet, devastating weight of the truth.

I state, drawing her into a state of disarray. "What is on your mind now because you are scaring me?” She queries. “You don’t need to be scared. They should be.” I state it with a confusing smirk. “What are you planning, Irma?” Julie asks again, confused at my expression. In a war, everything is a weapon, whether minor or big, relevant or irrelevant. Even a stone was once used to slay a giant, and the history of the heroic David still shocks many up to date. So, let them bring the fight on! I will slay them with the nothingness of what I have.

She and the rest—Boone, Rod and Cynthia—had given everything in this war. They were being called heroes now, though none of them seemed fully comfortable with the title. I crossed my arms, watching quietly. I knew Vivi meant well, but I also knew what came next. Rewards. Promotions. Power. And none of us wanted any of that. We didn’t fight to climb ranks or wear medals. We fought for each other. All they wanted now was peace and a chance to go home and heal. So I stepped forward and spoke up.

Tyler rushed as he dressed, and within twenty minutes, they were in school. Tyler saw the crowd and was in shock. “Is everyone here going to watch me?” “Yes, T,” Rose said, giving a proud smile. “Tylerrr!” Olivia called, running toward him and Mr. Kola followed right behind. “You and Olivia need to get to the stage right now! We are up next.” Tyler’s heart raced. So, it’s really happening, he thought. Before he could process it, the announcer’s voice echoed across the hall: “Up next, we welcome our final group, Our host of this year’s competition. The one and only Hero community Music Centre!”

"During the ancient war, both the god and demon had perished. Our Earth was the defeated side, not because we were weak, but because we were like a pile of loose sand." "Facing the strong enemies, those heroes, unafraid of death, fought in the front when some dirty guys hid behind them. Not only did they not help, but they also hurt the heroes in the back from time to time." "In the ancient war, many heroes died, but many people were bitterly disappointed. Some people were willing to be followers of the Immortals. In the end, they helped the alien races to hurt the experts of our earth. They were worse than pigs and dogs. They deserve to die ten thousand deaths."

her father would rage about it often on nights when we ventured to the pits, he and our uncle's ranting and joking. He would talk of the disloyalty of modern governments, deeming the cause worthy for other men to lay their lives down. Now war was only for guns and nations. not honor, not protection, not sacrifice. There was no justice in modern war, and justice had been outlawed when it went into the hands of men who were only motivated by money. "And so, we answer." someone said. Silence. yet no one disagreed. So, they would fallow the red-haired girl to war.