The End of All Hope
by the March Hare

There is no substitute for true loyalty save utter slavery.

Jasmine pulled her sword down, eviscerating the man. A shower of organs fell upon her, but she cared not, exhaustion finally getting to her. Removing her blade, she poked her nose out of the foul smelling mess and breathed. The air was not fresh, saturated as it was with the refuse of war, but her body needed life, and so she forced each breath to draw some existence out of the polluted atmosphere. Just then, a horseman rode by, severing her head from her shoulders. The last thing she saw was the Sun being shadowed by the clouds.

You can give no less than your all, and even that may not be enough.

Prince Philip felt Samson die as the crossbow bolt entered his friend's heart. The noble man fell, and landed on his head. His world blurred as he raised himself from the bloodied earth. His hand was only able to touch his sword before a mace brained him from behind. His last thought was that Aurora would have no time to flee the coming horde.

Will is the byproduct of faith, which is only as effective as you are naive.

Ray the Firefly saw the sky blacken as a volley of arrows leveled the courtyard. Some had no chance to scream, others had hours to do so. He began to fly back to the castle, but a massive rock was sent flying over the wall, launched by a trebuchet. It smashed the inner sanctum to pieces, exposing the woman and children to the oncoming army. The outer gates cracked against a battering ram, and Ray could see the blades of the foe gleaming in the uncaring sun.

Your voice may be heard, but it does not mean it will be heeded.

Adam had turned his back on his humanity to protect his kingdom, his friends, and his true love, his saving angel. Now, his beastly form was filled with spears and sword blades. Each breath came as a burden. His vision blurred, but his rage still boiled. A second wave had been coming, but suddenly stopped. Adam took it as a sign they feared him, but as a fiery, green ball came plowing down at him, he suddenly had a realization. With his flesh melting and eyes gone, he could only hear the horde cry and charge again. With one last roar, he launched himself forward blindly

Cowardice and honor are always decided by the winner.

Maximus charged onward, delivering a message that had to be heard. They had already shot Eugene off his back, but by the stars he would make it! If he could, then the reinforcing army would know of the trap that had been laid for them, and avoid disaster. As he came up on a hill, he hit a trip wire, and a blade came down upon him. Nearly losing his head, he neighed in anger as he realized that the blade had cut into his shoulder. Ignoring the pain, he moved on. No mere wound would stop him! Several days later, a few survivors of the reinforcing army that had fled the ambush came upon a white horse with a message in its satchel. Upon further inspection, they found a cut on its shoulder that had been polluted with poison, probably from the weapon that made the cut.

In the game of life, you are either the pawn or the player who does not see the hand that moves them.

Mulan swore as the arrow nicked her side. It was a superficial wound, but one of many that was costing her valuable blood and energy. Mulan pulled a spear off her back and launched it at the archer, sending him yelping off the wall. At her back, Phoebus hacked an underling to pieces, only to have another dig a dagger into his gut. Kneeing the man in the groin, he decapitated the enemy soldier and pulled the dagger out of his stomach. Acid and blood flowed out freely, stinging his flesh. The parapets were littered with corpses of the noble and the fiendish. Looking over the remains of the fortress, Mulan's heart sank even further. "We've lost, haven't we?" Phoebus inquired, somehow hoping for another answer. Mulan did not reply, only observing that the villainous horde was still coming, with no end in sight.

Either you obey, or you rule, or you're dead.

Mickey sat upon is throne, his face still like that of a graveyard angel's. Outside the walls of throne room the last of his forces were being slaughtered.

"Well, played, Pegleg," he bitterly mused, as the door to the chamber was being battered upon. "Well played."

Written for fun; published for kicks. Thank you for reading, have a nice day. Review if you like.

Disclaimer: I do not own Disney or any of its characters, nor did I make money off this story.

P.S. To all my readers of Vip, it will not be much longer now.