Moshi Moshi, mina-san! This is a new story that I sort of conceived on my way to Florida a few weeks ago. Recently I've fallen in love with both the book and the movie, Gone with the Wind. They have inspired me beyond belief. I just want everyone to know that everything, such as battles, clothing, etiquette, social standing, etc, will be as correct as possible. I am gifted with a loving father who knows almost everything about the Civil War and a home library of Civil War, Time Life Books. So being the little History lover that I am... :: Runs up and whispers in your ear:: The Legend of the Sun and the Moon ::goes back to sitting in chair:: I have finally come through to start a story about the Civil War. Trust me, I have been waiting to write a story like this for like three years... But I've never gotten a good love story to blossom... ::Dum Dum Dum:: Until now!

Title: For the Pride of Them All

Author: The Lunar Witch

Rating: R (This story is rated a low R. It consists of Adult Language, Adult Content, and Violence)

Published: 2/19/03

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June 9th 1861,

Deep and ragged breathing was heard all around the train car as men moaned, groaned, and died in the small area. The air smelled foal, of blood, of urine, of death and there was no way of escaping for he was in the pit of it all.

He was not wounded nor sick. His mind was not delirious from the battle that had taken place nor the terrible conditions he had withstood for the last three days. But he was tired. Tired of the smell and of the men dressed in their gray uniforms. Tired of their stupidity and their gentlemen like exterior that was almost as clear to see through as glass itself.

He wanted out of the hell that he had been thrown in and the hell he would endure when he arrived at the prison camp, Castle Pinckney. So in a bitter attempt to free himself from the destiny that had been forced upon him he looked to the Confederate guard that sat up toward the front of the car. On his belt were a set of skeleton style keys which would unlock both the chains around his ankles and the door to the outside. There was no better time than then for the soldier had fallen asleep but minutes before and now snored softly through his wide and hair covered mouth.

The Yankee stood quickly from his sitting position across from the sliding door to freedom and carefully stepped over his sleeping comrades. The Confederate stirred and the Yankee stopped. The last thing he need was for the fool to wake up and discover him. When the gray clothed man settled himself back into a peaceful sleep the Yankee started quietly yet again. He finally made it to the guard's side to find that the keys were not on his belt at all but just laying on the haired covered soldier's lap waiting to be plucked from their resting spot. The Yankee rolled his eyes as he proved to himself again that the Confederate soldiers were just as dim-witted as they had seemed.

The young man ran a hand through his jet black hair wiping away any droplets of water that might have accumulated on his soft browned skin then held his breath as he leaned over the sleeping soldier for the keys that he possessed. He took hold of the clanking mettle pieces with great relief and pulled away. In a careless attempt to just get free he hurried to bend down and unlock the padlock that bound his ankles. Remembering himself the Yankee slowed his pace as to make less of a clatter and when he was finally free rushed to the side door where he fumbled to unlock the door.

The door slid open and yet the soldier had not arisen. He was about to jump out to safety when he heard a the hammer on a pistol being cocked from behind him. He turned finding the Confederate soldier standing right up holding the gun and aiming it towards his chest. "Sit yerself right back down. Or Ah swear to the god almighty Ah'll shoot, ya Damn Yankee." The soldier glared at the young man as little drops of saliva dripped down his knotted beard. He motioned with his weapon for the escapee to situate himself but before he had time to even bring his gun back to a correct aiming point he was hit on the head from behind.

A grayed haired soldier smiled a toothless smile and pointed for the young man to jump out. "Go!" He yelled with a raspy voice. "Go and kill every single one of them."

The younger Yankee turned to jump from the moving train when he heard a shoot. He turned quick enough to see the much older Yankee soldier fall to the floor as blood and brains spilled from his skull. Another shot sounded and a thousand needles pierced his skin all at once as he fell from the train. He felt as though time had stopped for a moment, that nothing would ever move nor feel again. As he hit the ground time burst forward with what seemed like more force then the bullet had produced. He rolled a few times over sharp, jagged grass then finally hit his head on a rock sending him into an instant world of complete darkness.