Well, here's part two. Sorry it took so long. :)
The first thing you did was open your eyes. Everything was dark. You stood up, surprising the soldiers who had been holding you up. You struck one in the throat, and he fell to his knees, clutching his neck and gasping for breath. You kicked the other in the groin, kicked his head when he collapsed, and took his sword.
More soldiers came, and you can't quite remember how you fought them off. You have vague memories of blood and fire. You remember the rage that boiled inside of you, bubbling over and burning anyone in your path. You don't know how many people—no, monsters, you tell yourself—you killed that day, and you don't care. Details are blurry, but you remember one thing clearly:
Red.
Everything became red. Your friends died in it. You enemies wore it. And you, you were bathed in it. The red draped itself over your world, a crimson filter covering your eyes and discoloring your surroundings. You fought with reckless abandon, a man with nothing left to lose.
You found yourself alone, at last. You were breathing heavy, covered in a sheen of slick sweat and sticky blood. You killed them, just like they killed your fighters. Just like they killed you.
There was no moon, nor were there any stars. The thick clouds blanketing the night sky began to drizzle, then rain, then pour. Heavy raindrops pelted your skin, and you relished it, feeling the cool cleansing water wash the blood and sweat and death off your body.
You didn't bury them, your fighters. Even if you'd had time, there wasn't much left of them to bury. Instead, you dropped to your knees and prayed to a god you weren't sure you believed in, asking him to take care of these poor souls. You said a prayer for each and every charred and unrecognizable body, each lost friend and comrade.
You left. You weren't sure where you were going. You ran away, ran and ran and ran until your legs gave out and the sun came up. You hadn't eaten in three days, and you were bruised and scratched and sore and bloody, and you were crying, but you were alive.
And damn you to hell if you were gonna waste that.
END.