Ragnar had been trying.
Giving his best to somehow escape the well of despair that he had fallen into after gaining back control of his mind and body from that bastard’s clutches.
Even though he gained his freedom because of the Rift, he still did not have the liberty to make any choices of his own. His only option was to enter the Rift.
But Ragnar still did not break. He still had hope. Maybe, just maybe, the Rift would show him salvation and finally give his life a purpose, anything would be better than being someone else’s lapdog.
By now Ragnar’s laugh had already come to a halt. He listlessly stared at the Crystal ball that had turned pitch black.
In that ball, his reflection still had a wide grin, as if mocking him, for actually trying.
'That’s right, why did I think that this time would be any different, after everything fate had thrown at me, how could I be so foolish?'
In those mocking eyes of his, he saw his past flashing by, reminding him, of what this world had offered him.
From a young child who saw his brother turn into a shifted abomination and then rip apart his parents right in front of his eyes, only to leave him alive for some reason.
To being adopted by a slave trader, who sold him to the bastard Vorlock who turned him into his personal killing machine, leaving him powerless to resist.
Humans were wicked creatures, since the only thing keeping him sane all these years was the fact that he was not suffering alone. He had a friend-his only friend in the past 11 years. Also being the only person Ragnar conversed with other than the bastard who owned them. His name was Tristan.
He was also going through the same fate as Ragnar and serving as Vorlock’s slave. Acting like each other’s tether to humanity, they kept each other going even after all those countless bloody battles and torturous training.
Well at least for Ragnar that was the case, since Tristan always seemed calm and collected even in the worst situations, even when he was being tortured in the most inhumane way possible. Tristan could also be accredited for teaching Ragnar almost 90% of all the knowledge he had.
But… he also met the same fate as Ragnar’s parents two years ago when one day, he didn’t manage to return from one of his missions.
Since then, Ragnar had only been a soulless husk that had no purpose other than following what that bastard told him to do. That was until today when the Rift caused his body and mind to show signs of mutation. The mutation somehow messed up the mental hex that the slave trader had put on him, setting him free
But it came crashing with the mental toll of everything he had done in his life as that bastard’s slave, threatening to shatter his mind into pieces.
He remembered how the slave trader turned him into a slave at the small age of 7. He was then told to follow every order of that bastard, Vorlock, and ignore it if anyone tries to remind him of the mental hex. He mindlessly followed every order that was given to him and became a cold, ruthless killer who wouldn’t hesitate, no matter who he was killing.
The expressions that appeared in the eyes of people he had killed flashed through his mind.
A child, even younger than him at that time, happened to be his first kill target. When he used his dagger to slit the throat of that kid, there was no hesitation in his movements. Because that was his order, to never hesitate when dealing the finishing blow, so he didn’t.
Although that was the first and only time he was made to kill a child which was to test his capabilities, that one still left a deep scar in his psyche. He could not imagine any crime that such a small child could have committed.
That was what he told himself in order to gain a sense of righteousness. He was hoping it would help him cope with the hundreds of targets that came after the first one.
But it didn’t.
Because he knew, he knew it very well that the bastard who made him commit these acts couldn’t be anything but evil, the worst kind of evil there is. Hence, the people he was made to kill could not be all evil too.
When the Rift got rid of the mental hex for him, he also remembered how some of the orders given to him were along the lines of forgetting that he was even a slave. He was to ignore all thoughts on this topic and act as if following that bastard’s orders was the most natural thing to do.
He realised that he had been acting as a slave, listening to and fulfilling every order given by his master without ever doubting it, thinking it was exactly what he was meant to do.
Can there be a fate worse than that?
But what stung him the most was that a small part of him felt that he was better off never knowing the truth. Then, at least he wouldn’t be feeling completely lost and vulnerable like he was now.
He had no idea what he was supposed to do with himself. There was no place left in this world he could return to. And he definitely wasn’t going to return to become that bastard’s pet again.
Then it hit him, that this choice was also made for him and his only option was to enter the Rift.
So, he came here thinking of different methods he would use to torture that bastard but now, even that chance was taken away from him.
Then, what should he do now?
Was he just going to die after everything that he had suffered through? Can he let it end just like this? Well, did he even have a choice?
Beth also looked frustrated from the result of the test. She could see by his state that he had already been through a lot in his life. Now this was how his life was going to end.
More than 5 minutes had already passed since the crystal ball changed its colour to black.
Beth and Ragnar were the only people left in the hall. But she had not spoken yet, as if respecting the fact that he needs time to absorb the reality and brutality of the situation.
At this moment she finally decided to break the silence that the hall had fallen into, speaking in her professional voice that now had a dark undertone,
“What will you choose Ragnar? By dying here, you not only get to return to the soil that birthed you but you can also decrease one potential threat for the other Walkers. If you choose to die … then I promise to give you a painless death. But…”
Reaching this point, she paused to let him digest her words, then a fierce grin split her face as she continued sharply.
“You can also choose to enter the Rift and kill, until there are no enemies left to kill.”
She barrelled on, not giving him time to process her words since she knew his choice already.
“Tell me Ragnar, what do you choose?”
Ragnar finally moved his gaze away from the crystal ball and peered straight into Beth’s hazel eyes. For some reason, they looked much more enchanting than he remembered. They shined like the brightest stars that questioned him, 'do you still have any fight left in you or was that all?'
He did not get the chance to think this time as the answer flowed out of his mouth on its own,
“I choose … to kill.”
Realising what he had chosen, A wistful smile appeared on his face, which was the second time he had smiled now, after all those years...
‘Giving up and dying after all that would be lame, I guess.’
Without further hesitation, Ragnar shambled towards the Rift on unsteady feet.
When he was almost there and about to jump in, he heard Beth’s voice for the last time that sounded like a farewell,
“Give them hell.”
Ragnar raised his hand up high and turned it into a fist. Even though it wasn’t a lot, Ragnar was thankful for what Beth had done.
He stared at the intertwining black and white energies, listening to their haunting call beckoning him forth. With a deep breath, He leapt into their awaiting grasp.
The energies parted to let him in and then devoured him like a hungry maw.
Ragnar had been trying.
Giving his best to somehow escape the well of despair that he had fallen into after gaining back control of his mind and body from that bastard’s clutches.
Even though he gained his freedom because of the Rift, he still did not have the liberty to make any choices of his own. His only option was to enter the Rift.
But Ragnar still did not break. He still had hope. Maybe, just maybe, the Rift would show him salvation and finally give his life a purpose, anything would be better than being someone else’s lapdog.
By now Ragnar’s laugh had already come to a halt. He listlessly stared at the Crystal ball that had turned pitch black.
In that ball, his reflection still had a wide grin, as if mocking him, for actually trying.
'That’s right, why did I think that this time would be any different, after everything fate had thrown at me, how could I be so foolish?'
In those mocking eyes of his, he saw his past flashing by, reminding him, of what this world had offered him.
From a young child who saw his brother turn into a shifted abomination and then rip apart his parents right in front of his eyes, only to leave him alive for some reason.
To being adopted by a slave trader, who sold him to the bastard Vorlock who turned him into his personal killing machine, leaving him powerless to resist.
Humans were wicked creatures, since the only thing keeping him sane all these years was the fact that he was not suffering alone. He had a friend-his only friend in the past 11 years. Also being the only person Ragnar conversed with other than the bastard who owned them. His name was Tristan.
He was also going through the same fate as Ragnar and serving as Vorlock’s slave. Acting like each other’s tether to humanity, they kept each other going even after all those countless bloody battles and torturous training.
Well at least for Ragnar that was the case, since Tristan always seemed calm and collected even in the worst situations, even when he was being tortured in the most inhumane way possible. Tristan could also be accredited for teaching Ragnar almost 90% of all the knowledge he had.
But… he also met the same fate as Ragnar’s parents two years ago when one day, he didn’t manage to return from one of his missions.
Since then, Ragnar had only been a soulless husk that had no purpose other than following what that bastard told him to do. That was until today when the Rift caused his body and mind to show signs of mutation. The mutation somehow messed up the mental hex that the slave trader had put on him, setting him free
But it came crashing with the mental toll of everything he had done in his life as that bastard’s slave, threatening to shatter his mind into pieces.
He remembered how the slave trader turned him into a slave at the small age of 7. He was then told to follow every order of that bastard, Vorlock, and ignore it if anyone tries to remind him of the mental hex. He mindlessly followed every order that was given to him and became a cold, ruthless killer who wouldn’t hesitate, no matter who he was killing.
The expressions that appeared in the eyes of people he had killed flashed through his mind.
A child, even younger than him at that time, happened to be his first kill target. When he used his dagger to slit the throat of that kid, there was no hesitation in his movements. Because that was his order, to never hesitate when dealing the finishing blow, so he didn’t.
Although that was the first and only time he was made to kill a child which was to test his capabilities, that one still left a deep scar in his psyche. He could not imagine any crime that such a small child could have committed.
That was what he told himself in order to gain a sense of righteousness. He was hoping it would help him cope with the hundreds of targets that came after the first one.
But it didn’t.
Because he knew, he knew it very well that the bastard who made him commit these acts couldn’t be anything but evil, the worst kind of evil there is. Hence, the people he was made to kill could not be all evil too.
When the Rift got rid of the mental hex for him, he also remembered how some of the orders given to him were along the lines of forgetting that he was even a slave. He was to ignore all thoughts on this topic and act as if following that bastard’s orders was the most natural thing to do.
He realised that he had been acting as a slave, listening to and fulfilling every order given by his master without ever doubting it, thinking it was exactly what he was meant to do.
Can there be a fate worse than that?
But what stung him the most was that a small part of him felt that he was better off never knowing the truth. Then, at least he wouldn’t be feeling completely lost and vulnerable like he was now.
He had no idea what he was supposed to do with himself. There was no place left in this world he could return to. And he definitely wasn’t going to return to become that bastard’s pet again.
Then it hit him, that this choice was also made for him and his only option was to enter the Rift.
So, he came here thinking of different methods he would use to torture that bastard but now, even that chance was taken away from him.
Then, what should he do now?
Was he just going to die after everything that he had suffered through? Can he let it end just like this? Well, did he even have a choice?
Beth also looked frustrated from the result of the test. She could see by his state that he had already been through a lot in his life. Now this was how his life was going to end.
More than 5 minutes had already passed since the crystal ball changed its colour to black.
Beth and Ragnar were the only people left in the hall. But she had not spoken yet, as if respecting the fact that he needs time to absorb the reality and brutality of the situation.
At this moment she finally decided to break the silence that the hall had fallen into, speaking in her professional voice that now had a dark undertone,
“What will you choose Ragnar? By dying here, you not only get to return to the soil that birthed you but you can also decrease one potential threat for the other Walkers. If you choose to die … then I promise to give you a painless death. But…”
Reaching this point, she paused to let him digest her words, then a fierce grin split her face as she continued sharply.
“You can also choose to enter the Rift and kill, until there are no enemies left to kill.”
She barrelled on, not giving him time to process her words since she knew his choice already.
“Tell me Ragnar, what do you choose?”
Ragnar finally moved his gaze away from the crystal ball and peered straight into Beth’s hazel eyes. For some reason, they looked much more enchanting than he remembered. They shined like the brightest stars that questioned him, 'do you still have any fight left in you or was that all?'
He did not get the chance to think this time as the answer flowed out of his mouth on its own,
“I choose … to kill.”
Realising what he had chosen, A wistful smile appeared on his face, which was the second time he had smiled now, after all those years...
‘Giving up and dying after all that would be lame, I guess.’
Without further hesitation, Ragnar shambled towards the Rift on unsteady feet.
When he was almost there and about to jump in, he heard Beth’s voice for the last time that sounded like a farewell,
“Give them hell.”
Ragnar raised his hand up high and turned it into a fist. Even though it wasn’t a lot, Ragnar was thankful for what Beth had done.
He stared at the intertwining black and white energies, listening to their haunting call beckoning him forth. With a deep breath, He leapt into their awaiting grasp.
The energies parted to let him in and then devoured him like a hungry maw.
