Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. What the fuck am I doing?! What the fuck is going on?!
No time, sword! There’s a fucking sword, heading for my god damn face!
I moved and oh my fucking god I have claws and I killed someone and I’m a demon and- Focus on the sword you fucking idiot!
Time seemed to slow down as a hardened sharpened piece of death cleaved through the air, aiming to take my newly regained life away. I felt the desire to scream in panic and a stronger desire to massacre the person in front of me. My emotions felt in utter turmoil, complete and total fucking chaos warring against each other. I had only been partially present up until now and now it was like waking from a very long dream or reading from a textbook, only to find out that everything is suddenly very real.
The rape, the killing, the blood, the fucking sword!
As I sidestepped it, I couldn’t help but feel my eyes grow wide and my heart nearly stop. A, it was right fucking next to me! B. I managed to actually sidestep a god damn sword in mid swing. It felt like I was underwater. No, not me nor felt like, the sword was moving like it was underwater.
No time to question it!
I felt my tail (mother of god, I have a tail!), and flexed it forward, hoping for something to happen.
And it did. Oh god, it did.
I could feel my tail as it cracked through the air, as it plunged into and out the back of the man’s neck, as he seemed to stiffen and keep moving by momentum, as my own face morphed into one of horror.
A scream rose and died in my throat, my own emotions feeling like a bomb had exploded and imploded. I didn’t have any weird mental way to tell how my mind was doing now but I was pretty sure I was freaking the fuck out.
Pulling my tail out, which was more instinctive than anything, and watching a geyser of blood shoot out of a man’s neck and pour over me, was the final straw.
“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”
I killed a man? No, another man? Blood, oh god the blood. Oh god. Oh fucking god. It all seemed to be happening in slow motion. The drip and flying of the blood, the man slowly, oh so fucking slowly, falling to the ground, the sword clattering as it hit the ground. It was like someone had made everything go in slow motion, till finally, as I stared with horrified eyes, the man hit the grass with a thump.
Time seemed to fully freeze, an eternity passing, where no one said or did a thing. My body had turned at my attack, yet my eyes never left the dead man on the ground. It felt like raging rapids were trying to break my head. Just, he had died just like that? I, I had killed? Killed again? What. What? What?
Time was like the worst torture I could have ever asked for. My thoughts ran wild and free and fast but permanently stuck in an endless loop.
‘He’s dead? I killed him? I killed, again?’
That must have ran through my head a thousand times, before finally new thoughts started to barge in. Namely ‘What the fuck was that?’ Because I looked over at movement that nearly wiped my brain clean right off the map.
The Baron had moved.
For a second my brain couldn’t even compute, not even a concept of an idea passing through it. Just white noise and fuzz. My vision felt like it was going white, like I was going to pass out, as my heart beat so loud and fast in my ears that I couldn’t imagine anything louder. Not a rock concert, not an explosion, just my heart. Over and over again, feeling like my ears were exploding and reforming only to explode again.
Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.
I watched and stared, mesmerized, as The Baron moved, stuck in an anxiety hell. It only ended and my body nearly collapsed, when I realized that he wasn’t alive. It was merely gravity grabbing him. My whole body felt drenched in sweat, sweat that was mixing with the blood poured over me, and my knees and body felt exhausted. When the Baron’s body finally hit the ground, as two corpses lay dead on the ground, it took nearly all of my willpower to just remain standing.
Sadly, I was given no time for a pressure relief as that had acted as some sort of signal.
The beautiful naked elf with an eye patch ran to The Baron’s body.
Selve ran towards the sword on the ground.
And thirteen armored men with sharpened weapons ran at me at once.
That last one pushed my mind past the breaking point. I didn’t even move. I had faded out. It felt like watching a tidal wave or a hurricane coming right at you. The sense of powerless was total. Death wasn’t a question, it was an answer. Even as time seemed to slow down, as my heart beat faster, as my death approached, I didn’t move. My mind receded, down, down. I was still as a statue, with thoughts to match. My head was empty, my soul was blank. Death was coming and I was powerless to stop it.
But a man’s mind can only take so much.
As the first blade of the first man swung at my head in a nearly blind panic, as the blade got closer and closer and closer, till it felt like it encompassed my whole vision, a new emotion was born.
‘I don’t deserve this.’
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. I couldn’t remember ever feeling that so, cleanly. So strongly. As if it wasn’t just the petty ramblings of a mortal on his way out or experiencing some minor inconvenience but actual fact. I truly believed, at the bottom of my heart, in the heights of my mind, that I did not deserve this. Not just the death coming at me, but the whole thing, the whole situation.
Who deserves to be sent to Hell because of someone else’s actions? Who deserves to be ripped away from their friends, family, life, and their own body and soul, because some men decided to be evil? Is nothing sacred? Is nothing protected, even after death? Is even oblivion not available?
Who deserves to have their mind and soul shattered and reformed, made into something other? Am I the same man who left? I’m not even human anymore. Who can say that I wasn’t killed and this is just the remnants reformed in a new way? How unfair is that.
And during all of that, I am practically forced and bound by my own morals to go help. To be the savior others need, not because there was a gun to my head, but because that was how I am. Never before has the world seemed so unfair.
As the side of the blade was inches away from my eye, an old emotion appeared. Something well grooved and well familiar. Anger. Simple, direct, unending rage. A purity of it.
The two emotions met and the sword struck.
They say you will never forget the look in a man’s eye when he is killed. If that’s suppose to be true, I’m sad to say I forgot the first two. The third I shall remember forever. Absolute, pure, fear.
As my tail blocked the sword, my fist swung with the might of the heavens and his face broke and his skull was little more than paper.
New and old had met and transformed into something I wasn’t aware I could feel.
Divine Wrath.
Unfair to me? I had seen the women. I had seen the marks on them. The bruises, the rope marks, the malnourishment, the dead soulless eyes.
The desire to die.
These monsters had killed their husbands and children and friends, they had taken them, stripped them and used them.
The young men and sons who had lost their lives didn’t deserve it.
The women raped and maimed didn’t deserve it.
The villagers huddling in fear with broken hearts didn’t deserve it.
Selve forced to bury them all and risk everything, just for the slightest chance of hope and revenge didn’t deserve it.
No one deserved the atrocities that had been committed. The universe didn’t work like that. Just like money or language, fairness or ‘deserve’ was a mortal concept. Good men died young, women were raped and killed, evil bastards died happy at old age with a loving family, that was the world. Perhaps the Hell I had been to was the end result, but who could say. I had been there after all and I had barely hurt a fly before today. Perhaps that realm is full of good people and heaven is full of bad.
Fairness didn’t exist.
As my claws cleaved through a metal helm and my tail plunged through another’s chest, I had solidly made my decision. I had once made a joke to a friend.
‘If I cared as much about the world as you do, I’d probably be a serial killer.’
With righteous wrath filling my heart, I would be the end of the line for these creatures that dare to still call themselves human.
“DIE!”
.
.
.
I was panting. I was standing and I was panting. My focus was entirely on that.
Huff, huff, huff.
Just my breaths in the air, in and out.
Minutes could have passed, hours probably did, before I heard a sound. I turned to the noise to see Selve, panting in the same way, covered in blood as well. He had some nasty looking cuts across his arms and chest, he was bleeding badly, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to die.
I heard another noise coming from my right this time, and saw the elf from before. She was panting just as hard. She was covered in blood and still naked, but she’d found a sword somewhere. She miraculously seemed to have come out of it without any visible wounds that I could see. Judging by the bloody holes in the Baron’s body and crotch, she might have simply been double tapping everyone to make sure they stayed down.
I breathed deep one final time and felt like I should say something. Corpses covered the ground, and we three had won. It was our total victory. As I was thinking that, I heard the clank of a sword to see the elf had dropped it. She stumbled over, clearly as physically exhausted as I mentally felt, before finally coming up to me. I expected a thanks. I got… something more.
“Can I suck your dick?”
My mind blanked for the umpteenth time that day and sadly, it was one time too many.
I smiled and promptly passed out.
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. What the fuck am I doing?! What the fuck is going on?!
No time, sword! There’s a fucking sword, heading for my god damn face!
I moved and oh my fucking god I have claws and I killed someone and I’m a demon and- Focus on the sword you fucking idiot!
Time seemed to slow down as a hardened sharpened piece of death cleaved through the air, aiming to take my newly regained life away. I felt the desire to scream in panic and a stronger desire to massacre the person in front of me. My emotions felt in utter turmoil, complete and total fucking chaos warring against each other. I had only been partially present up until now and now it was like waking from a very long dream or reading from a textbook, only to find out that everything is suddenly very real.
The rape, the killing, the blood, the fucking sword!
As I sidestepped it, I couldn’t help but feel my eyes grow wide and my heart nearly stop. A, it was right fucking next to me! B. I managed to actually sidestep a god damn sword in mid swing. It felt like I was underwater. No, not me nor felt like, the sword was moving like it was underwater.
No time to question it!
I felt my tail (mother of god, I have a tail!), and flexed it forward, hoping for something to happen.
And it did. Oh god, it did.
I could feel my tail as it cracked through the air, as it plunged into and out the back of the man’s neck, as he seemed to stiffen and keep moving by momentum, as my own face morphed into one of horror.
A scream rose and died in my throat, my own emotions feeling like a bomb had exploded and imploded. I didn’t have any weird mental way to tell how my mind was doing now but I was pretty sure I was freaking the fuck out.
Pulling my tail out, which was more instinctive than anything, and watching a geyser of blood shoot out of a man’s neck and pour over me, was the final straw.
“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”
I killed a man? No, another man? Blood, oh god the blood. Oh god. Oh fucking god. It all seemed to be happening in slow motion. The drip and flying of the blood, the man slowly, oh so fucking slowly, falling to the ground, the sword clattering as it hit the ground. It was like someone had made everything go in slow motion, till finally, as I stared with horrified eyes, the man hit the grass with a thump.
Time seemed to fully freeze, an eternity passing, where no one said or did a thing. My body had turned at my attack, yet my eyes never left the dead man on the ground. It felt like raging rapids were trying to break my head. Just, he had died just like that? I, I had killed? Killed again? What. What? What?
Time was like the worst torture I could have ever asked for. My thoughts ran wild and free and fast but permanently stuck in an endless loop.
‘He’s dead? I killed him? I killed, again?’
That must have ran through my head a thousand times, before finally new thoughts started to barge in. Namely ‘What the fuck was that?’ Because I looked over at movement that nearly wiped my brain clean right off the map.
The Baron had moved.
For a second my brain couldn’t even compute, not even a concept of an idea passing through it. Just white noise and fuzz. My vision felt like it was going white, like I was going to pass out, as my heart beat so loud and fast in my ears that I couldn’t imagine anything louder. Not a rock concert, not an explosion, just my heart. Over and over again, feeling like my ears were exploding and reforming only to explode again.
Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.
I watched and stared, mesmerized, as The Baron moved, stuck in an anxiety hell. It only ended and my body nearly collapsed, when I realized that he wasn’t alive. It was merely gravity grabbing him. My whole body felt drenched in sweat, sweat that was mixing with the blood poured over me, and my knees and body felt exhausted. When the Baron’s body finally hit the ground, as two corpses lay dead on the ground, it took nearly all of my willpower to just remain standing.
Sadly, I was given no time for a pressure relief as that had acted as some sort of signal.
The beautiful naked elf with an eye patch ran to The Baron’s body.
Selve ran towards the sword on the ground.
And thirteen armored men with sharpened weapons ran at me at once.
That last one pushed my mind past the breaking point. I didn’t even move. I had faded out. It felt like watching a tidal wave or a hurricane coming right at you. The sense of powerless was total. Death wasn’t a question, it was an answer. Even as time seemed to slow down, as my heart beat faster, as my death approached, I didn’t move. My mind receded, down, down. I was still as a statue, with thoughts to match. My head was empty, my soul was blank. Death was coming and I was powerless to stop it.
But a man’s mind can only take so much.
As the first blade of the first man swung at my head in a nearly blind panic, as the blade got closer and closer and closer, till it felt like it encompassed my whole vision, a new emotion was born.
‘I don’t deserve this.’
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. I couldn’t remember ever feeling that so, cleanly. So strongly. As if it wasn’t just the petty ramblings of a mortal on his way out or experiencing some minor inconvenience but actual fact. I truly believed, at the bottom of my heart, in the heights of my mind, that I did not deserve this. Not just the death coming at me, but the whole thing, the whole situation.
Who deserves to be sent to Hell because of someone else’s actions? Who deserves to be ripped away from their friends, family, life, and their own body and soul, because some men decided to be evil? Is nothing sacred? Is nothing protected, even after death? Is even oblivion not available?
Who deserves to have their mind and soul shattered and reformed, made into something other? Am I the same man who left? I’m not even human anymore. Who can say that I wasn’t killed and this is just the remnants reformed in a new way? How unfair is that.
And during all of that, I am practically forced and bound by my own morals to go help. To be the savior others need, not because there was a gun to my head, but because that was how I am. Never before has the world seemed so unfair.
As the side of the blade was inches away from my eye, an old emotion appeared. Something well grooved and well familiar. Anger. Simple, direct, unending rage. A purity of it.
The two emotions met and the sword struck.
They say you will never forget the look in a man’s eye when he is killed. If that’s suppose to be true, I’m sad to say I forgot the first two. The third I shall remember forever. Absolute, pure, fear.
As my tail blocked the sword, my fist swung with the might of the heavens and his face broke and his skull was little more than paper.
New and old had met and transformed into something I wasn’t aware I could feel.
Divine Wrath.
Unfair to me? I had seen the women. I had seen the marks on them. The bruises, the rope marks, the malnourishment, the dead soulless eyes.
The desire to die.
These monsters had killed their husbands and children and friends, they had taken them, stripped them and used them.
The young men and sons who had lost their lives didn’t deserve it.
The women raped and maimed didn’t deserve it.
The villagers huddling in fear with broken hearts didn’t deserve it.
Selve forced to bury them all and risk everything, just for the slightest chance of hope and revenge didn’t deserve it.
No one deserved the atrocities that had been committed. The universe didn’t work like that. Just like money or language, fairness or ‘deserve’ was a mortal concept. Good men died young, women were raped and killed, evil bastards died happy at old age with a loving family, that was the world. Perhaps the Hell I had been to was the end result, but who could say. I had been there after all and I had barely hurt a fly before today. Perhaps that realm is full of good people and heaven is full of bad.
Fairness didn’t exist.
As my claws cleaved through a metal helm and my tail plunged through another’s chest, I had solidly made my decision. I had once made a joke to a friend.
‘If I cared as much about the world as you do, I’d probably be a serial killer.’
With righteous wrath filling my heart, I would be the end of the line for these creatures that dare to still call themselves human.
“DIE!”
.
.
.
I was panting. I was standing and I was panting. My focus was entirely on that.
Huff, huff, huff.
Just my breaths in the air, in and out.
Minutes could have passed, hours probably did, before I heard a sound. I turned to the noise to see Selve, panting in the same way, covered in blood as well. He had some nasty looking cuts across his arms and chest, he was bleeding badly, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to die.
I heard another noise coming from my right this time, and saw the elf from before. She was panting just as hard. She was covered in blood and still naked, but she’d found a sword somewhere. She miraculously seemed to have come out of it without any visible wounds that I could see. Judging by the bloody holes in the Baron’s body and crotch, she might have simply been double tapping everyone to make sure they stayed down.
I breathed deep one final time and felt like I should say something. Corpses covered the ground, and we three had won. It was our total victory. As I was thinking that, I heard the clank of a sword to see the elf had dropped it. She stumbled over, clearly as physically exhausted as I mentally felt, before finally coming up to me. I expected a thanks. I got… something more.
“Can I suck your dick?”
My mind blanked for the umpteenth time that day and sadly, it was one time too many.
I smiled and promptly passed out.
