(no subject)
So,
Not too much going on in life. Pretty much the same. School and Work and the occasional meal accompanied with videojuegos. Today though instead of playing games i started typing up this short story thats been formulating in my head. I don't plan to ensue a novel idea or anything I know I won't complete. But I really wanted to work up the world in my mind onto paper. so i typed up the first portion of what would be a long short story. hah oxymoron. but seriously like i typed up nearly a full 3 pages and im almost certain no one will understand what the hell is going on. Because it doesn't explain the world or the protaganist at all. but I dunno. It still seemed rather enthralling (to me atleast). and like everything else lately I'm striving to instill darkness. my pictures i try heavy shading. in my writing im trying for a dark mood too. so i will post it up and if you guys even find it remotely interesting i will post up more (if i write more) and if not i won't bother you all with it.
“ Faith may be merely an illusion fabricated by the weak in order to hold an appearance of courage during misfortune. In the end, life may not be fair. No matter the struggles one overcomes in obtaining some sense of happiness, time erodes all illusions and reality sets in. Justifying that all one must endure in existence will be repaid because of fairness could be a delusion. Could man have been created in chaos to endure the punishments of their own conception until finally hope is lost and there is only death? From death lies the cold silence of endless darkness that washes our remains in eternal oblivion. Some believe this to be Nirvana. A place where all the wrongs in life are righted. Only one who has experienced oblivion and returned can tell the truth. Is there something worth having faith over? Is there more to life then the aches endured throughout? Find a man who has escaped the pull of the darkness to find me and tell me his story before oblivion beckons me.”
~Final Journal Entry of Scholar Francis Gait~
*
“Why are you here? Why have you come? What are going to do?”
“What does it look like I‘m gonna do? You knew this day would come. Didn’t you? It was only a matter of time before you‘d be asked to repent.”
“But I had nothing to do with this…Why must I be punished for his deeds. I never harmed you or your people! I’ve gone along with everything you all have ever said since he left.”
“True, you have played the part of the devout follower and have led many fools to our cause but that’s not enough. He wants retribution. He wants someone to pay for the harm done. It’s either you or the boy and since I don‘t see the boy around here…”
“Please…please…”
Three knocks on the door awakens me from oblivion. Such sweet rest. I could have slept all night had she not tried to beat down my door. She slowly shifts the door open. I see her black eye peer through the slit made from the doorframe. I acknowledge her existence with a weak tilt of my head in her direction. I begin to sit up but the pain is unbearable. How long have I been in her care now? When were my wounds redressed? I swear she’s a silent as death when she wishes it. She must have cleaned the wounds and redressed them as my mind slipped into nothingness. No, nothingness isn’t right. I know there is something in it, but what I can’t say. I collapse back on the tattered parchments of cloth that make my bed as she gathers the courage to come closer. I can’t help but release a chuckle. When she first found me and resuscitated me I damn near took her head off. That bitch had no right. Time has made me apathetic however. I’m alive because she willed it and I can’t fight her. She will just wait until the pain forces me unconscious and she will creep into the room and ensure my survival. I don’t even have the strength to make sure I die properly. For that, I’ve stopped attacking her.
She is what all boys see in their nightmares. Her eyes are as clear as the marsh water we drink and her skin as smooth as the cracked leather that makes up our worn boots. When she smiles her teeth proudly shine decay and disgust. I can only imagine the hell that makes her sick frame function internally. The witch haunts my life now. Sleep has kept my eyes weak and vision blurry but my mind can never forget her face. It is the face that makes men infertile and women promise suicide before turning into such a beast. I told her this once and she merely smiled. Maybe, the hag is deaf and misunderstood my insult or maybe it’s worse. Maybe, she doesn’t care what I think as long as she can use me when I’m healthy again. That is the worst fear I can imagine. No one shows kindness without expecting something in return. Not even the damned self-righteous Order hands out help without getting a few of the peasants converted into mindless disciples.
“I see you're up,” she croaks.
Her voice snaps my attention into focus as my vision clears. She had been shifting herself forward this whole time. Damn, she is so close I can start to smell the stench of her natural “perfume.” Her emaciated hand forces my chest down as she presses her skull nearer to my ribcage. I watch her slowly calculate thoughts from her wretched features. I know she is ensuring her investment. What good am I if my heart refuses to beat? She is the epitome of decay and age. Her filthy frayed hair coarsely brushes my check. I stare at it with my mouth ajar at the revolting refuse scattered throughout her scalp. Her hair, if cleaned, would appear to have the faded glory of the color rust. If cleaned, it would probably smell better too, but like life it isn’t clean. It’s gritty and unmanageable with bits of trash that can’t be explained.
She jerks her head in my direction as if to expect something important. Her hair catches in my mouth and I begin to gag. I choke hard and begin to pray to every god I’ve ever heard of that no trace of her vile self was left in my mouth. When I was certain I had expunged all of her unwelcome debris from my mouth I stared at her in complete loathing. She smiles again and wheezes that I’m getting better.
“Great….” What else could I say?
I have no control. Whatever vile desires she has for me in the future are coming closer. In a few more days death would no longer be an option. I’d be healthy enough for whatever standards she has in mind. Until my unavoidable doom I can only hope for a miracle; my heart realizes the upcoming danger and stops beating on mere precedent. I hold my breath hoping it would help. Nothing happens…except my heart keeps beating.
“Damn it.” She cocks her head in confusion.
She mutters to herself that she will check on me again tomorrow and that until then I still need my rest. She hobbles away locking the door behind her. She leaves me be, but my thoughts do not stray far from her. My imagination runs scenes in which she does every depraved and cruel act possible. What else can I do but prepare for the inevitable? Maybe I will be ready for her. When healthy, I could easily overpower her. However, she is too silent. In slumber she could easily bind me and all my strength would be pointless. No, I won’t think like that. When the time comes I will be ready…somehow.
I stare at the bare walls and floor that forms my room. My room or my cell, I don‘t know which. I am not bound in the room. The lock on the door is merely a precaution for herself more than me. The window in my room is a gap in the sheet metal that makes up my east wall. Had I the energy I could easily escape through it. No, she locks the door so that I can’t creep in silence towards her and kill my “rescuer.” It gives me some comfort knowing this. She fears me, yet she knows I haven’t the strength to perform what worries her. Otherwise I would long have been bound by something. Only my wounds keep me here. She knows it as well as I do.
I stare at what was once a gaping hole in my stomach. I had long since been filled with blood and skin and whatever muck the body concocts to refuse death. It wouldn’t have been enough though. A cruel miracle had occurred. She had found me and thought I was worth saving. But for what, I did not know.
The cool breeze of morning rushes from my window and light starts to peer through the gap in the sheet metal. My other walls were of plaster and wood like most house walls. I surmise the room is part of some ancient building that was partly intact. I make the guess the hag claimed it as hers and has since been keeping residence here…and apparently resuscitating random cadavers she finds along her path. I know I’m not her first. I can see the worn walls marked with writing of previous “tenants.” Some carved personal calendars, others etched witty remarks about “god helping his lost lamb.” My favorite was signed by a man apparently named Kaylo. It simply states, “You’re not dead…but you soon will wish you were.” Kaylo seems like the man I want to know. A man that could help me endure the trial I’m about to encounter. Sadly, I know he has long left and chances of knowing what is going to happen are long dead…probably like himself.
I let the light wash my face with its warmth as I drift into the abyss of sleep. I let go of my fear of waking up bound and tied as the witch hovers over me muttering a list of her cruel intent. I let go of my worry and doubt and just welcome the oblivion. If I’m lucky it will end here. My story will end and I will pass away. I will drift into Nirvana once more and this time, damn it, I’m going to stay there.
“Please…please…”
Three loud shots of thunder awaken me again. Damn it all to hell…
~Justinian~