The smell of blood snapped me back to reality. The metallic yet pungent smell reverberated and expanded around me. It was intense and acrimonious as though my whole body was inhaling it. A gust of cold wind enveloped my bloody skin. I slowly began to peel my eyelids and quickly took in my surroundings. The bloody smears on the wall, the droplets of blood splattered on the floor and the cold air that hit my skin harshly made everything immediately vivid.
I was being tortured.
As I tried to stand up and take a run for it, my legs wobbled. Clouded by an immense power of fear, I began to cry and beg for mercy or any ounce of pity that was present in the monster. I knew this wasn't prominent as the figure behind me didn't bother to move. I tried again but this time, I pressed my hands together as if I was praying to a God.
"Please" I choked on my words."I'm sorry." I cried and begged for forgiveness, with words that creeped from the depths of my soul. Do I even have a soul to begin with? A soul is a vigour. A life.
As most spiritual people say, a soul is the spirit or essence of a person usually thought to consist of one's thoughts and personality. And such an essence comes in many different forms of energy. It can be brighter than the whole stars combined, it can be dull yet light still lingers from it. It is often believed to live on after the person's death. Do I have such a soul?
Warm blood cascaded down my face. As I locked eyes with him, a surge of dread washed over me. His imposing figure towered above, exuding an air of menacing power. My heart raced, each beat echoing in my ears. His piercing gaze seemed to penetrate straight through me, freezing me in place. Every instinct urged me to flee, to escape his presence. I felt a knot tightening in my stomach, as if warning me of the imminent danger lurking within his very being. Sweat trickled down my brow, my hands trembled uncontrollably. I could sense the weight of his presence pressing down on me, suffocating me. The mere thought of him killing me sent shivers down my spine.
He was an enormous and malevolent monster. A monster that shook my body to the core. Crimson blood formed delta streams on the edges of my face, mixing with my tears.
"What are you sorry for, human?" he asked furiously, and I wasn't taken aback by the tone he used. My body shivered with uncontrollable fear yet again. My fingers shook tremendously as the fear of this monster overwhelmed me. It was too much. My warm tears dropped from my heavy eyes that were clouded with fear. As I tried to answer his question, the words got caught up in my throat. The only sound that was heard was my pitiful cries. The cries I have given to God plenty of times for them to be ignored. Oh how a silent God you are. He's so silent around me. Doesn't dare make a word nor a sound. I can never feel his presence. I will never feel his presence because of the evil that surrounds me.
"I asked you a question human. What are you sorry for?" His booming voice was coated with malice and hatred. It overwhelmed me. Engulfed me with the fear of something I tried my hardest to avoid.
The fear of death has always been a looming presence in my life, a constant shadow in the corners of my thoughts. It's a fear that's hard to put into words, yet it grips me with an intensity that I can't escape.
"I'm sorry for existing" I mumbled under my breath. My fingers trembled with trepidation as my breath came quickly and unevenly. Warm blood cascaded down my face and dropped on my shaking hands. I scrunched my nose as the metallic smell of blood was overwhelming.
"Yes, that's right. You should say that every time but be a little loud. Now say it again human. Hate yourself for existing!"
My breaths were shallow and the warm tears that my eyes couldn't retain made me feel down in dumps. I opened my mouth like a gaping fish. "I'm-" I choked on my words yet again. "I'm sorry for existi-" All of a sudden, everything was loud. His footsteps that thumped the floor hard and to my surprise, in a rhythmic motion.
My own heart that hammered rapidly against my chest and the sounds of screams was suddenly too loud. I could feel the emotions the scream held. It held pain, melancholy, anger and terror. The sounds the droplets of water made didn't help at all. Everything was loud. Too damn loud.
Useless little brat.
"No God please not again." I quickly brought my shaking hands to my ears, blocking out all the other sounds that began to form an aching headache.
It didn't work. God is being silent again.
"Stop. Just stop" I cried pathetically and moved my hands from my ears to hit my head painfully. I continuously did this, increasing the pressure and blows I gave my head. "No no no no no no no..." I screamed. The loudness increased and became accompanied by voices.
"Please God. I beg you please" I mumbled under my shaky breath. My hands shook tremendously as I brought them to my hair. My nails dug into my hair, pulling my dreadlocks as I screamed.
They should have killed you.
The voices grew louder each second that passed. The words became tedious and I couldn't help the scream that broke out of my mouth.
Don't forget your main purpose for existing brat.
"God no!" I cried. "No no no! I've suffered already. What more do you want from me?" I crawled on the cold floor that scraped my skin painfully. "What have I done God?" I screamed. My scream held pain and anger.
"That's more like it. Scream! Cry to the heavens and tell them how much you hate them and how you wish you were dead" he laughed hysterically.
A monster that feeds from the suffering of others. I hate such monsters, but I fear them. The fear you will always feel for monsters whether you get accustomed to it or not, it's inevitable. The way they articulate their words, move their bodies and kill their predators or must I say humans for that matter, will give you a reason to feel a chill down your spine. Your heart will hammer rapidly against your chest, making an easy task such as respirating difficult. And whenever you try to inhale the air around you, it will feel thick and tense as though you are inhaling oxygen through a straw.
"Just what the fuck are you doing? Who told you to stop?" He moved closer to me which resulted in me moving further away from him. The fear that plastered on my face only seemed to excite him. It ignited a flame inside him. A smile began to grow on his face. It wasn't kind nor gentle. It was distorted in way that made him look more nefarious than he already was. He gripped my neck painfully and dragged my body across the cold tiled floor. He stopped near a bucket of water.
"Put your head in that bucket" he commanded. I looked at the bucket for a moment, contemplating whether I should obey his command or not. As I moved closer to the rather metal bucket smothered in blood, he instantly shoved my head in. As I struggled through his intense grip on my head, panic gripped me like a vice, and my lungs burned for air.
Each frantic kick and flail only seemed to worsen my state. The water around me was an icy, suffocating embrace. It pressed against my face, making every breath a futile gasp for life. My heart pounded in my ears, a relentless drumbeat of fear. Time lost all meaning as I fought against the relentless grip on my head.
My body convulsed with the desperate urge to inhale, but his unyielding grip denied me that basic necessity. Images of my life flashed before my eyes, a surreal montage of memories. He abruptly snatched my head out of the bucket and laughed maliciously. As I took a deep breath, a tightness gripped my chest, suffocating me. The air felt heavy, like a weighty blanket smothering my lungs. Each inhalation was a battle, a desperate attempt to fill the void that seemed to have settled within me.
My breaths became shallow and quick, struggling to find their rhythm. Every inhale felt inadequate, leaving me gasping for more. Panic started to creep in as the walls seemed to close in around me, amplifying the sense of suffocation. I fought against the urge to cough, fearing it would worsen the situation. But with each passing second, my body's demand for oxygen intensified. What should have been a simple act had become a herculean task.
I felt stranded, as if my body had betrayed me, leaving me to endure this torturous sensation alone. My thoughts became muddled, my focus solely fixated on the battle for each breath.
Desperation mixed with fear, creating a relentless storm within me. It was as if I was drowning on dry land, grappling with an invisible force that refused to let me breathe free. I looked up to see his fangs were evident as he spoke something I couldn't hear nor grasp which only seemed to anger him.
"-killed them" He laughed darkly. I didn't know what he was talking nor laughing about but I didn't dare to ask him to repeat what he had said. "Mhmm?" He furrowed his non-existent eyebrows in a confused manner. He then crouched down in order to be at the same eye level as my own. "Quit bullshitting with me human. This pathetic act won't work on me." He growled. He quickly brought his hand to my cheek and squeezed them tightly, in a rather painful manner.
His nails which began to grow into claws pierced into my cheeks and drew out warm blood. He moved his face and brought his lips near my ear, leaving saliva as he whispered, "How did you kill them?"
The question sang a melody at the back of my head.
And that's when it hit me. The memories of my bloody hands, the feeling of ripping through flesh and lastly, the painful screams of those at the top of the pyramid. How naive am I to think I'm such an innocent soul?
I made you into a weapon my child. Kill them all for me.
My mother's voice that was interlaced with evil yet coated with honey overwhelmed my thoughts. There was silence for a moment but I broke it by bursting out into a soft laughter which resulted to me coughing out blood and his claws pierced into my cheeks more painfully.
"You need to be more specific..." I choked on my words, "...Lycan" I said monotonically while trying my hardest not to plaster any mocking face.
Vielen Dank für das Lesen!
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