Sarah's wrists were shackled, the iron biting into her skin as Blasphemy's minions marched her down the dirt path. The chains dragged across the stones, rattling with every forced step.
They were headed toward the old ceremonial grounds—a wide, open space where the entire village would gather to witness her trial. Public. Final. Designed to humiliate.
But halfway there, the procession suddenly stopped.
A figure stepped out from the shadows, blocking the path.
Blasphemy.
He stood there calmly, arms folded, as if he'd been waiting the whole time just to savor this moment.
Blasphemy:
"Hey Sarah. Nice seeing you again.
Small change of plans… we will waste little of your already wasted time."
Sarah (dryly):
"Just get it over with."
Blasphemy:
"We'll wait until the villagers arrive. They deserve to see the trial.
We'll make sure it's... fair."
Sarah (a bitter laugh):
"Fair?"
Blasphemy's smirk faltered. He tilted his head, almost curious.
Blasphemy:
"Sarah, do you know the best way to torture someone?
To truly break them?"
Sarah (sarcastic):
"Hmm… maybe kill yourself in front of them?"
Blasphemy:
"No.
It's making them want to be tortured."
Sarah (cold):
"Why are we stopping for this?"
Blasphemy (stepping closer, voice lowering):
"You see… for example…
For a woman, her worst fear—well, you might say it's... someone using her. By force.
You know what I mean."
"So... that's what I did. For six months.
Sure, we punched you, cut you, let you bleed. But that was just the warm-up—just a way to sell the bigger act."
for six month strangers would stand in front of you, and... well... play with themselves.
Every single night.
At first, it was: Will they do it?
Then it became: When?
And then... the thought creeps in: Maybe I deserve this.
Or worse... maybe I want it....and you try hard to prove that's not the truth.
That's when the real damage is done, Sarah.
That's what finally broke you.
That's why you push me to end you.
You wanted to prove you weren't... twisted. Right?"
Sarah:
"Let me tell you a secret.
Even if they had done it... every single night for six months...
I wouldn't care."
Blasphemy (snapping):
"WHAT?!"
Sarah (cold and clear):
You think you broke me?"
She took a deep breath.
Sarah:
"I was broken long before you ever laid a hand on me."
She laughed—quiet, bitter, fearless.
"You wanted to break me?
I chose to raise a disaster.
Children the whole village believed would bring ruin—cursed, dangerous, a threat to everything.
And I took them in. I looked at the end of the world… and I opened the door."
Her expression hardened.
"Not because I was noble. Not because I was brave.
Because I had nothing left.
I chose something that might destroy everything—even me— I was already broken."
Blasphemy went quiet. His eyes stayed locked on hers.
A single tear slipped from his left eye, trailing down his cheek.
Blasphemy (quietly):
"It'd be a waste to lose you today."
Sarah (tilting her head):
"Why's that?"
Blasphemy (with one tears escaped his Left eye):
"...Because that would be.....blasphemy."
Sarah stood silent. For once, even Blasphemy had nothing more to say.