Just who cares where it goes. I want to throw my hand in the air. To let the sunlight beam through the gaps of my fingers and purify the shadow stalking me. But why is it that when I push my hand ahead of my face, there's a wall?
"What are you doing?"
My hand doesn't retract, if I want to pierce the wall and let light flow, don't I have to do it myself? I can only feel the solid steel embed itself into my hand, I can only grit my teeth and continue.
Sacrifice is necessary to walk, sacrifice is inevitable when trying to move foward, sacrifice just is. I can only grow from the lowest depths, I can only grow when I have nothing, I am nothing. What is there to lose, when the ones holding my chain remain indifferent in my suffering. I cannot be saved.
I continue to push against his sword with my hand. I want to see it. Beyond the blade that tears me, beyond the man that chains me, and beyond the walls that hold me.
But steel is stronger than flesh, and my hand succumbs. It flies away bloodied, how enviable. But anyway, what is a hand when I have feet. Using his imbalance after cutting through my once unfaltering hand, I close in on his chin a deliver a swift ki- nevermind.
What is a nameless slave compared to a trained warrior? He effortlessly dodges my kick, and I kiss dirt. He drills his sword into the centre of my back, not yet releasing it to hold my organs and bodily fluids in place. And with his heavy plated armour, gives me a good kick. How sadist.
I angle my head, trying to see that bit of light I longed for, but all I saw was his smirking face. I'm just some amusement to him. I'm just another slave driven to his breaking point. I guess it makes sense, him a lofty warrior guard, me a…what am I? After this, I've definitely lost even the pathetic status of a slave which is already lower than that of a criminal.
"Always in your own head, you remain so calm despite the immense pain I must be putting you through?"
Why is he talking to me?
"What a pathetic attempt, to bait me into cutting off your hand to allow you a slight chance of leaving me open? How insane."
I see. Isn't it beautiful, in my chase of the light, I am just quickening my pace to the darkness. And yet, right when I'm about to-
"AGAIN! Off in your own head always thinking, I can see it so clearly. You have a talent as a little scholar. It's too bad I mutilated you."
He won't even allow me a quiet send off? Seriously, how selfish can these people be. He finally takes his sword out my back, along with the blood he was keeping in my body with it.
I stand up, gaping hole in my torso and my right hand cut roughly off, still a bit of flesh hanging. The corner of his mouth widens, and he sticks his sword into the ground. I'm quite a good performer I guess, he seems truly amused at my situation.
"You can still walk! You are quite the spectacle. You have my respect."
He extends his right arm to shake my hand, as if to demonstrate his respect. But that eerie smile poking through his helmet clearly betrays his intentions as he tortures me with mockery.
I let out a soft smile as well and shake his hand right back.
"Wait wh-"
Although my hand has regenerated partially from the moment he offered the handshake, it takes a bit of time, so it's still weak at the moment. I extend my left hand so that I'm now holding his hand by both arms and yank him to the floor. The sound of that heavy armour crashing on the same dirt I once lied on…ahh very good.
"H-how?" He's still stunned on the floor, confused at my sudden regeneration. But what's the point of confusion in life? When you do something, just do it. Don't question anything. At least, that's what I learned as a slave. So, I grab his sword that was still standing embedded in the dirt, and slash at his head.
My hands shook immensely, the rebound force of hitting his metal helmet was something I wasn't expecting. I guess I can't learn how to use a sword just out of desperation. And although I have this…gift, my body is still that of a slave.
Let's not hesitate, I swing again and endure. My right hand almost falling off again. Even though I'm not actually cutting him, the force his head must be experiencing right now mustn't be negligible.
The sweat dripping from my face right now is immense, but it's quite fun just battering his head in over and over as he lies limply on the floor. But I'm missing something…that's it! As a slave, I've learned that sometimes, you should learn to cut corners when you can. Otherwise, your won't live long.
So, I take off his helmet and expose his bloodied and bruised face, he's finally unconscious of course. After that beating, there's no way he wouldn't be. But anyway, with one swift strike, I cut his head clean off.
What a breath of fresh air this is. To finally be completely libera-
And then my world flipped and I started flying, I was envious of my hand earlier for getting to experience this earlier, and now that I'm experiencing it, it feels even better than decapitating that guard before. Totally freeing.
Of course I heard the man approaching before, I'm not deaf. I just…I really was jealous of my hand, I meant it! Thankfully, I managed to decapitate that man earlier…otherwise I wouldn't get to experience this joy. I wonder how long it would take my body to regenerate a new head.
The free fall feeling slowly fades as I approach the dirt floor.
Let's have a good rest.