' Hatred consumed you and you let it. Was the price worth it? ' -Hien
< ☾ > ALL THIS HATRED; LET HER DROWN IN IT, let her burn, let her suffocate! Hatred aye, it had long ago found a place in a heart so hollow, had long ago began to nestle there & grow. To let roots wrap around the cracks & fissures, deeply anchored into this BROKEN HUSK; to hate meant to feel, to rage meant to succumb to the sensation of PASSION warped & twisted into a certain extreme. – what was this red red red RAGE if not one’s only relief? You dare to come & judge her, o VALIANT LORD OF VERMIN & PESTILENCE? You … whose tragedy has yet to be written. Self-righteous because he knew naught; of struggle, of hardship, of violence & victimhood. Of pain, of blood, of broken bones mangled & skin cracked open. Of agony, o agony, this sentiment of a raw throat; rasped by SCREAMS & CRIES FOR HELP.
High & mighty, this self-proclaimed LORD of Doma. Standing tall & proud with a sword clutched in a bloodied hand. Being oh so vigorous & strong, granting the WITCH one last chance to redeem herself. – THINK ABOUT YOUR SINS, WHORE; confess. Just mumble those words, play you part. Fall down on your knees, let palms grace the floor. BEG BEG BEG like you did so oft in your wretched past. Throw yourself in the dirt beneath your heels, grovel, wallow in the SHIT from which you came; & know this … you cannot escape the tethers of a bitter fore-time, you cannot erase your rank & standings by pretending to be more than a mere prostitute. && again … again they had come to TEACH & CRIPPLE.
❝ Oh, what a lovely hero you are. ❝ cue a bitter laugh, a dark-toned chuckle. Sweet embrace of death: your only truthful lover. The only thing ever yearned for; to die in reckless abandon. To end a violent life with such a brutal end; to be cut down, shot show, TORN ASUNDER. How beautiful it seemed, to imagine how that sword of his would cleave through collarbone & sinew, through skin & flesh & bones. To die … to bring this piteous existence to an end. Aye, to die … & tear this DOMAN SCUM down into the depths of hell alongside her.– she broods for a while, desperation burning as bright as her rancor in a quickly heaving chest; time was ticking, soon ... soon the collapsing castle would BURY them all. Prolong their stay just a little longer. -- be reminiscent of the / YOUR price … just how high had it been, pray tell? HOW MANY COINS DO YOU WANT TO PAY FOR HER?? RENOWNED COURTESAN; this beauty, mysterious & cold! JUST HOW MUCH, LORD HIEN? Fret not, I shall measure this prize for you!
❝ Granting the oh so smitten villain a moment to justify, searching for those detestable traits that will fit your petty little morals and sense of justice. To confront me with my sins before striking me down. Is that not what your honorable codex demands you to do, L o r d Hien? ❝
Watch her! Such a disgusted expression, lips curled into a scornful smile whilst mocking voice drew his title with every bit of spite / HATE HATE HATE that was left in a broken body. The prize, the prize. Pray tell, how many Doman generals & lords have laid hands on her body? How many have ravished, have taken what they wanted without consent? How many secrets have thus been sold? How many men have been killed by these very hands? Never had her thirst been quenched, never had their miserable demises managed to FILL THE VOID. The prize … he says, as if those men had had any worth. Oftentimes / ALWAYS drunk, brimming to the rim with alcohol. Some violent leaving bruises as dark as night on palest skin, leaving marks that BLED, others cussing, boasting, YELLING. Detestable PIGS meant to die a lowly creature’s death.
❝ -- yes. And I would kill and destroy and TORTURE your people again and again and again. Forever, ‘til my last condemned breath! ❝ -- oh, oh indeed it has ALL been worth it.
