I never should of done it. I just should of been more careful. I'll wonder the afterlife hated for all eternity. And I have a feeling I'll be visiting the afterlife very, very soon.
On my last
hunt I was on a spree. A killing spree. I was killing worthless ooman
runts, skinning and hanging them upside down one by one.
I
remember thrusting my Wristblades through one of their stomachs,
spilling their guts all over the dirty ground.
Pure. Utter.
Glory,
Then it happened. A woman came out, an unarmed woman. I
didn't even notice. I swung round, letting my shiruken wizz out of my
hands cutting clean through her ribs.
I was horrified. I cursed
myself in Yautja tongue.
I rapidly flicked through my visions for
any sign of life,
that was when I saw it. I'd gone past it at
first, but after flicking back to a previous one, I saw it. The
baby.
I could already make out some hair at this stage. It was
classed as a human.
I was miserably dragged down a long
corridor bruised and battered up to the Elders desk. He was about to
give me my sentence.
"Ja'toil, you have committed more than
three offenses to the rules of the hunt."
He paused then
continued.
"Normally we would kill you straight off with
this. But it was your first hunt. You didn't know any better. The
experienced warrior monitoring the hunt for you should of reported to
us straight away.
We've already killed him for the
violation."
Ja'toil energy and hope just drained out of
him. He'd known the warrior.
"I do not feel any sympathy
whatsoever for your actions, but since you are Unblooded, I will give
you two choices. One, we will kill you as we would normally do.
Two,
we will give you Cetanu's blade and you may stab yourself until
death. This way you may preserve your honour and never feel bad about
breaking the rules of the hunt.
For once Ja'toil
spoke.
"Anything for honour, Elder."
There was a roar
of approval round the room, Ja'toil beamed with happiness.
"So
it is settled we will take you to the ceremonial field for all to see
your noble act."
An hour later he was in a stadium like
area, a crowd of hundreds all around him roaring, some in fury, some
in cheerfulness.
He was handed the Dagger and faced it towards
himself. Any Yautja knows every pressure point. He could of stabbed
himself in a precise spot and killed himself straight away.
But he
didn't want that.
He wanted to say his last words on deaths
doorsteps, to the hundreds of Yautja around him.
This would truly
preserve his honour for eternity.
He looked at the crowd, draw the
dagger out into the air and slammed it into his stomach.
Green
fluorescent blood poured over the green grass. Somewhat illuminating
it.
He whispered to himself.
"I am a Yautja. I am not
good, nor am I bad. But I am a Yautja. Honoured by Cetanu's blade
at death
I speak my final words. I live by the Yautja, I live
for
the Yautja, and I will always be a Yautja.
I
live by honour, by glory. And now as I shut my eyes I say my final
word.
Freedom
