The Last Thing I Saw
Disclaimer: All of the characters in Weib Kruez are not mine, they belong to the people who made Weib Kruez.
I could tell the exact moment she knew. She had been pressing herself on me, trying to arouse me. She was just another sinner in the land of the evil.
That moment she knew, that's what aroused me. That moment when her life was in my hands. When she screamed and begged and pleaded for her life. When my dagger cut into her, and she was still aware of the pain. The terror in her eyes hungry. Hungry for her blood. She screamed as I used my dagger to rip open her throat. Her screaming echoed through the walls. The screaming faded until only a memory of this woman remained.
I used a sheet to clean off my dagger. I threw the woman on the bed and turned around to leave the hotel room. My hands were sweaty. They always were after such a kill. I took an elevator down to the main floor and waited for the doorman to open the main entrance. I moved outside and started to walk home.
I had just killed a prostitute. It was a hobby, a little something extra I did on the side. It was more like my profession, while my day job was the hobby. It was an important career, and I was one of the few who heard the calling for it.
I killed people who were doing sinful things. Liars, thieves, smugglers, extortionists, prostitutes, braggarts, bribers, et cetera. It was my job to protect the innocent from their evil hands.
I wiped off the remaining blood on my pants. I hated the feeling of sinful blood on my hands. It made me seem unclean somehow, and I needed to be kept pure in order to fulfill every mission that came my way. It was my goal to destroy all evil on earth. I knew I couldn't do it alone, but with the help of others in other countries I had a chance.
I had just begun contacting people, too. Friends and associates who had like-minded ideas. Who knew what their obligation was to society. Soon, I would have a small army moving at my command, and all for the good of mankind.
I heard footsteps shuffling behind me and glanced back. The street behind me was empty, save for the flickering yellow light from the street lamp. I shook my head as if to clear it. I couldn't afford to hear odd sounds at night now. Not when so many things were finally coming together.
Still, I started to walk a little faster than I normally did. When in doubt, take precaution. It was my most valued motto, and I knew when to use it.
I glanced at my watch and saw that it was almost midnight. I hated being alone after midnight. It made me think of all the evil people in the world who I hadn't yet killed. That darkness surrounding me made me think of them. It made me irritable, and jumpy. I'd just rather be safe in my own home then out on the street where any sinner could come and attack me.
I enjoyed killing those people, too. Those random sinners who flocked through the streets. I enjoyed watching their life drain away, leaving behind a soulless, empty husk. I knew they would all burn in hell for their crimes. It was what they deserved.
I felt a pair of eyes watching me. It was familiar, and I realized they had been watching me for a while without my noticing. They had been following me for the past few blocks, but now they felt even closer. I suddenly thought that someone was coming after me. As ridiculous as it sounded, maybe someone might want to kill me.
I wound through the empty, cemented streets towards my house. I knew where I would lead this man who was stalking me. The street was wide, but I still couldn't see him at all. He was good, perhaps too good.
I shook my head, trying to clear that thought aside. Then, I caught a faint shadow appear in front of me and disappear just as quickly. My breathing became faster, and my hand clutched the hilt of my dagger. I saw movement in shadows too close for comfort.
I took precaution. I jogged away from them. I kept moving until I reached an open field. It was a short cut I took when I felt preoccupied or nervous. Tonight was a little of both. The field was open and held no places to hide. The man would have to show his face, and prepare to be killed himself. I would not give up so easily.
I heard a soft whoosh behind me. I grasped my dagger and forcefully held it out in front of me. I turned around quickly, preparing to attack whoever was there. About ten feet away I saw a man standing there.
He stood tall wearing a long black jacket. A gleaming katana was held in his hands. His fiery red hair cried out for vengeance, and I knew he was coming to kill me. His eyes screamed it, although he said nothing. The angel of death, I thought numbly. That's what he looked like.
"Stay back!" I yelled, hoping to hold him at bay. I knew if it came down to a fight between us, his katana would have the advantage over my dagger. Still, I reached up a hand, preparing to throw it, when I felt something wind around my legs. It jerked me off my feet, and I stumbled forward, straining to see what had caused this.
To my right side a different man stood. He was also wearing a long black coat, but he seemed to be more of a model than anything else. His hair gleamed in the moonlight, and he had two string-like weapons held in his hands. One was lingering by my feet, while the other was wrapped around his hand. He looked beautiful, or so I would have thought if he wasn't trying to kill me.
I knew I was outnumbered, and outgunned. I only saw one course of action. Backing away from then both, I was suddenly hit on my back with sharp objects. Pain lanced through me, similar to the feeling my dagger would leave. I stood up quickly, preparing for another onslaught. If this was war, I would not be on the losing side.
I reached around to my back to try and find what had caused the pain. I pulled one out quickly, and held it up to the moonlight to better see it. It was a dart- silver, short, smooth, and lethal.
I looked around to see where it had come from, my mind moving too fast for me to follow. There were more of them than I had thought. As of now the odds were three-to-one, them.
That was not good.
From the corner of my left eye I saw a young boy in shorts walk away from the shadows that had hidden him from view. His golden hair was bright with some sort of inner fire, and the shadows of the leaves from the tree danced across his face. He held three darts in one hand, and a crossbow in the other. If you put those aside, he would have looked completely innocent, as if nothing had ever harmed his life. But his eyes were set with determination, and the weapons gleaming in his hands had me backing up, searching for an alternate escape route.
They had bigger weapons, longer-range weapons, more people, and more practice than I did. I knew I needed to escape. If I ever wanted to live to see another day, I needed to escape before things became more complicated. There was only one way left. Backwards. I took one step, then another. I turned around to escape, and found myself face to face with a fourth man.
He had short brown hair, and was wearing a bright orange sweater tied around his waist. He looked like anger. That's the only word for it. His entire disposition screamed of loathing for me, and everything I stood for. His eyes were dark, and I could see no pity in them. Those eyes told me in no uncertain terms that they despised me.
His hands were covered with bear claws, and he lifted me up with one. I slammed into the nearest tree. My head shook with the force of that fall, and I knelt down beside the tree.
They towered above me like four harbingers of death. And how small, how insignificant I felt just then, cowering beneath them. Why should I have a chance at life when they said otherwise?
But I could not die here. I had a reason to live. I had a mission, and that mission wasn't finished yet.
"Don't kill me," I said evenly, struggling to maintain some dignity. "There are still more evil people in this world. My mission's not finished yet."
I looked to each of them in turn, hoping for a reply or just one flicker of pity in any set of eyes. All held the same callous stare in them. I recognized the angel was the leader, that man with the hair that screamed of hell's fire.
I looked at him, my eyes pleading with him. I felt foolish, to beg and plead for my life. To whimper like a coward during my last moments. But I held fast to my motto. Precaution worked best. If I cowered and whimpered now, I might live later.
I might live and finish my mission. I would be able to rid the world of all evil. I would make the earth a paradise, an oasis for all those who lived on it. I couldn't believe anyone would not want that to occur.
Sure, I had to kill the sinners who stood in my way. Already I had killed over twenty evil creatures. There were thousands more out there. My army was just starting, and now this.
So my eyes continued to plead, to beg.
The angel looked at me and didn't respond. His lack of response was more terrifying than their attacks had been. His silence was my death sentence.
I thought briefly that they all looked like death incarnate. A beautiful, glorious death- full of hope and passion. An innocent, naïve death- without remorse or complaint. An angry, bitter death- needing to find a way out. And that angel- that angel of death come from heaven to destroy me.
That angel looked down at me, violet eyes empty save for a pale reflection of the moon. Shadows of clouds played over his face, bringing out the vengeful fire in his hair.
He lifted his katana and sliced it down quickly. It was the last thing I saw.
Disclaimer: All of the characters in Weib Kruez are not mine, they belong to the people who made Weib Kruez.
I could tell the exact moment she knew. She had been pressing herself on me, trying to arouse me. She was just another sinner in the land of the evil.
That moment she knew, that's what aroused me. That moment when her life was in my hands. When she screamed and begged and pleaded for her life. When my dagger cut into her, and she was still aware of the pain. The terror in her eyes hungry. Hungry for her blood. She screamed as I used my dagger to rip open her throat. Her screaming echoed through the walls. The screaming faded until only a memory of this woman remained.
I used a sheet to clean off my dagger. I threw the woman on the bed and turned around to leave the hotel room. My hands were sweaty. They always were after such a kill. I took an elevator down to the main floor and waited for the doorman to open the main entrance. I moved outside and started to walk home.
I had just killed a prostitute. It was a hobby, a little something extra I did on the side. It was more like my profession, while my day job was the hobby. It was an important career, and I was one of the few who heard the calling for it.
I killed people who were doing sinful things. Liars, thieves, smugglers, extortionists, prostitutes, braggarts, bribers, et cetera. It was my job to protect the innocent from their evil hands.
I wiped off the remaining blood on my pants. I hated the feeling of sinful blood on my hands. It made me seem unclean somehow, and I needed to be kept pure in order to fulfill every mission that came my way. It was my goal to destroy all evil on earth. I knew I couldn't do it alone, but with the help of others in other countries I had a chance.
I had just begun contacting people, too. Friends and associates who had like-minded ideas. Who knew what their obligation was to society. Soon, I would have a small army moving at my command, and all for the good of mankind.
I heard footsteps shuffling behind me and glanced back. The street behind me was empty, save for the flickering yellow light from the street lamp. I shook my head as if to clear it. I couldn't afford to hear odd sounds at night now. Not when so many things were finally coming together.
Still, I started to walk a little faster than I normally did. When in doubt, take precaution. It was my most valued motto, and I knew when to use it.
I glanced at my watch and saw that it was almost midnight. I hated being alone after midnight. It made me think of all the evil people in the world who I hadn't yet killed. That darkness surrounding me made me think of them. It made me irritable, and jumpy. I'd just rather be safe in my own home then out on the street where any sinner could come and attack me.
I enjoyed killing those people, too. Those random sinners who flocked through the streets. I enjoyed watching their life drain away, leaving behind a soulless, empty husk. I knew they would all burn in hell for their crimes. It was what they deserved.
I felt a pair of eyes watching me. It was familiar, and I realized they had been watching me for a while without my noticing. They had been following me for the past few blocks, but now they felt even closer. I suddenly thought that someone was coming after me. As ridiculous as it sounded, maybe someone might want to kill me.
I wound through the empty, cemented streets towards my house. I knew where I would lead this man who was stalking me. The street was wide, but I still couldn't see him at all. He was good, perhaps too good.
I shook my head, trying to clear that thought aside. Then, I caught a faint shadow appear in front of me and disappear just as quickly. My breathing became faster, and my hand clutched the hilt of my dagger. I saw movement in shadows too close for comfort.
I took precaution. I jogged away from them. I kept moving until I reached an open field. It was a short cut I took when I felt preoccupied or nervous. Tonight was a little of both. The field was open and held no places to hide. The man would have to show his face, and prepare to be killed himself. I would not give up so easily.
I heard a soft whoosh behind me. I grasped my dagger and forcefully held it out in front of me. I turned around quickly, preparing to attack whoever was there. About ten feet away I saw a man standing there.
He stood tall wearing a long black jacket. A gleaming katana was held in his hands. His fiery red hair cried out for vengeance, and I knew he was coming to kill me. His eyes screamed it, although he said nothing. The angel of death, I thought numbly. That's what he looked like.
"Stay back!" I yelled, hoping to hold him at bay. I knew if it came down to a fight between us, his katana would have the advantage over my dagger. Still, I reached up a hand, preparing to throw it, when I felt something wind around my legs. It jerked me off my feet, and I stumbled forward, straining to see what had caused this.
To my right side a different man stood. He was also wearing a long black coat, but he seemed to be more of a model than anything else. His hair gleamed in the moonlight, and he had two string-like weapons held in his hands. One was lingering by my feet, while the other was wrapped around his hand. He looked beautiful, or so I would have thought if he wasn't trying to kill me.
I knew I was outnumbered, and outgunned. I only saw one course of action. Backing away from then both, I was suddenly hit on my back with sharp objects. Pain lanced through me, similar to the feeling my dagger would leave. I stood up quickly, preparing for another onslaught. If this was war, I would not be on the losing side.
I reached around to my back to try and find what had caused the pain. I pulled one out quickly, and held it up to the moonlight to better see it. It was a dart- silver, short, smooth, and lethal.
I looked around to see where it had come from, my mind moving too fast for me to follow. There were more of them than I had thought. As of now the odds were three-to-one, them.
That was not good.
From the corner of my left eye I saw a young boy in shorts walk away from the shadows that had hidden him from view. His golden hair was bright with some sort of inner fire, and the shadows of the leaves from the tree danced across his face. He held three darts in one hand, and a crossbow in the other. If you put those aside, he would have looked completely innocent, as if nothing had ever harmed his life. But his eyes were set with determination, and the weapons gleaming in his hands had me backing up, searching for an alternate escape route.
They had bigger weapons, longer-range weapons, more people, and more practice than I did. I knew I needed to escape. If I ever wanted to live to see another day, I needed to escape before things became more complicated. There was only one way left. Backwards. I took one step, then another. I turned around to escape, and found myself face to face with a fourth man.
He had short brown hair, and was wearing a bright orange sweater tied around his waist. He looked like anger. That's the only word for it. His entire disposition screamed of loathing for me, and everything I stood for. His eyes were dark, and I could see no pity in them. Those eyes told me in no uncertain terms that they despised me.
His hands were covered with bear claws, and he lifted me up with one. I slammed into the nearest tree. My head shook with the force of that fall, and I knelt down beside the tree.
They towered above me like four harbingers of death. And how small, how insignificant I felt just then, cowering beneath them. Why should I have a chance at life when they said otherwise?
But I could not die here. I had a reason to live. I had a mission, and that mission wasn't finished yet.
"Don't kill me," I said evenly, struggling to maintain some dignity. "There are still more evil people in this world. My mission's not finished yet."
I looked to each of them in turn, hoping for a reply or just one flicker of pity in any set of eyes. All held the same callous stare in them. I recognized the angel was the leader, that man with the hair that screamed of hell's fire.
I looked at him, my eyes pleading with him. I felt foolish, to beg and plead for my life. To whimper like a coward during my last moments. But I held fast to my motto. Precaution worked best. If I cowered and whimpered now, I might live later.
I might live and finish my mission. I would be able to rid the world of all evil. I would make the earth a paradise, an oasis for all those who lived on it. I couldn't believe anyone would not want that to occur.
Sure, I had to kill the sinners who stood in my way. Already I had killed over twenty evil creatures. There were thousands more out there. My army was just starting, and now this.
So my eyes continued to plead, to beg.
The angel looked at me and didn't respond. His lack of response was more terrifying than their attacks had been. His silence was my death sentence.
I thought briefly that they all looked like death incarnate. A beautiful, glorious death- full of hope and passion. An innocent, naïve death- without remorse or complaint. An angry, bitter death- needing to find a way out. And that angel- that angel of death come from heaven to destroy me.
That angel looked down at me, violet eyes empty save for a pale reflection of the moon. Shadows of clouds played over his face, bringing out the vengeful fire in his hair.
He lifted his katana and sliced it down quickly. It was the last thing I saw.