†Monster of an Alter Ego†
Maibe: So... This is an Afrikaans Essay I had to write where the topic was Deepest Darkness...
Magdalene: This is the translated, updated and uncensored version... Cause Yami's not allowed to hand in papers with vulgar language in
Maibe: The teacher gave me 56% because I made gramtical errors and spelling mistakes...
Magdalene: Afrikaans isn't her best subject.
Maibe: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead or fictional, is unintentional and purely coincidental
†Monster of an Alter Ego†
Shadows. Monsters. Hell.
My Yami's head is of it. Even her name sends shivers down ones spine: Maibe Sekhet Kek- Grave of Powerful Darkness. Her soul room is just a pitch-black hole where I'm always in pain. She does not shudder when she hears the screams of demons or when crimson blood trickles between her toes… She's a masochist for pain and at night she howls at the moon like a psychotic wolf.
She is not as wicked as I make her out to be- wrath, pain and cruelty is all she has ever known.
As a child, her family was murdered right before her eyes. The stench of burning flesh still sticks to her pale, unblemished skin and the cries of her sister's death wail rings in her ears. The final sounds her sibling made before she was consumed by the fiery abyss. All for some magical artifacts… supposedly used to 'save' the land where she was born and banished from.
Years of slavery did not help her situation at all. It mad her cold and bitter… all her emotions hidden behind a mask of shadow…
-†-
Small drops of liquid life still drips from the knick in my arm. The blood splatters are still fresh on the tainted blade of her knife
Blood is like candy to her: Each drop so sweet, it might just give her a toothache.
Each of her victims has endured slow and painful torture, their corpses broken, battered and flesh torn open where the bloodletting had commenced.
She is fascinated by the human body. Question such as, "Can a person die from being beaten to death, WITHOUT breaking the skin?", "Is it possible for ones victim to stay conscience during the removal of the organs?" or "What is the perfect way to sever a body part with minimum blood being messed?" often arise in her conversations.
No normal person would ever be able to come up with such gruesome murder techniques…
…But she is not a normal person…
Her soul shall never rest in the underworld. She never even had a chance to be part of the Weighing of the Hearts ceremony. Her heart was never judged by Anubis and Horus. Never will it be weighed up against the feather of Maat… even though it would most probably have been devoured by Ammat before it even touched the scales.
No, she has been banished to eternal life on earth while her body is gnawed on by maggots and memories of her to fade in the mist. She is doomed to roam the world in her astral form. That is how I met this once mighty mage.
-†-
Another cut, somewhat deeper and larger then the first. The blood seems to leap from my leg, but I bite back the screams building up in my throat. I shall never give her the satisfaction of hearing how much anguish I am in.
"Oh come now Hikari… be a darling and let me hear your screams… COME ON! SCREAM DAMIT! SCREAM YOU LITTLE BITCH! I WANT TO HEAR THAT SOPHRANO VOICE OF YOURS AS IT BREAKS FROM THE AGONY YOU BODY'S GOING THROUGH!" she snarls and forces the awful dagger back into my skin, creating an even greater cavity. Her ice-blue eyes are ablaze with hate, bloodlust and animalistic.
I was wrong…
Her soul has crumbled away over the millennia and has left a deep, dark grotto in its place…