Miss Destroyer, Miss Murder
Xena the Destroyer
She was disgusted. What was this she was feeling? She wanted to scratch her insides until she could get rid of it.
"Please, spare me. I will do anything, I swear."
Without hesitation, the princess stuck the man with her sword; heard him groan, heard his body slump, and heard her own ragged breaths.
She needed to kill more. She needed to convince herself once again. The fact that she needed to confirm her own mind was frustrating. She told herself again, that she should not have stayed this long in this filthy town. She hated everything about it now, but even more, she hated what she felt. Little pangs of guilt. They struck her on intervals, reminding her, tainting her every time that she could have done something. But then again, she was no saint—far from it-- so why should she care? Why did she feel guilty? She never did before.
She kicked her horse, sword still in her right hand, and roamed the burning town for survivors. She would kill them. She would clean her mind free of guilt, with their blood. She was claustrophobic in her own body with a good conscience; she couldn't stand it for too long. She wouldn't. She silently agreed that she couldn't go back now; she was so dirty. Too many sins to name, that hell would gladly welcome her, just to beat the hell out of her. She hated the thought of turning back to what she was before, because no one would, and no one could, embrace her with knowing what she did. Thousands of innocent lives hung above her head, they probably would kill her at the first second if they weren't dead. She just couldn't feel guilt and feel sorry about everyone. It would risk her. Selfishly, she had to remain the bloodthirsty bitch that everyone hated, because she didn't want to die. So she would kill.
Power was what she wanted, and power was what she would get. Strike fear, chaos, and people would bow, break before her. This gave her satisfaction and most certainly not guilt. To feel guilt in her mind was to make her weak. After all, a killer with morals and ethics just could not exist.
"Yiiiiiiaahhhhh!" The long black haired beauty-beast let out a strong yell, as she struck her sword once again, feeling her voice resonate within her body, and she liked it. She saw the face of the fallen, saw that she couldn't be older than herself, and pulled her sword out of the girl's body.
She felt a bit better now. With a satisfactory little smirk, she wiped her red-dripping blade on another corpse, and returned it to her leather scabbard on her back.
She stopped her horse, and stared at the crimson party before her eyes. The houses on the street were all dancing with fire, and her army, once scattered, were now returning to stand behind their ferocious leader. She would address them now, although she didn't really know what she should do next. Hit the next town? But she felt content. The guilt somewhat subsided to the backburner of her consciousness now.
"Mommy…?" The scrawny voice made her head turn, and she saw, on the dirt, a young girl crawling from a house, flames and all that, while coughing softly.
And the princess felt it again. And she wanted to be completely numb, so that she couldn't. She felt her nails dig in her palm. Her lips were pressed tightly, and she didn't want to feel like this. So weak, like she empathized, understood what they were going through. She didn't need this. She snatched a bow from an archer beside her, and didn't forget for an arrow. She aimed; pulled her arm back, let her fingers go. She turned right after then, throwing the weapon to the ground. She didn't need to look; she knew she had complete accuracy.
Although the coughing stopped, what she felt didn't. She convinced herself again, that it was necessary, and once again, was frustrated that she actually had to convince herself. Would anyone else know? See that somewhere inside of her, there was a part of her that wanted to miss. She bit the insides of her lower lip, wanted them to bleed. Taste something, smell something, see something; she needed to distract herself. As she directed her horse to return to the campgrounds, she watched the sun set over the hills. It was red like the fire. Like the blood.
What a fucking day.
Just Xena in this one.Thanks for reading :)
