Evil gerbil D: Ok, It's finally hear, the final chapter of Slipping into the darkness. I hope that you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Gi Oh.
5
Screams rang in my ears. More then anything, I wanted to help them, they where in pain. But my legs wouldn't move, I couldn't control them! Why? Why can't I help them? I want to help more then anything, so why can't I? In their eyes, I saw confusion, sorrow and pain unlike any other. I wondered what they saw in mine. Hate? I was sure. But I had a reason to hate. Across the room, the priest laughed. He was covered in blood. It must feel good, knowing that you have killed countless innocents, and not caring. My heart still aches with every soul that has been lost because of me. The priest looks at me and smiles. How can he smile while I am in such pain? He mocks me. I hated it. Without thinking, I attacked. As I started punching him, he laughed. I hated that laugh more then anything, so I hit harder. Still he laughed. No amount of pain could silence him. Exhausted, I pulled back. He laughed once more and disappeared into a puddle of blood. I looked down, knowing what I would see, but unable to stop myself. I hear a slow drip of blood on blood. I look down and saw the puddle of blood, and see my own face, dyed a deep crimson red. I turn away, try to shield my eyes, but my hands too are seeped in blood. They burn with the pain of a hundred cuts, but I have to wonder- is it my blood or the blood of others that dye my hands this eternal red?
I woke up with a start. That dream again! I thought angrily. There was sweat on my brow, and I could feel my body tremble. Regardless of all that I had been through, I was still afraid of nightmares. Nightmares caused by stress, fatigue, and, most of all, guilt. Guilt that in fact the dream was partially true, and I didn't admit it, that my hands where in fact covered in blood, and having that constant fear that I would become what I hate the most. A cold hearted murderer. I pushed the thought aside. It won't happen like that. It's different with me. I will always remember my purpose in life. How could I forget? I had been training vigorously ever since that day. I have learned how to throw knives, shoot a bow, and ride a horse. However, no one seemed to want to take me as their apprentice, so I had to get the equipment elsewhere. With absolutely no money, I had to steal things (food, weapons, etc.) I never questioned the morals of what I did. It was simply just what I had to do. I would not let anything or anyone stand in my way of returning the items to Kuru Eruna. Once they where there, I would see to it that no one would ever take them away from the stone tablet, and that the outside world would never see them again. Never again. Never.
I'm not sure when the desire to return the items to there proper place in Kuru Eruna evolved into the obsessive lust that I have grown accustomed to. I also don't know when I first began to dance along with the crazed melody that was my life. I guess it was because I had become so fatalistic, I hardly even thought of my own needs. My entire life was to get the items, to keep them away from the Pharaoh and his men, and make sure that they never would fall into their hand again. After all, what right did they have to own them? What right did anyone have to take them? Had they known the people who made up the items energy? Have they ever felt a pain so great, that it shreds their very soul? And besides, if the Pharaoh kept on fooling himself by thinking that the items would promote justice, then he never would be able to use there full potential. They where obviously made for evil purposes, and would probably never answer to the pharaohs cries of justice.
Justice. I still don't understand that word. What does it mean? And how can someone kill innocent people in the name of it? How is that just? How can people just sit back and watch as terrible things are going on right underneath their noses? Is that just? Why do they automatically think that just because the pharaoh did it, it is ok? Is it so easy for them to twist the facts until all that remains are lies and biased remarks? Or do they tell them no truth at all? Is there any true justice in this world? Or is the world itself just a fabrication as well? How do the ignorant townspeople see the Pharaoh? How do they see me? Am I one of those people that parents tell their children to stay away from? Yes, hide children. Some of my knowledge might rub off on you. What do they know? They have been feed nothing but lies. They are the Pharaohs' servants after all. He can't risk loosing them with the truth. Now tell me, is that justice? Is there any such thing as justice at all? Sometimes I wonder.
The End
