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