I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.
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The Executioner
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The grand hall of Mount Pillar. Most of the Danian hive could crowd into this place if they wanted to. With so many of the hive outside of Mount Pillar fighting the war, the ones left behind do all fit inside. And everyone wants to. They all want to see Phelphor die.
My heart is pounding, and breathing is difficult. My palms sweat, and my mouth is dry. The stress is getting to me. All the hate in the air. Hatred of Phelphor. Justified hatred, but still hatred. I feel like I'm choking on it, choking on the Danians' fury even while they praise me.
"Osiris," Sarah says, "do you accept this task?"
The task... In all honesty, I don't want to be anywhere near the grand hall when it happens. Still, what will happen if someone else accepts? Will this other creature have to strength to maintain civility? Or will he fall prey to fury and bloodlust? I don't know, and I don't want to allow the creation of a monster to fill the void Phelphor leaves behind.
"I accept," I say with a bow of my head.
...So... I've become Phelphor's executioner...
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The hall is packed... filled with thousands of furious faces... all of them itching for blood...
Phelphor is being march to the center, where a wooden thing waits... I almost want to call it an altar. I stand near the altar, waiting for Phelphor to be brought to me.
I expect the M'arrillian to struggle. I expect him to fight. He does neither. He hangs limply as the warriors on either side of him drag him along. His eyes stare downwards. His feet and knees drag along the ground.
I shift uncomfortably where I stand. Phelphor is being brought closer and closer. Insults are being thrown at him.
When do we turn into monsters? When we choose to do evil, yes. Still, when does righteous fury become wretched? I want to hate Phelphor. I don't want to become like him, though.
I'm confused, disoriented.
And now the warriors are tying Phelphor to the altar, lying on his back, facing up. It's my time now...
I tighten my grip on my greatsword. I'd... I'd forgotten I was holding it. The warriors step aside, and I step forward.
No fanfare. No speech. I just raise my sword above my head.
{you DiD THiS To Me DReaMeR...}
Phelphor is staring at me. I'm frozen where I stand. Everyone has frozen, in fact.
{you CReaTeD THiS WoRLD iN youR MiND aND GaVe iT FoRM. you PLaCeD CReaTuReS HeRe, CRaFTiNG THieR MiNDS, BoDieS, and SouLS.}
I don't want to listen. I won't be lectured. Not by Phelphor.
{aLL oF THeSe PeoPLe, aLL THeSe CReaTuReS, THey HaVe WHaT THey HaVe, THey aRe WHo THey aRe, BeCauSe you SaiD So.}
Stop it.
{The MiPeDiaNS STRuGGLe FoR WaTeR BeCauSe youR MiND SayS So. THe DaNiaNS ThiNK So MuCH aBouT SeX BeCauSe youR MiND SayS So. THe uNDeRWoRLDeRs aND oVeRWoRLDeRS HaTe eaCH oTHeR BeCauSe youR MiND SayS So.}
I order you to stop!
Phelphor's eyes harden. {i'M a MoNSTeR BeCauSe youR MiND SayS So!}
My arms swing down. My blade cleaves through Phelphor's neck and buries itself into the wood of the altar. The M'arrillians head rolls backwards, off the altar and onto the floor. Blood pours out from his neck, blood and blood and blood...
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"...Did I pass out?" I ask when I open my eyes.
"Not immediately," Theb-sarr says. "You turned around and walked out the hall like you were in some kind of trance first."
I sit up, then step out of the bed. "I'm returning to Al Mipedim immediately."
"What made this different, Osiris?" Theb-sarr asks. "You've killed twice before that I know of."
"Elco was an accident," I mutter. "The kha'rall, it was a matter of life or death. This... this was murder."
"Osiris," Theb-sarr says firmly, "do not let the Danians hear you say that."
"I won't," I say. "I'm not even saying it shouldn't have happened, because it needed to happen. I just..." I stare at my hands. "Theb-sarr, I liked it."
Theb-sarr's eye ridges raise, but he doesn't say anything.
I flex my fingers. "I felt him die, and I liked it... There was a thrill in my chest when his head rolled off the table, a joy in my gut as I watched him bleed... I-I wanted to lick the gore from the sword..."
I feel a pair of strong hands on top of my head. Theb-sarr quietly says, "Is that you? Do you enjoy slaughter?"
"No," I automatically say.
"Then close your eyes," says the Mipedian king.
I do so, and...
"Push it away," Theb-sarr orders. "Push Phelphor's influence from your mind."
...Of course... When he spoke to me... It's so clear now.
Destroying that false part of me is easy now that I know it's not mine. I crush it and allow it to disappear.
Theb-sarr embraces me. "You are not a monster."
Not a monster. A killer, yes, but not a monster.
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Many days have passed. The Danians are officially our allies.
I find my family. To Isis's surprise and delight, I hug her. I hold her tight and I kiss her. Then I let Hera hug me. Jupiter, well, he's still scared, but that will pass.
This is not the end of the war. However, it is the end of my torment.
I will not be afraid anymore.
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Up next: The Endgame Approaches
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Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.
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