The Fact of Existing

Chapter 2: Howell

"My name is Raven. I am Raven Snow" I repeat the words every hour. Routine is everything. Without routine I'd break apart- my humanity would break apart. I've always imagined that my soul would split down its centre, ripping my body apart as the last part of me that's human escapes towards the freedom that it'll never have. If I give the human part of my soul the freedom it deserves, I cannot refuse the bloodsucking creature the freedom it wants. And that creature must stay shackled in the pit of my core.

I look around at the dark basement I've confined myself to, watching as the blood of the dead bear I killed flows into the grate in the centre of the room. I think the red liquid looks beautiful, almost like the crimson paint back in the lodge I call home.

Then I remember it wasn't my home. It never was. It's my cell. I think of the bars on the windows, bars I could have easily broken- I just didn't want my Lord to know of the strength my skinny limbs possess.

I only have to think of the hell I've escaped from to remember why this liquid isn't beautiful. This liquid means death. It means that I'm a murderer.

I stroke the bear's fur; it didn't deserve to die. I had thought that perhaps its blood would satisfy my thirst but the Gods didn't wish it so.

The bear's fur is softer than I expected it to be.

"My name is Raven. I am Raven Snow," I repeat the words over and over again, trying to form a plan. My name is Raven. I am Raven Snow. My name is Raven…

Then I realise. I'm not who I used to be. I'm not the trusting child who believed my Lord knew what was best. I'm a warrior, the first rebel. I need a new name for myself. I pause, running my fingers through the dead bear's thick fur, trying to think of a title that I can be true to, a title as good as my new intentions.

A wise man once told me that if I went too far from home, I would lose my roots. Another told me that if I killed too many people, and I would forget myself.

I smile, remembering the speakers. They needed me. But who needs me? I'll just let them down.

With this thought in my head, I twist their names around, crushing them together, moulding them into a new identity for myself. I will live up to their expectations.

"My name is Howell. I am Howell Bones."

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"Evil is a point of view. God kills indiscriminately and so shall we. For no creatures under God are as we are, none so like him as ourselves." - ριяяιρ