Black rose city. A dismal desolate place where people come to die. Why ever those fools who wear white coats and call themselves doctors sent me here is beyond me. It’s foolish. ‘he was too rash,’ they told me. I know whom they speak to, and it is no surprise. That man is one of hubris. He sees himself as a god; and will expect the utmost respect.
He's a pompous prick and I hate him.
I hate all of them, to be honest. They think they are above the wrath of God.
I look around at the carnage I have made. They are all alive, slowly dying from the neurotoxins in their blood. I know there are more. Mainly women and children. I haven’t the heart to kill them. They wear tear-stained clothing, and their hands are bound.
I leave them there. I already showed them my mercy. They can whimper and whine all they please I will not be swayed.
Rain soaked my clothing. Blood washing off my skin was down onto the wooden boards of the dockyard. I don’t know how I got here but it didn’t matter. I unclipped the straps of my mask and placed all my belongings in a leather bag I’d stolen a while ago.
I made my way to the main docks, where I knew there would be people. It was packed. I made my way through with ease. I wondered if those men were dead now? Most likely.
I pulled out an old rusting pocket watch. The glass was brown, and the back was tinted with age, but it still ticked. It was half past nine at night. The cold was biting into my skin as I walked further and further down the docks. The whole place felt uneasy. People yelling and bargaining. Something was wrong.
I culched the strap of my bag and looked around. What was wrong. I started to walk faster. I needed to escape. The wind swirled around me, and the crowd was gone, only five remained.
A girl who wore the skull of a wolf, a tight black shirt, loose black pants that tightened around her ankles and a yellow sash around her waist. She had long hair that was black and bright green.
Next to her was a tall thin man who wore, a black body suit with a wide collar, a dark green cloak that was ragged, and a fake rib cage on his torso. He had long shaggy blonde hair and a mask that look like a cartoon skeleton.
There was another guy. This one was buff. With warm brown skin and dark red hair. His eyes were black, and ink and he had a small scar on his lip. He wore a crown of bright red flowers and held a glowing spear. Guess he wasn’t dead after all.
There was another girl, she had long white hair in a Nordic braid. She had baggy brown pants that were wrapped in the black fabric around her ankles. She wore arm guards a tight grey top and the pelt of a wolf. Her face was covered in war paint.
I turned to run but a sword was pointed at my chest. The bulletproof chest plate, a tight black body suit that covered her right arm and ended at her fingers, the combat boots, and short loose pants. The knee pads and the mask with the glowing blue slits. Her hair was like water tied in a braid; her eyes burned my soul.
She should be dead, and I was surrounded. I scanned my surroundings boxed in, the only way out was up. I stared at her; sword pointed at my chest. She looked familiar. I pushed it to the back of my mind and kicked her square in the stomach. She fell backwards and I took off down the docks looking for a way to the roofs.
I was violently yanked back and thrown into the air by the one with the wolf skull. She was just like him. I hated him.
She caught me again just before I hit the ground. They didn’t celebrate. They stood their ground, guards high. The Anglerfish had gotten back up and walked over to me calmly. She was holding my bag and grabbed my mask from the inside.
“You know without your weapons your just some kid.”
They didn’t know. I didn’t give them a tell just indulged them.
“You have killed multiple people, and injured two members of henbane, my people, my friends. I might not know your name,”
“It’s Gilbert,” I joked.
She punched me.
“Ow, you have a strong punch!” I laughed. “Say you should be a boxer.”
“Quiet, you’re under arrest!”
“No, I don’t think I am.”
The wolf skull girl screamed in two voices. Strange. The black tendril holding me aloft sizzled and snapped. Acid. I landed and aimed for Anglerfish’s Achilles. She dogged and kicked me. I just kept going. A spear landed Infront of me. I looked back and the White hair girl and making her way towards me.
“Wow you guys just don’t give up do you? Whatever.”
I grabbed her arm, and tried to break it, but she yanked it free and kneed me in the stomach. I coughed, as she threw me to the ground. Skeletal hands grabbed at me. I saw the red haired one tend to Wolf Skull’s wound. The blonde looked focused, and whips of smoke curled around his body.
The necromancer, I realised. The pest.
The white-haired woman placed her hands on my head. Cold seeped into my bones, and I started to feel weak. I didn’t have my bag anymore. I didn’t have anything. I pushed and pulled trying to break free of the pain.
I screamed and tried to bite, but the cold was over whelming now, and I was becoming sleepy. So sleepy…
Screaming, can from behind me I just needed to run. Forget my bag and my mask just run, I didn’t care anymore. I was so cold and starting to feel afraid.
I ran all the way to the train station, I closed my eyes and slept.
I awoke to a monster looming over my face. I screamed and scrambled back, then sighed when I realised who it was.
“Mother,” I smiled. Mother was a tall thin creature with a feminine body. It had long greasy hair and green skin. Over its entire body mushroom grew even in its throat. It was animalistic.
‘hello,’ it signed. Since Mother couldn’t speak it learned other means of communication.
“child,” A raspy voice sounded from beside it. It was an empty voice. From the shadows stepped another creature. It was tall and twisted from its pours poison seeped. Its eyes were clouded, and you could see the poison flowing in its veins. It looked like a man.
“Father,” I smiled as its hand reaching out to pat me on the head.
They weren’t my real mother and father. I was not their child, but something about those titles just felt right.
Mother cupped my face with its long bony hand. ‘what’s on your face?’ it singed. I didn’t know. Father grabbed a reflective tray that was stained with blood. Sure, enough on my temples my skin was black and blue.
Frost bite.
“Bitch,” I growled under my breath. Mother made a strange sound in its throat. Father chuckled.
“Sorry,” I said, pressing my fingers to the affected skin. Mother went into the shadows. I could hear it doing something up I wasn’t sure what. Father followed it and came back with a mouldy rag. Placing it around my shoulders. When mother returned it was holding a bowl of what seemed to be soup. I took and drank, the warm making me feel better almost immediately. It pressed it fingers to my temples and grabbed a second rag, that it had dunked in warm water. It make sure the effected skin looked at least normal before ruffling my hair and taking the now empty bowl of soup.
I started to feel tired again. I decided I’d lay down on the cold damp floor and just nap for a while. Mother had started making more strange noises in an almost sing song sort of way. Father hummed along with its melody. I tried to sing along to the song. It was so familiar.
I feel asleep quickly, when I awoke again I was back in my strange room, in my cell. Tucked into bed. The memory of the music still so fresh in my head; I started humming to drown out the screams from across the hall…
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