Guard and Scythe

Whispers

Pain.

Knife stabbed in your back; blood dripping down your skin. Watch the red drip down onto the floor.

Agony.

Claws tearing through your skin ripping it apart like fabric. Listen. Listen as its be torn off your bones.

Locked inside my own head. I am banging on the walls, screaming, begging someone to come and let me out.

Your pounding heart begins to fly off. You wish it would take you away with it. Why wouldn't someone let you die already?

The world kept fading in and out of sight. Blurry flashes. The pictures I kept seeing only made me want to cry. I was scared. My stomache was compulsing, acid churning over and over until I was so dizzy that even the darkness began to spin in circles.

Consumed by my raging anger, and swallowed by my trembling fear, I could only lie still like corspe to await for the end.

It will never end. Death has ensured that.

Fire licked at the bone beneath my skin, and my blood began to dry inside my viens and shivel away into dust. I could hear people chanting. A circle drawing in closer on my. I could sense their feet near my head. I could feel the dirt picked up by their feet scatter around me.

My heart. I gasp aloud for the first time. I can feel it stutter against my chest. My flying heart dropped like a stone into the ocean; and down it began to sink into the dark depths, the currents rocking it gently. I begin scream, clawing at my chest, begging it not to leave me.

And then it was over. The once lively heart beat once more. And then I was alone. The last peice of Trisnae, the girl I was had disappeared.

*                     *                       *                        *                          *                          *

Awakening. The begining of my eternal night has commenced. I open my eyes and look up at the cloaked figure above me. I feel a rush of emotion. Loyalty. What ties me to this figure now, that didn't before? I twist into a kneel at the hem of the figure's dark cloak. My nose prickles as I smell the cold emenating from the fabric.

"Rise Trisnae," the figure's deep moaning voice commands. My head and back feel like they're being pulled upwards. It's like I am attached to strings, like a puppet. I stand, and face my Master.

He reaches his hand out, and puts one long spidery finger over my heart. It's so cold, that even the thin fabris serving as the only barrier between my skin and his finger, stiffens.

He draws his finger back, sending a wave of relief through me, but then he reaches out and grabs ahold of both my hands. He holds them just above my head. He's so strong that only the tips of my toes are dragging on the ground now. I hold still. Before, if someone were to hold me up like this, it would have hurt my arms. My skin would have been burned by the cold touch of his hands. Now, all I feel is discomfort. The fear factor hasn't changed though.

He glides across the floor, still holding me so that I am dangling from his hands. If I was still breathing, it would be rugged and might hitch in my throat. Now I appear lifeless, like an oversized ragdoll. The floors we pass over and filthy. Caked in grime and dirt and endless pools of blood. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a pool of the crimson liquid. My eyes have become black slits. They glistened like bug's eyes. My body is thin and bony. You can see my sharpt cheekbones jutting out and the deep hallow in my neck. White scaly skin is stretched over bones like wax paper. I don't even know how I should feel about seeing myself reflected as this monster.