Path of Hate

A/N: Alright! I actually have a cover! XD 

Actually, I'm being less serious because this is a post to see if I should actually begin to write the rest of the story. This part was written and posted to my blog in celebration of my finishing of Viadante (I'm not sure if my friend had stolen it from somewhere, as I'm sure that I've heard it somewhere before...)

Chronologically, this takes place somewhere near the middle of the story, but as I've said, its only to gauge interest in my writing's content and/or style. In any case, leave a comment on what you think of it, shall I write out the entire story, or leave it?

Path of Hate

Winter Massacre

Snow fell softly from the sky, covering the spilled blood that stained the earth. The village was silent, not a sound, only glassy eyes stared up at the sky in an unholy prayer. Still more blood was to be spilt on the furthermost reaches of the small settlement, the home of the village leader.

She darted through the large wooden home with unrelenting speed, her black scythe cutting down soldiers and servants without fail. The dark weapon spun in her fingers, a whirlwind of death as she searched for the leader in blind rage, paying no heed to any efforts against her. Dark shadows swooped upwards to snuff out candles, around her body to destroy doors, and across her torso to cut into whoever may be in her way. She came to heavy double doors, one usually guarded by the people that were creating shallow pools of red at her feet. Drawing her arm up into a wide ark, the point of the black blade facing the door drew a long slash across the thick wood, then falling into four pieces to reveal a man dressed in silks, sipping at a cup of tea. Eyes slightly tainted with panic turned towards the bloodstained girl in front of him, and he placed his cup on the table, and took a deep breath in to greet the girl, attempting to buy some time. He moved to speak, but was cut off abruptly.

“YOU! YOU ORDERED THEM TO KILL HIM!” The girl’s silver orbs gained a mad glint, filled to the brim with hatred.

The man looked up sharply, “I ordered them to drive him ou-” She interrupted again, “BUT THEY KILLED HIM!”

He rose from his seated position, bravely meeting the sharp edge of the scythe, “So you wish to take my life in exchange for his?” He paused at the slightly insane grin that bloomed on the small girl’s face. (He vaguely noted that she was a rather petite girl, and even coated in blood, did not look as if she was able to hurt even an insect)

“You think that this blood is mine? I ALREADY ERASED THIS ENTIRE GODFORSAKEN VILLAGE! You, are the only one left that needs to take responsibility…” Her eyes narrowed as he dusted himself off, and make a move to leave.

“DO YOU INTEND TO EXTINGUISH THIS VILLAGE FOR THE VENGEANCE OF ONE PERSON?!”

Angry tears fell from her eyes, her teeth grinding against each-other in an attempt to stall the oncoming outburst.

“That one person was my world, and I don’t care how many need to die to satiate my bloodlust. You took away my happiness just as I found it again.”

“Now that you have gained your revenge, let me leave this place to tend to the dead.”

“Tell me one reason I shouldn’t kill you.”

“I… must take care of what remains of this village”

Her coldly impassive face twisted into one of rage, and took his head off with a single rotation of her massive scythe.

His body was left without any ceremony or fanfare, for there was no one left to mourn.

The snow crunched under her ribbon bound feet, her scythe dropping to rest at her side, crimson droplets trailed down in endless streams onto the pristine snow. Her head snapped to a couple engaged in quiet whispering and her calmed eyes flared once again with dark emotions. She was upon them in a gust of wind, and took their lives in a gleam of her frozen blade. Lifeless bodies fell to the ground; their heads separated from their bodies tumbled down the slight hill to rest a slight distance away, mouths open in silent screams. The small boy fell back in stunned shock, his mind yet to register his parents’ deaths.

She glared down at him in quiet impasse, hating what he represented. The life she was about to have.

When he saw the blood smeared over her hands, splattered over skin, and permeated through her black robes, he came to accept reality, and scrambled away in fear. The bloodied girl’s sneer faded, and eyes turned into a mellow sorrow. The weapon in her hand shifted to a small hairpin, which she used to tie back the boy’s ice blue hair. He flinched back, and she winced at his response to her touch.

She became what she had hated, all those years ago. The fear in the boy’s eyes, his stiffness, the pain, it all reminded her of her brother when their parents were ripped away from them.

She gathered the small bundle into her arms, apologizing with tearful whispers, shielding the defenseless child from winter winds.

The little boy asked, “Aren’t you cold?”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, and her vision blurred with frozen tears, “This pain, this hate, they all hurt so much, I can’t even feel the ice biting into my feet, and the Arctic winds can only feel like a dull ache… I’m blinded by rage, and dulled by pain, this world, I can’t feel it any more…” Her body straightened as she thought about what she has done, pulling away from the small child.

He wrapped his little arms around her stomach, giving her an unexpected hug. “Can you feel this, pretty lady?” Tears leaked from her eyes and dripped from her chin, not registering from the shock of getting a piece of comfort from a child she orphaned. She leaned down to wrap her own arms around him, and mumbled into his icy hair, “Yes, Lonchal, you feel warm,” and held the child closer.

“Pretty lady, you’re really warm too…” She shook her head, as he finally thought to ask for her name. “I’m Viadan- no, I’m Accrosia, do you want to come with me?”

-Winter Massacre, END-