The Other One

The Wails of a Scorned Soul

"I don't understand?! How's this fair?"

"It's his job, what could we do?"

"I don't know, use his fucking eyes?!" You ranted furiously, anger fuming out of you. Zafiya rolled her eyes in response.

"Get over here," she sighed as she called you over. You huffed as you walked over, eyebrows still scrunched in anger. "And stop acting like a baby, you're 14 now, for god's sake."

"Then tell that man to start acting like a man, instead of being pissed at being confronted!" You blabbered like an angry child, and pouted when Zafiya flicked your forehead with a finger. "Ow, that hurt.."

"Keep talking, and it's gonna get worse," she threatened as she pulled at your shoulders and put your head over her lap. You made an action of silencing your mouth and grinned when Zafiya gave a smug nod of approval.

You both chatted away the afternoon, as Zafiya played with your hair, braiding it then opening those braids and combing with her fingers. She then picked a book that was placed by her side as she read through it, while you took a nap in her comfort.

***

Blood dripped, turning the ground a shade of pink. Tears poured, making the ground wet. Screams filled the air, cries of anguish echoing off the surroundings.

The cycle kept repeating, the same sequence events, there was no end for this. When would it end? Give way to some respite or closure? It felt like an eternity had passed since it began, and yet, it felt as if it would carry on for eternity. It was endless, a perpetuity of pain and misery. Why did it have to continue? Why couldn't it just stop?

The gentle murmurings, the comforting caress, the tender kisses, and the joy and love.

Has it all disappeared? Has the blissful time passed forever, washed away and dissolved in the endless stream of tears?

The mind continues to beat its own walls, clawing at its own sheets. It talks incessantly, but the words are nothing but pure nonsense. It poses a hypothetical, a never-ending 'what if?', only to descend once more into a whirlwind of anger and blame.

So a thought crosses, like an angry wave, a building storm; what if peace was chosen over war?

***

Gliding through the open air, pushing through the towering buildings like they were nothing but frail obstacles. One rooftop after another, as you proceeded from one point to the next. Bodies filled the ground, scattered everywhere, as soldiers had begged and cried for forgiveness. People were ripped asunder, split like broken dolls into halves. The violence and bloodshed was overwhelming, but you ignored to endure it all.

Slashing through the nape with a violent swing of your sword, digging deep inside the titan's flesh as you extracted chunks of the meaty core from within. Blood dribbled on the blade and splattered on to you, while you observed the decomposing body, which rapidly disintegrated into nothing but thin air. The process repeated itself endlessly, with no burden upon the being's shoulders, no laws or rules to restrict it, and no anguish to be felt. It just disappeared time and time again.