Path of Shadow

Chapter 3: In The Future

 A thousand years pass.

       I begin to uncurl my stiff, newly-formed body. I have been laying here in a ball for a millennia. I stand up, and stretch out my flesh, feeling sweet release from the confines of my subconscious. Time to wreak some havoc. I warp to a random town, anywhere but Keriski. I walk up to the nearest door and shut off whatever technology they used for security. In fact, I shut off all of the technology in the house, and kick the door down, hearing screams inside. I pull Uranium out of its sheath and charge in, grabbing a random member of the family and dragging him into the shadows, where I warp to a small building in the grassy fields where I usually reside. I shove him in and lock the door, then warping back to the town, by the name of Genera. I bust down another door to another house and stare at the futuristic look of the home, as a thousand years is quite a long time. I grab the mother of this family, and hear her children, a boy and a small girl, scream for me to release her, but this is my time to attack, and I shove the woman into the same small building I put the man in earlier. Upon teleporting back to Genera, I see guns risen up at me.

          "You think that will do anything, filthy mortals?" I sneer, and their eyes grow wide as they realise who I am. They drop their weapons and scatter, and I grab two of the men, warping back to home, and adding them to the man and the mother already there. Smiling, I add victim after victim to the small building, until no more can fit.

          "There is no leaving," I say, smirking, laughing maniacally. I gently touch the hand of one of the guys, and draw him out; I close the door. My mind in pure tranquil, I push him down. Drawing Uranium, I set the tip of the sword on the man's collarbone.

          "Darkness is back, baby."

          His eyes widen with fear as Uranium is thrust through his heart, and he slumps over, dead.

          "Now that is what I call a treat," I say with a smile as I cut the pentagram into the back of the man's neck. I decide to take him to Genera and dump him in the water canals.

          And I do so.

          Going back to my grassy fields, I take the mother from before out, and I hold her shirt, a terrified look on her face, tears streaming down her cheeks.

          "A family must be nice," I say, "Love, love everywhere. But there is no love here. Not in my icy heart." I penetrate her conscious, and she tries to scream, but can't. I analyze her mind, looking at the mental images of her children, which she, I know, will never see again. I surround her consciousness with mine, squeezing tighter, and tighter, until it has been winked out completely. Her face softens with the acceptance of her death, and she goes limp. I let go of her shirt, and she drops to the grass, her eyes and mouth open, as if in awe. Death, it's satisfying. I know what it feels like to die. But, as an immortal spirit, I come back from any death. Any possible death that anyone can think of. I go and take out another victim, and I push him to the ground, by hand clenched around his neck. I kneel on top of him, and squeeze my hand tighter, hearing him try to gasp for air, as his struggles become weaker, and weaker, until a spasm goes through his body, a signal of his near death. He stops trying to struggle, and he spasms again. His face has turned white from strain and lack of air. Finally, he spasms for the last time, and I get to see the light leave his eyes as he slowly passes away. I take my hand off of his neck, clenching and stretching the cramp out of it.

          "Hahaha!" I shout, overjoyed by the excitement of killing harmless people. That's three dead, ten to go. The next one is what seems to be a middle-aged man. I hold him by his hair, and use my sharp, knife-like fingernails to slit his throat, and I drop him. He writhes on the ground, and weakly chokes out. I bring out the next victim, which is a small child. He screams and cries, begging to be brought back to his mother.

          "Shut up, if you know what's good for you!" I hiss through clenched teeth, and the child immediately snaps his mouth shut, only letting out small whimpers. I hold him by the head as I reach for my pocket knife. I hold it with the handle facing toward me, and smirk as I thrust the knife down, cutting the child open, blood pouring everywhere. I lick what blood there is on my fingers as he screams, but they become quieter as he slowly dies. The child's eyes flutter and shut, his head slumping forward with his consciousness slips from him.

          "Strangely, I am both satisfied and disturbed," I say aloud to myself, and it's true. Somehow, I don't like killing children as much as adults, even though it's all the more evil, all the more satisfyingly twisted. I wade through the thick, tall, moonlit grass to bring out the next victim. She dies by my knife twisting through her heart. The next dies of a heart attack as soon as he sees my evil smile. My next victim, an old man by the look of it, just dies of natural causes. Another one dies, after I ripped off his arm and watched him bleed to death. The same goes for the next, except I decapitate him. Another two I kill at the same time, stabbing both of my dual-swords through their stomachs.

          I turn to the last one, and I can tell he is a young man with nothing to live for, and say, "I decide to spare you. Take this gift as a token of my affection." I place my hand on his head, and give him immortality.

          "What did you just do to me?" He asks.

          "I gave you immortality. You charm me for some reason, so I will keep you alive. I am Tankra, the Spirit of Darkness, but I'm pretty sure you already know me," I respond.

          "My name is Glaseron. It is an honor to be in your presence, let alone be given immortality," Glaseron says, and bows.

          "Well, I guess that's settled then," I say.