𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗘𝗗 - Hermitcraft Hellhole. Or Tartarus. Whatever works.

Dead Things Don't Die Twice

     He should be dead, they know, as they quickly secure him, not noticing the small knife he has hidden, that he will disappear before they find a new thing to cage him, to kill him. He cannot die, he told them. He is immortal, he told them. Now they realized how true it is.

     (The King is dueling him. He is smarter, faster, he laughs at the adrenaline, at the feeble swings The King sends to him. The King is weak, he is old. Whereas he will be forever young, forever broken, maybe.

     The King is now more angry than ever. The King cannot grasp why he is doing this. Why he has killed hundreds and is now laughing at him.

     Oh, Damien, you don't understand why. We need change, and change is why I have done all of this. The Deserter says, gesturing at the bodies, the fire he has made, the screams still piercing the air.

      You have no laws that have done any good at all. You changed a few meaningless things, but not the discrimination that is still afoot. You turn your eye to the bigger problems, thinking that they are not important, but they are. The Deserter tells, but he is insane, The King -- or Damien, as The Deserter says -- The King knows this.

    So he tells The Deserter so.

     And The Deserter laughs. You are not meant to understand, yet you are so supposedly bright! I am changing things, you should know, I am doing the right thing, as you are too blind to realize.)

      The Void, it was supposed to work, yet it didn't. It was supposed to work. It was supposed to work. That is the only thing The King thinks. Now The Deserter is on the loose again, because The Void didn't work. Because The Deserter was already dead. How could that be, though.

      (He is smiling up at his Dad. He doesn't realize what is wrong, why his father is so furious, why he is shaking. His father raises a hand, and he is confused, what is his father doing? He finds out a second later, as the hand comes down, and his cheek is stinging in pain.

      He stares up at his father with wide eyes, vision blurring slightly with tears from the pain and the shock. His father just hit him, he realizes slowly, as his hand gently brushes his cheek.

      This is your fault. His father announces slowly, he wants to ask for what, but he is too scared to. This is your fault. His father repeats again, something sparking in his eyes. Go to your room.

      He starts towards the stairs, he is still confused on why his father is so angry at him. What did he do? But his father is already there, glaring at him with something he does not recognize. That's not your room. His father snaps at him.

     B-but why? He asks, and immediately regrets it. His father storms towards him, before grabbing his arm and dragging him towards a cupboard, and shoving him inside, before a lock clicks.

     This panics him, as he has never been very good in the dark, and the cupboard is very small, barely enough for him to stretch out. He wants to scream, but he thinks that it will make his father lash out more.

     He curls up into a ball, hoping that this is just a bad dream, or maybe he had done something to annoy his father. Maybe when this is over it will get better.

       It doesn't.)

        He shuffles along again, the chains clanking. This is the only noise, even the dull murmur of the guards from before he went into The Void has stopped. They are afraid of him, even more than before, because before they thought he would die, that he was just making this all up.

     He wasn't.

     Fear is nothing to him, he has been feared for as long as he knows, fear is nothing new to him, either fear from himself or others. He has also been hated for as long as he knows, from himself and others. He is feeling more hollow than before, the words that were spoken still ringing in his ears. For some reason he feels more broken than before he stepped through the Void.

     (His father tried to 'fix' him once. The only thing he managed to do was break him even more.)

    The King has vanished a long time ago, to where he doesn't know. He doesn't particularly care either. He knows he can escape, he wants to, but he is tired at the moment. And completely out of his mind.

     (He doesn't understand how he became the champion of his people, it just happened. So he fought and killed for his people. But it wasn't enough, was it? It wasn't enough that there was blood on his hands, that he could taste blood in his mouth, he could still feel the blood on his skin, and he still smelled blood.

      Or he still woke up at night screaming, seeing people die and asking why he couldn't save him.

    Maybe he is just too broken to understand why they ask for more.)

      The Void suited him. All lost things and broken things found their way here, from what he saw. Though he doubts dead things came there too.

Dead things don't die twice. 

  

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        You can intrepert whichever hermit you want for this, but I was writing this more as Hels than anyone else. Also I didn't edit this.