Cebrious Arcane-hybrid
Wanderer
A Tale of Murder: 1
“Perhaps if you give me an example, Cebrious.”
“An example?”
“Yes, an example of the Murderers Incorporated in action.”
“Have you ever been in jail?”
“Yes, I have seen the cold dead walls of prison.”
“I too have been jailed, and therein lies my example for you. There’s something about you…yes, I have a story for you. My memory has faded some…but…ah, yes, now I remember…a worthless thief…”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back in the cell again, my thoughts were racing as they always did when I got locked in the cage. That painful voice tearing a hole in the back of my head, “Murder, murder murder…” Locked in this cell only made the voices louder, and the headaches more agonizing. Trapped with this waste of flesh, petty thief. A pilferer, a few coins here or there, living off what others throw away, why? And now you burden me with you stupidity and ask me what my story is? I’ll tell you my story…
“I’m a murderer,” I said. His eyes grew wide for a moment, and then shrank back to a squint, still trying to adjust to the darkness.
“Oh?” he asked in feigned calm, barely containing his erupting fear, “Do you enjoy your profession?” His voice quaked and it made my acrid heart grin.
“It’s not a profession, boy, it is all I know.” I eyed the warhammer the guard carried.
Only one guard? How odd. I expected more…
The flesh-bag I shared a cell with also eyed the guard. His eyes, however, fell upon the key ring dangling from the guard’s belt. That sound, that metal on metal sound… battle… war… murder. The flesh-bag was now against the bars, trying to get the attention of the guard, casually blathering on about all the worthless things they care about. He casually glanced back at me, and I grinned envisioning what his blood tasted like. His smile made me want to put his face through the wall. But he knew his craft well. After a few distractions the thief had acquired the keys. The key to My freedom. He giggled to himself and retracted back to the corner.
His voice reminds me of sheep being slaughtered.
“How long are you in for?” His mood now lightened with pride from his success.
“I’m awaiting my method of execution.” I calmly replied. The voices were rising. I could feel my heartbeat quickening, and the sweat begin to flow. “Murder, murder, murder…” I wanted it…I needed it…I am Murder! My head was pounding, I clenched my jaw. Not yet, not yet…
“I was born in Vesper, boy, my parents were slaughtered. I grew up alone,” always alone only accompanied by the headaches, “If I wanted something, I would take it, if I needed something, it was already mine, I just hadn’t acquired it yet.”
“Ah, so you see!” he replied jovially, “We are not so different after all!”
Oh we’re different. My thoughts raced. You live off greed, scum, waste of flesh, murderers are my only true companions, those who know the taste of blood, those who yearn for the sigh. Ah that sigh… the final exhalation as the corpse falls limp, that gratifying sigh, that calming sigh, that sigh of relief…
“Hey mate! We can be good friends, you and me, and a great team! You be the muscle, and I’ll be the brains!” He said, as he moved closer to me, too close. I could smell his stench. He’ll be the brains…brain. The voices pounded, “Murder, murder, murder…”
The guard had fallen asleep. How fortunate. Not yet, I thought, still too soon. “Murder, murder, murder…” The headaches grew worse by the moment, coupled with this slaughtered lamb next to me, the sweat was now pouring down my face. I could feel my teeth chip as I ground them harder, and finally it was time. I stood up in an instant, the lamb still baaing at me. I grabbed his head in that oh so familiar way, one hand on the back of the head, one over the front jaw, and twist. I took my hand away and felt his last breath as his bloodshot, lifeless, eyes gazed up and through me, paralyzed with the fear of his last moment, and the headache stopped. I grabbed the keys and let myself out. A full meal in his belly, the guard was not roused from his sleep. I grabbed his warhammer. I let the metal of the hammer drag along the floor as I pulled it to arms length standing in front of the guard. He woke with a fright, only to see the flash of my grin as I brought the hammer down. He crumpled. I like how they crumple. The same way a child cringes in fear of a wolf.
I am the wolf, guard, and you are the child.
I used his blood to write a message to all who would read it…
“I am, but one, of the Murderers Incorporated. We have come to this land and we claim it as our own. Do not fear death, we deliver you into the open arms of death, and you are released from the agony of living. Wherever we go, we bring death, and we will come to you all. Life is merely a step on the path towards death, embrace death, your entire life has been leading to this exact moment.”
And I walked out…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So you see, it is all we know, all we do, how we live.”
“Yes, I do see…”
“Is this the life you choose?”
“Cebrious, I did not choose this life, I was born for this life.”
“Welcome to Murderers Incorporated, brother.”
“Perhaps if you give me an example, Cebrious.”
“An example?”
“Yes, an example of the Murderers Incorporated in action.”
“Have you ever been in jail?”
“Yes, I have seen the cold dead walls of prison.”
“I too have been jailed, and therein lies my example for you. There’s something about you…yes, I have a story for you. My memory has faded some…but…ah, yes, now I remember…a worthless thief…”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back in the cell again, my thoughts were racing as they always did when I got locked in the cage. That painful voice tearing a hole in the back of my head, “Murder, murder murder…” Locked in this cell only made the voices louder, and the headaches more agonizing. Trapped with this waste of flesh, petty thief. A pilferer, a few coins here or there, living off what others throw away, why? And now you burden me with you stupidity and ask me what my story is? I’ll tell you my story…
“I’m a murderer,” I said. His eyes grew wide for a moment, and then shrank back to a squint, still trying to adjust to the darkness.
“Oh?” he asked in feigned calm, barely containing his erupting fear, “Do you enjoy your profession?” His voice quaked and it made my acrid heart grin.
“It’s not a profession, boy, it is all I know.” I eyed the warhammer the guard carried.
Only one guard? How odd. I expected more…
The flesh-bag I shared a cell with also eyed the guard. His eyes, however, fell upon the key ring dangling from the guard’s belt. That sound, that metal on metal sound… battle… war… murder. The flesh-bag was now against the bars, trying to get the attention of the guard, casually blathering on about all the worthless things they care about. He casually glanced back at me, and I grinned envisioning what his blood tasted like. His smile made me want to put his face through the wall. But he knew his craft well. After a few distractions the thief had acquired the keys. The key to My freedom. He giggled to himself and retracted back to the corner.
His voice reminds me of sheep being slaughtered.
“How long are you in for?” His mood now lightened with pride from his success.
“I’m awaiting my method of execution.” I calmly replied. The voices were rising. I could feel my heartbeat quickening, and the sweat begin to flow. “Murder, murder, murder…” I wanted it…I needed it…I am Murder! My head was pounding, I clenched my jaw. Not yet, not yet…
“I was born in Vesper, boy, my parents were slaughtered. I grew up alone,” always alone only accompanied by the headaches, “If I wanted something, I would take it, if I needed something, it was already mine, I just hadn’t acquired it yet.”
“Ah, so you see!” he replied jovially, “We are not so different after all!”
Oh we’re different. My thoughts raced. You live off greed, scum, waste of flesh, murderers are my only true companions, those who know the taste of blood, those who yearn for the sigh. Ah that sigh… the final exhalation as the corpse falls limp, that gratifying sigh, that calming sigh, that sigh of relief…
“Hey mate! We can be good friends, you and me, and a great team! You be the muscle, and I’ll be the brains!” He said, as he moved closer to me, too close. I could smell his stench. He’ll be the brains…brain. The voices pounded, “Murder, murder, murder…”
The guard had fallen asleep. How fortunate. Not yet, I thought, still too soon. “Murder, murder, murder…” The headaches grew worse by the moment, coupled with this slaughtered lamb next to me, the sweat was now pouring down my face. I could feel my teeth chip as I ground them harder, and finally it was time. I stood up in an instant, the lamb still baaing at me. I grabbed his head in that oh so familiar way, one hand on the back of the head, one over the front jaw, and twist. I took my hand away and felt his last breath as his bloodshot, lifeless, eyes gazed up and through me, paralyzed with the fear of his last moment, and the headache stopped. I grabbed the keys and let myself out. A full meal in his belly, the guard was not roused from his sleep. I grabbed his warhammer. I let the metal of the hammer drag along the floor as I pulled it to arms length standing in front of the guard. He woke with a fright, only to see the flash of my grin as I brought the hammer down. He crumpled. I like how they crumple. The same way a child cringes in fear of a wolf.
I am the wolf, guard, and you are the child.
I used his blood to write a message to all who would read it…
“I am, but one, of the Murderers Incorporated. We have come to this land and we claim it as our own. Do not fear death, we deliver you into the open arms of death, and you are released from the agony of living. Wherever we go, we bring death, and we will come to you all. Life is merely a step on the path towards death, embrace death, your entire life has been leading to this exact moment.”
And I walked out…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So you see, it is all we know, all we do, how we live.”
“Yes, I do see…”
“Is this the life you choose?”
“Cebrious, I did not choose this life, I was born for this life.”
“Welcome to Murderers Incorporated, brother.”
