《The ravings of a lunatic》chapter sixteen - the damned
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Chapter sixteen
I went into the the arena to raucous cheers but the cheers were obviously not meant for me. Across the arena was a muscular dark elf with two identical scimitars strapped to his side, both with shiny blades glinting in the dim sunlight and intricate hilts with pommels adorned with jewels the size of a chicken's egg.
The elf himself was wearing scale male armor that was pitch black like the darkest of winter nights when even the stars are not visible. It looked sturdy yet it also looked like something you could move around in easily.
Well at least that's how it looked from behind, that was all I could see because the cocky bastard wasn't even looking in my direction as I came out into the arena, he was too busy waving at the crowd and basking in the attention he was getting. He looked like a triumphant victor who had already won instead of someone who was just about to start a battle.
I knew his type, he was probably a skilled fighter but he had gotten swept up in all the fame and glory that his skill has brought him. He was no warrior, at least not anymore. He was now nothing more than a petty entertainer, doing tricks to entertain the crowd. He probably was good enough that he wins all his fights easily which made him forget a very important fact, there is always someone out there better than you, a fact I would be happy to remind him.
The glory hound finally turned towards me and smirked at me. He was completely confident that he was going to win and his expression made it clear that he had no respect for me as an opponent. As soon as the signal to start the fight was given he suddenly disappeared leaving behind nothing but a long furrow in the sand , at the same time I suddenly felt excruciating pain in my neck as the cold steel of his scimitar bit into my spine.
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My vision started to rotate as my head went spinning off my body when he decapitated me. The bastard then picked up my head by my long blond hair and raised me up like a trophy to the happy cheers of the crowd. He was so busy celebrating his victory that he didn't even notice the crowd suddenly going quiet, he didn't notice that the head he was holding up wasn't really dead, he didn't even notice that the 'dead' body behind him was slowly getting up.
He didn't notice anything until he felt a sword go straight through his back and into his heart. He was still holding me up so that I could see the shocked expression on his face as he stared at the sword sticking out of his chest. I saw the realization that he had died slowly creep upon him as he lightly touched the sword coated with his blood as if to check if it was real. Finally his knees buckled and he fell face first onto the ground, dead.
Meanwhile I had been concentrating very hard on trying to control my body. The hardest part was moving with no vision or any sense of balance, thankfully this wasn't the first time I had been decapitated so I have grown accustomed to operating a headless body and mister showoff had been holding me up so I could see what my body was doing which made the whole thing much easier. After some fumbling I finally retrieved my decapitated head and jammed it onto my neck until the flesh knit back together and the bone reconnected.
After I was whole again I walked over to the dead body of the dark elf and stomped on his head until nothing was left but an unrecognizable red pulp. Then I cut off his feet and retrieved the shiny anklets he was wearing, these will come in quite handy in the future.
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I felt a sense of relief as well as sadness as I walked out of the arena. I have been decapitated or have been dealt otherwise 'fatal' injuries hundreds of times now but I have never died. A fire was lit in my soul when I drank the potion 'gifted' to me by the gods and as long as it burned I couldn't die even if I wanted to, even when I tried my hardest to destroy myself I just couldn't die. Once I had been cut into small pieces only to grow back my whole body just from one of the pieces which made one thing very clear, I am not going to die.
I am forever denied my rest, forever cursed to wander the nine realms bathed in blood and pain , both my own and my enemy's. I am no longer human, no I am now one of the undying.
I am one of the damned.
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From the Final World
I have lived a long, long time. Longer than the universe knows; longer than any star has seen or traveling light records. My memories; that is all that is left that knows that length, and that which was seen within it. Then again, that is all that ever did. When I am gone, it will be forgotten, a truth and a history lost forever no matter who or what tries to find it. I think that is why I write this now. A record, or a lament, of the most significant being of all time. It is a prideful exaltation of endless triumph, or the dread condemnation of infinite evil. I don’t know which; I shall leave it for others to judge. I could explain further, of course. I could list the sins that have been committed, the deeds that have been done. Yet for now, I believe this is enough. Her story will speak for itself. About the good, and evil, in the heart of a single girl burdened with more than her fair share. And how she reacted to it. So, I will tell her story. Of gods and devils, mortals and monsters, of legends long forgotten and civilizations long turned to dust. And in the end, I hope she knows herself, whether it is salvation, or destruction, she should receive.
8 175The Result of Greed
For two long years a demon has been traveling throughout the world and abducting people. Every single person it took could be considered greedy in one way to another, and no place on earth was spared of these strange disappearances.It was the world’s great mystery, up until some of them started to reappear with incredible powers and stories of another world. At that moment I decided to give this world a visit. The demon would be coming for me sooner or later anyways, after all I am rather greedy.
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