The man did himself no favors by offering insults.
My thoughts and emotions were not enough
To force me to strike the man
As my mind was still defending itself.
Amon knew of my dilemma.
Her next act would seal the fate of the man.
She offered the counselor her dagger.
He gladly accepted it.
She told him that I sold his belongings on the street.
He became enraged and held his weapon up to me.
He said that he would finish the beating.
He approached me with such arrogance
As if his wealth would save him down here beneath the city.
His once great stature in the ranks of society did not matter anymore.
My peasant characteristics were washed away.
We were equals for the first time in our different lives, but
He did not see that and held tightly to his upper class rank.
He believed that was enough for him to overpower me.
His confidence was so great that he saw me as no threat at all.
In his mind, no peasant would dare strike a man of his class.
In my mind, I had already killed him twice.
He continued to get closer to me
With no caution or predetermined defense.
I threw both of my daggers and
Buried them deep within his upper thighs.
The pain dropped him to his knees.
The shock of my attack widened his eyes.
I could see that he was still holding
Onto his personal power and rank over me.
I wanted to steal that from him.
I wanted him to know that I would in fact be the thief
That he thought I was, but instead
Of his riches, I would be robbing him of his life.
As I neared him, he swung his dagger in a weak attempt.
I grabbed his wrist and twisted it until it broke.
He released his weapon into my hand.
I felt his pain, however, it did not meet the torment
That I had received from the guards so I sliced his face.
Blood poured over his rich cloth robe.
Amon just stood aside me and watched.
The man’s posture was changing now.
His power was draining as the pain was overshadowing his ego.
He began to cling to me and beg for mercy.
I required that feeling of helplessness from him.
It empowered me to know that we had switched ranks.
We may not have been equals in the eyes of society, but
There underneath the city in that cold room, we were the same.
I leaned down to look into the eyes of my enemy.
I needed to know that what he felt was real.
Did he truly believe that I was his equal?
I said nothing as I looked to him.
I saw his eyes twitch as he began to exit his frightened state.
His begging and pleading was replaced with words of damnation and resentment.
He mumbled about how the guards would destroy my kind,
That they would not rest until every peasant in the city
Was killed and placed on display for all to see.
As I slid my dagger across his throat, I never looked away.
I wanted to follow him into the aftermath; torture him there as well.
For now, I settled on being the last vision that he would see.
He reached up to grasp his throat to hold the wound.
Blood poured through his fingers like a broken vat.
As he slipped into the trench of death,
His bloody hands grabbed my cloak.
I pushed him aside.
I did not want to provide him any such comfort.
The gurgling sound from his injury came to a halt.
There were no words to describe
My immediate sensation at that moment,
But Amon pushed me for a response.
She was always infatuated with my thoughts and emotions.
I told her that for the first time in my life I felt powerful
And what I imagined God experienced.
She immediately smiled at my last comment and
Walked over to corpse to retrieve the two daggers.
She cleansed the weapons on the man’s robe
And handed them to me one at a time claiming
That one represented vengeance; the other embodied judgment.
She added that along with these two relics
I would bring wrath to those who had oppressed us.
The adrenaline from my recent kill was intense.
I instantly accepted her task without much thought.
The next day seemed quite difficult and long in duration
As I awaited nightfall.
However, I was able to acquire my next victims
By merely walking down the street
And observing how others viewed me.
Any such gesture of disgust or condemnation
About my level in society provided me with what I required.
The inability to act on my impulses during the daylight hours
Only fed into my anxiousness for the sun to set.
As people passed and shoved me out of the way,
I gripped my daggers tightly underneath my cloak.
I was becoming a monster
And murdered everyone who touched me within my mind.
The visions comforted me as the day continued.
They allowed me to kill in much more creative ways.
Of course, the ability to tear one’s head off
With my bare hands was unlikely to happen,
But the idea was still satisfying.
While other peasants returned
To their daily rituals of begging from the wealthy,
I was busy studying their routines and personalities.
One such man noticed me observing him and walked over to me.
I visually deciphered him and gained
That he was agitated and slightly aggressive in his posture.
I remained still in my stance as he approached.
He was almost across the street
When I slipped into a nearby corridor to conceal myself.
He stopped on the threshold of the light.
If he proceeded into the darkness, he would die.
Instead he stayed within the light trying to peer down the corridor.
I saw his hesitation and weakness
Even though on the outside he presented a toughened persona.
If he was truly a strong willed individual,
He would have easily crossed over into the dark.
Instead he stayed within his safe haven of the light,
Even shoved other peasants as they walked by him.
I allowed him to live as daylight was not my time.
If I came across him during the night,
The outcome would be different.
I grew weary of wandering the streets and
Walked back to the underground asylum.
Amon welcomed me and claimed she had something for me.
I followed her again into the hidden circular room.
I was greeted by the sight of a man who was chained to the wall.
He was beaten severely as evident from his bruises.
Apparently Amon had been busy while I was gone.
I did not question her nor the reasoning.
Upon further examination,
The man was the aggressive person I had just encountered.
How she captured and tortured him in the small amount of time
I could not understand.
I had no time to question her
As the rage that I experienced within the corridor
Fumed within me once again.
My eyes felt as if they were dripping with boiling water.
I
moved toward him as he dangled from the chains.
Amon stated that he was a gift for me,
That she had prepared him to my liking, which was near death.
She knew my hunger; she knew my anger.
I slid my dagger of judgment across his bare chest
Prompting him to awake.
The fresh blood flowed freely
Down his skin and beautifully combined
With the previous open wounds.
His eyes swelled up with tears as he looked upon me.
He was no longer the strong person
That he portrayed just moments ago.
He was no longer the untouchable citizen of society
That the peasants perceived him as.
Within such a short time, he had been reduced to nothing.
He pleaded with me as his true personality showed itself.
We all beg, for different reasons.
The poor beg to avoid starvation.
The wealthy beg to avoid death.
His rambling for mercy annoyed me, so
I grabbed his tongue and released it from his mouth.
Amon smirked as even she did not expect that.
I was maturing with every encounter of death.
I stabbed my dagger of vengeance deep into his chest
So much that I felt the blade connect with the stone wall.
I pulled his body close as he exhaled for the last time.
I took a deep breath in hopes
That I would swallow his soul as it leaked from his body.
I was not content with the act of death;
I wanted to control him for eternity.
Amon gestured in approval with a sway of her head
And reminded me that the sun was about to set.
The appetizer she had provided me
Was what I needed to control my hunger
As I awaited the main course.
While the sun descended, I emerged from the underground
With pure vengeance flowing through my veins.
My hatred had full control over my actions;
It overshadowed any morals that I had remaining.
Remorse was not my strong suit now.
It had all but withered away.
The uncontrollable beast that lived within me
For so long was set free by Amon who had broken the cage.
I not only killed to fulfill my desires,
I also killed to receive the seductive approval of Amon.
She had taught me well.
She had taught me how to control my anger,
To focus my intentions on my prey.
She taught me to never become unfocused
When tempted by the words of men who were near death.
She taught me that many yearn to be closer to God,
That they would never be as close as I was.
I alone controlled the fates of those in my path.
I alone crushed the destinies of anyone that met my criteria.
I walked the streets with confidence and no fear
As I passed by my fellow peasants.
I could not recall feeling so helpless or deprived of my freedom.
It seemed so long ago that I was in their position
Desperately searching for remorse from.
I stared into the eyes of everyone that passed me.
I waited for any excuse to drain their lives.
My hood provided shadows over my face,
And only enhanced my vision
As I was able to see all of their personalities.
I waited patiently.
I knew that the corrupted society would offer me my prey.
And there it was in the sign of a man
Brutally beating a peasant to the ground.
I moved toward the man as he prepared to strike again.
With my full momentum, I shoved him into an adjacent inlet.
My cloak shielded us from the streets
As people walked by at a close distance.
I spared no time in unleashing my daggers
Allowing them to penetrate the outer shell of his body.
I quickly removed my blades
As I believed he was not worth the amount of time
That they dwelled within him.
I walked out of the inlet as quickly as I had gone in.
I felt nothing; I had no thought within my head.
I was a mindless killer, something the city had never seen before.
I did not remain around long
To see death reap him of his life.
Witnessing the reactions of people
As they stumbled across the dead was not something I cared for.
The shock emotions and fake sadness was pathetic in my mind.
I knew behind the entire act most people were just relieved
That it was someone else instead of them.
As I walked further away on my journey of death,
I heard his screams for help.
No one ever stopped to help the living,
Why do they stop to help the dead?
There was nothing they could do for him,
They would rush by those in hunger
To come to the aide of someone who was beyond help.
Society was damaged in that aspect.
There was one thing constant with my offering.
Regardless of how powerful they were,
They would all die alone and take no power or money with them.
It was a simple fact that I alone did not create.
If so, then why would people waste their lives
Trying to acquire more when they take nothing in the end?
The answer, they would feel empowered over others,
Increased their standing in societal ranks.
To me, their rank meant nothing.
The ability to reduce their status by a mere infliction of death
Was the lifeblood of my way.
I did not seek instant death for my prey,
Which would not be justified as a learning experience for them.
As much as possible, I wanted to provide them time to reflect
On their actions; how they handled themselves within society.
I heard the cries of another nearby servant.
I crept in the room with death closely behind me.
I peered around the corner
To witness a man striking his servant with his bare hand.
The reasoning for the violence did not matter to me.
No one should be punished in that manner.
Before he could strike again,
I reached for him from behind and
Forcefully pushed him towards the wall.
My momentum slammed his face into a self-portrait painting.
His face smeared against his own as I pinned him motionless.
The man became terrified at my sudden entrance,
But soon demanded to know who I was.
His strong personality overwhelmed his fear
As he stated that I had made a mistake that would cost me dearly.
The servant remained on his knees,
Trying desperately to understand the situation.
He could not see my face, but I could see his
From underneath my hood.
I observed both fear and relief on his face from
Seeing his master helpless and subdued.
The man spewed useless words
Regarding his popularity and status;
He was saying those to the wrong person.
Not once did he enter into a plea of sorrow or remorse.
With rarity, I offered my victim a question.
I asked him why he beat his servant.
He responded that his servant was his property,
That he owned him; that he could do as he saw fit.
He was telling the truth;
He did not view his servant as a human, rather a commodity.
&
nbsp; Even when faced with violence, he held onto the idea that
He was entitled to discipline his property without regard.
I looked to the servant as his eyes swelled.
I could tell he had nothing left,
The years of punishment had broken his spirit and self-worth.
I wanted the master to see his servant in true reality form,
Not as a slave, but as a human being.
I turned my prey around to allow him to
Observe his servant mentally destroyed on the ground.
I stared into his eyes for any sign of pity, but found none.
He was truly a beast who victimized the weak.
I extracted my dagger of judgment and held it close to his face.
Reality finally showed itself to him
While I touched the cold unforgiving blade against his cheek.
The action allowed for his power to be reduced
And replaced with fear about his salvation.
He only showed remorse when faced with his own death.
A true person should fear death for others as well as for themselves.
His chin extended upwards to avoid the contact,
But he could only rise up so high.
I applied enough pressure to slightly open a small wound,
Forced tears rolled down his face.
I looked to the servant who had sobered up from his sadness
As he witnessed the tears of his master.
That was a personality trait that hardly anyone saw from their owner,
I wanted to offer it to him in hopes that he would regain
His internal power and ego.
I unveiled my second dagger of vengeance
And inserted it up into his chin so deep
That I believe I saw the blade within his eyes.
His screams were loud and deafening, but soon silenced
By my other blade slicing through his throat.
When no longer supported by the metal,
The master along with his painting
Fell to the ground in a symbolic fashion as if I killed him twice.
I did not expect any signs of appreciation from the servant.
The vision of seeing someone murdered
The Sinner Page 3
