Chapter 6.1 Sense of Retribution

Her short life...

"Slowly my life was forming... "

I could feel the life force in me. Once again I would awaken, my existence of no meaning and without end for I merely disappear for a short span. 

I then hear voices of my creators slowly dying by the hand of a wretched being. Perhaps she too is like me of without end, but merely a beginning and not that one would wish. She seemed bound by a contract but it looks the other way around. 

I felt the shivering coldness of existence weighing down on me. The anguish of seeing my creators vanish was unbearable. Every part of my body screamed in fiery pain as if the blood that swirled around every crevice of my body rebutted what was happening. I had been made with the blood of the sacrifices by the very people who were dying in front of me. Perhaps they were not rebutting but screaming in excitement as if the very hand of justice they had never seen in life suddenly appeared before them and in a swift motion. The longing for justice they knew would never be fulfilled was here. I, on the other hand, laughed at the irony of it all. Divine retribution in a land without God, how pitiful the excitement of these sacrifices are when in fact, they themselves had received the divine hand of God in their death. And what more than this very devil granting them their wish. 

 I myself could not judge for I was born under these circumstances. I had the knowledge of lives before mine and had instinctively fired a canon of thunder at the murders of my creators. I was not driven with anger but that of pain. My body ached as I watched the creators die and I could not bear the pain any longer. I needed it to stop, I had been given life not to feel pain after all. This natural action would then be interpreted as an act of opposition and they had taken up their stance.

A frenzy awakened inside me as the blood that boiled with excitement had then lusted for battle like that of a dog driven to frenzy upon seeing its pups lay bloodied beneath her. My mind closed and when I had finally opened them, I was lying in my own blood. My hair drenched wet with pristine crimson, swaying along the puddle as I gasped for breath from extreme exhaustion. I could no longer raise my arms, not even the fingers as all they could do was feel the red hot blood that embraced me from behind. I was to be given retribution by the very people that judged my creators. The sadness of it all was that this would only be a temporary end. I had laughed at the very blood that had been freed from me. The blood who longed for revenge, the blood that longed for divine retribution. Perhaps I too, am like them. Longing for the divine retribution to end this cycle of birth and death, of life without existence for I am only living, but dead.  

 

Author's Note

If you like the story give me a heads up so I can continue :) suggestions are very much welcome!