Day 2: Q - Delivered
I could smell her…
That foul stench of rot and decay. That potent and familiar smell of the undead was one I would never remove from my senses, no matter how strong the tonics. The entire stretch of the hallway was bathed in that horrid odor and yet, I still found myself creeping closer and closer to my goal. Each step echoed softly along the slime soaked walls, my hands trailed along to keep my balance firm and my bearings locked. The darkness would swallow one in an instant, fortunately for me, my heritage gave me the gifts to be able to pierce the darkness somewhat and traverse it without the need for torch or flint. I knew I grew closer, every step down the wretched hallway underneath this castle, to my one goal. Vaal’Una, the Witch, would die tonight.
That horrible, horrible smell…
That festering notion in my mind kept my pace slow to a crawl, however. “What if she has yet to change fully,” I asked myself aloud against my better judgement. No, I thought better, she is gone from me, too far gone to be saved and all must end now. I gripped the parchment in my hand, turning my knuckles white with fear and rage, hoping for the end to be quick and knowing it would be far from my hopes and expectations.
The smell lingers in my nostrils, my clothes…everything.
The corridor narrows. The door is to my right, around the bend. I slowly traverse the corner and peer around to see if my stealth has kept me from detection. The door is closed but the dancing candle light along its bottom seam tells me she is awake, not up and about, but awake. She sings the song that carries a horrible, magical weight behind every word. I barely listen to its suggestion and pull my pistol, checking my last four silver bullets in its chamber of six. Now is the time, Witch. Now I avenge my wife, my daughter, my home.
The smell is nauseating but I must press on… I must...For them!
Those blackened eyes...her eyes.
That foul stench of rot and decay. That potent and familiar smell of the undead was one I would never remove from my senses, no matter how strong the tonics. The entire stretch of the hallway was bathed in that horrid odor and yet, I still found myself creeping closer and closer to my goal. Each step echoed softly along the slime soaked walls, my hands trailed along to keep my balance firm and my bearings locked. The darkness would swallow one in an instant, fortunately for me, my heritage gave me the gifts to be able to pierce the darkness somewhat and traverse it without the need for torch or flint. I knew I grew closer, every step down the wretched hallway underneath this castle, to my one goal. Vaal’Una, the Witch, would die tonight.
That horrible, horrible smell…
That festering notion in my mind kept my pace slow to a crawl, however. “What if she has yet to change fully,” I asked myself aloud against my better judgement. No, I thought better, she is gone from me, too far gone to be saved and all must end now. I gripped the parchment in my hand, turning my knuckles white with fear and rage, hoping for the end to be quick and knowing it would be far from my hopes and expectations.
The smell lingers in my nostrils, my clothes…everything.
The corridor narrows. The door is to my right, around the bend. I slowly traverse the corner and peer around to see if my stealth has kept me from detection. The door is closed but the dancing candle light along its bottom seam tells me she is awake, not up and about, but awake. She sings the song that carries a horrible, magical weight behind every word. I barely listen to its suggestion and pull my pistol, checking my last four silver bullets in its chamber of six. Now is the time, Witch. Now I avenge my wife, my daughter, my home.
The smell is nauseating but I must press on… I must...For them!
I pull the latch on the door, the slow click and turn grants me my revenge. She slowly turns as I raise the pistol to take aim at the beautiful, terrible wretch that has plagued my home and life ever since I read the cursed letter.
“You know, this changes nothing, foolish man. I will come for you,” she purrs slowly, while turning to face me. “Then crawl the nine hells to find me, Witch,” I yell through her soft chanting.
Those blackened eyes...her eyes.
I pull the trigger. I watch my vengeance take full form, then our battle ensues.
It has been many centuries now and I feel myself being drawn to another part of our large world. I carry that pistol with three shots remaining and that parchment ripped and rolled into each empty shell I have expended living this endless life. Once, I found a message in a bottle, and at the cost of everyone I hold dear, I have been delivering its message ever since.
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Prompt: "Once I found a message in a bottle."
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