For Him.

Devin Abnus Merle

- Cold and damp. Memories flashing back every night, as they always did. Unable to handle it. Unable to understand it. Unable to believe it. It couldn't have been me. It wasn't me. It wasn't me! Why don't they believe me?

~It is immensely cold outside. Frost on the soulless, withered leaves. My feet crunch on the lifeless needles and fronds at a somber pace. My expression pale and grim. Hood over my head, dark, bare, grey cloak encompassing my body in darkness. The woods completely silent, as if all life was deceased. As I make my way down, a fox scurries among the trees. As if trying to flee, almost as if he doesn't belong.

Why am I here?

I stop at the base of a vast tree, hollowed out by lightning strikes. I hear ragged, terrified, accelerated breathing. My breath steady as a pin. I'm not alone. It echoes within the tree. Who or what is it?

Why am I here?

I knock on the wood three times, all spaced out evenly.

"No! I'm not ready..." It whispers agonizingly.

Confused, I start moving forward, towards the entrance of the tree. I stand there being imbibed by the shadow of the darkness, the brim of light just barely misses my heels, leaving me completely in the darkness. The caved hole is truly charred to a crisp, humid and damp. It must have rained the previous night. Not only that, it reeks of bodily fluids and waste.

My eyes have become somewhat adjusted to the dark by now.

"No. No! NO! Please... No..."  They say hysterically. As I get closer I could see that it is a man. He seems so tired, so scared. No, not scared. Terrified. Mortified. How long has he been here? I, myself, become intimidated by the figure that lurks in the dark. I can make out his body composure a bit more well now.

He scurries away from me. I can see that he has rugged clothing and no foot wear. I can see that he has cuts and bruises all over his body, some starting to show signs of infection. He seems awfully thin, his ribs protruding through the shirt. It clings to him very wetly, presumably from the week's rainfall and to his sweat. He stinks of body odor, urine, and fecal matter. There is another sent to him, as well. Something bitter and foul, possibly his own vomit. How malnourished is this man?  He obviously is in no condition to be up and about. Why does he seem so horrid. Why hasn't he fled yet?

In a frantic attempt, he speaks rapidly, "Please, if you let me go I won't tell anyone. Just let me go. This never happened. I promise I won't tell the cops. Please, just. Just..."

At that moment I realize he is chained. He looks up at me. All hope has faded away from his being. He just seems desperate and tired. Just wanting to go, whether it meant dying or just being released from his chains. Nothing from his composure says that he had any chance of fleeing.

It saddens me and scares me to see him so petrified. But then everything just leaves my senses. I have no remorse. No mercy for this man, whatsoever. I just stand there a few moments more, looking at him directly at his eyes. Through them actually, but there was nothing to see. They are dead, completely empty of faith and hope.

He drops to his knees as he sees me smirk, looking straight at him, knowing that his fate was close and this is it. Just as if on cue, the wind whips through the hollow tree, vigorously lashing my hair and cloak to and fro. And just as swift and as fast as a flame being blown out from a candle, my right arm goes to my left hip removing a scythe, and my left arm moves towards my upper back angling slightly towards the right pulling a long, slim, tungsten sword. As I pull both of the weapons out at the same time, I bring them quickly in front of me, weapons crossing over each other in an 'x' form. A quick slit sound, a gurgle, then a thud.

I just stand there. Hands to my sides with weapons still in them, dripping in his blood. He lies there, face down, ever so still. Blood starting to drain from his corpse at a quick and steady rate. I place both of the weapons back in their designated spots. I then pull out a quill, out from my satchel. I remove the glass bulb from, admiring its winter blue, intricate curves. I squat down to the side of his head. I pull his hair back, bringing his head up towards me. I bring the quill down to where I slit his throat, letting the blood drip, filling it to the top. I place the top back on the quill. Everything is so quiet, so still. I turn around to leave the hollowed tree, leaving his body to decay in the dark, lifeless, cave to his own devices. As I step out of the opening, I turn around to face the outside of the tree. I walk up to its surface, my body merely centimeters away from it. I raise the quill to the bark of the tree, approximately head height. I begin to write.

"Ad Eum, nos quoque si ambulaveris coram se iniuste" I -

Latin

Heavy pounding interferes with the visions I have. Someone is at my cell door. What do they want now? Don't they know that I didn't do it, any of this? She walks in. Nothing more than just a nurse.

"Come on. Get off the floor, it's time for your meds." She spoke in that emotionless monotone voice of hers that she always had.

I looked at her, staring with hatred, "I don't want them. I don't need them."

"Devin, come on, let's go. I don't want to have to deal with this everyday. I sure as hell don't want to get the guards involved again. Let's go."

         "Jesus Janice, gained a few pounds lately? " Of course I said snarkily.

"Up. Now."  Through gritting teeth, she said.               

She wasn't having any of my s**t. I get up and take them that way she can leave sooner. I compliantly open my mouth for her, back down the water and the tablet, open wide and swirl my tongue so that she can see it's gone.

"Thanks for your service, c**t muffin" I mumble as she leaves.

Author's Note

What do you guys think so far? Have been stumped on what to write next, but hopefully will be able to think of something within the next few weeks...