1 Blasphemer (Prologue)

I look around.

Eyes and spearheads gleam menacingly as they point solely at me.

I'm surrounded.

"Witch! Burn the witch!"

"Blasphemer! Murderer! Return my daughter to me! Bring her back!"

Coarse yells fill the atmosphere as I stand, lone and helpless.

I face the crowd. So much anger. So much hate. Irreconcilable.

I accept this. This is what I deserve. I've had a good run this time around.

Locked within the net of glares that wrap me like chains, I heave a long sigh, a sigh that carries all my feelings away, dissipating into the breeze.

My thoughts slow, my heart cools. I can't just pitifully die like this- I will not pitifully die like this, cornered like a rat. I shall face my end with dignity. Facing forward, chin up, my mind begins to rifle through its memories in search for something meaningful. Perhaps they could serve as inspiration as I produce my final words… although, it's not as if these people care.

I think about all that has happened. I think of the monster I have become, the sins I've committed.

My thoughts naturally gravitate towards the people I know, the people I could perhaps consider friends. I think of all the people I've hurt, and my heart aches in regret.

In my mind's eye, a familiar face stands out from the rest.

"… I'm sorry, my friend. I guess this is it. I want you to know from whatever afterlife you believe in… that I really did care for you. It's just that… I had no choice."

And with that, I grit my teeth and meet the inevitable.

The last thing I see is my own wretched face reflected in a pool of my own blood. I gaze into my own eyes as a stranger stares right back. Those are the eyes of a lunatic. Those are the eyes of the depraved. I laugh, for there is no other suitable reaction. I laugh at myself, at what I had become.

And I feel the comforting numbness of death envelop me once more. I hope, for everyone's sake, that this time is the last.