Retribution Hill
by This is one of my lesser works I’d imagine. It’s again on the theme of wondering what it would be like to lose someone, and how I’d act. And the last part, I just couldn’t paragraph at all. It was such a solid flow of consciousness and constant action, that I couldn’t discern where to put the gaps, so I hope you’ll forgive the fact that I left it as is.
The sentry sees the fire reflect on the naked blade in my hand, half a shout leaves his throat, before his head leaves it also. The camp erupted into action as men poured from tents with blades. I don’t see any of them, my eyes are set on the tent that I know he will leave any second. Finally he leaves, and I feel the need to heft my blade. Now with intent, my sword begins to swing, felling men like trees.
I begin to knock blades away and maim or kill all of those around me, without looking, without caring. All that I care about is my slow steps towards his murderer, and his subsequential death. My face is stretched back in a obscene parody of a smile. It isn’t a smile, it’s a death-mask. My feet pull me slowly towards him, it’s no longer is a matter of skill, but of time.
A dozen wounds bleed and cover my clothes with crimson pain, but I ignore them. I merely concentrate on moving towards my destiny. His eyes are wide with fear as he realises that I have come for him. His face hardens into determination as he swings his blades to stop the chaos caused by me. I laugh. We both know the outcome of this confrontation. His face is set in acceptance, yet he still fights for his life. Respect for him is a mere flash before my hatred.
I knock his blade clean out of his hand, before sheathing my sword in his chest. Removing the blade again, I bring it to my own throat. I have finished what I came for, and now I have no further use in this world. I have no longer a reason to live. I end my life right there. I used all my strength to swing the sword. So much so that the sword continued on, to bury itself haft deep in a tree.
Years pass by, and the clearing is still known as Retribution Hill. None set foot there if they can avoid it and all know the story of one mans loss and retribution. The sword is still lodged in the tree to this day. Unremovable by any hand. Proof, if need be, that, although revenge may be sweet, it can’t remove the problem, or even help it.
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