My King

Chapter 2 - Beware the beast below.

Chapter 2 - Beware the beast below.

Marcys Savage

Locked inside a metal box for about five hundred years have fucked with my very sane mind. Stone walls was all it took, to drive the monster to madness. The thought of departing from this insanity waiting to happen, makes my mouth salivate in greed and hunger. The taste of freedom and blood is all I long for these days.

The clock ticking, along with my sanity.

Seeing the delicate fear in a man's eyes, when he knows I'll be his death, is another thing I deeply long for.

Their voices are hushed, and swinging in volume, but I hear them perfectly. Like a song lyric being whispered in the darkness, forged like a map. They're talking about me, and my sins, as they refer to them as. I call them habits. We all have bad habits, and getting locked in this madness, is not what others face, when inhabited a bad habit.

So why do I? My hands are smeared with blood. 

I know it, and they know it. It's my bad habit. Send me to rehab, send me to the insanity ward, anything but this. My blood is cold and dusty from being restrained, and my muscles clench and twist beneath my skin, wanting to feel the familiar burn and break, as I let my true nature burst from within me.

I'm an animal by blood, name and heart.

I kill for the fun of it, or because I can, who really knows the reason behind careless killing. I believe, that as a careless killer, I should know, and being deeply connected with my monster would grant me that knowledge, but with that, I'm shit out of luck. My bad habits were always just there, ever since I committed my first mass murder. Blood and killing intent deeply imbedded within my mind, and I had no other choice than to succumb to the demand – Willing or not.

I know my habits are painted as sins, and if anyone deserves to be rotting down in this stone box, it's me. I know my sins, and I don't seek redemption. I just seek the peace I once felt, that has since then been nothing but a distant memory, a vision from the past. A constant reminder of what I had, and what I lost. The world really is a cruel place.

Living in solitude, has made me wiser somehow. I ponder over things, I never would have spared a thought before. Am I just bored or getting older. Another thing to ponder over – Another thing to use my time on. My time was precious once upon a time.

What a joke, I've become.

I lived my life, not caring about the norms, we are expected to follow, and in that wisdom, I know deep down, I've lived a life worth living. I've been ready for my doom longer than I can remember, and now it's here to knock on my stone walls. My imprisonment has served its justice, and I'm more than ready to welcome the beating pain of my heart stopping its pounding inside my chest. This world was never meant for me anyway. I belong in a time that has passed, long before my birth.

Monsters aren't born, they are made - I've heard that sentence being voiced aloud, and heard it as an echo inside my head, reminding me I am more than what the world sees. I wasn't born this way. My birth was regular, but my destiny was already painted on the stones. I didn't have a say in anything regarding myself, and it left a hollowing feeling behind. I have spent centuries counting those steps, trying to find a way around my destiny, but you can't change something that's already been foreseen.

My mind and memory are hazy, and I've tried regaining bits and pieces. I remember smaller things, some would say important moments that show my biggest failures. I remember what I wish to bury the most.

I remember how I got here. It started out as a regular morning. I could faintly hear the birds waking from their slumber, at the same time as the sun made an entrance upon the cloudy sky. I was barely awake, and some things wasn't revealed to me just yet. My eyelids felt heavy, as my eyes moved beneath the dark curtains, condemning the light.