Your Shadow Is My Light

Chapter 17 - Touch your heart before saying Ahri will kill you!

Normal text
Thinking
Onomatopoeia

Rayne's POV
"Don't find them, okay?"

The pair of bewitching amber eyes lingered in my memories. They blinked cutely, as if the owner of such lustrous eyes was asking something incredibly reasonable... Except, it wasn't. It's as good as demanding for my life. Every gut-wrenching syllable cut my fragile heart. The horrible feeling of betrayal welled up again.

"Why?"

Beneath me, the cool silky duvet rustled. I stared absent-mindedly at Kamish's Wrath, eyes glued to the yellow description on the floating text box. Almost in a trance. Shockingly, the weapon fitted seamlessly in my petite palm. Not too awkward like a bow. Not too heavy like a sword. Just right. The irony.

Tilting the dagger, red moonlight diffusing through the tinted windows hit along its edges. An ominous purplish gleam entered my dull eyes. For some reason, I didn't feel god-awful at the slight graze of a knife. Could be the fact that my hands weren't physically tainted by gory blood... yet. Or maybe the gloves really worked wonders in regulating my temperament, preventing sorrow from spiralling to no man's land. Ahri had suggested wearing them to create a sense of distance. Sort of like an impenetrable fourth wall. I'm not the one who killed those unfortunate victims. It's the gloved hands that did it. It's this malicious society that forced me to play their cut-throat hunger games. So I shouldn't feel sorry. Or perhaps I just grew numb to the crippling guilt. And finally come to terms with the cold hard truth-a spineless creature can never achieve anything.

"It's not that I particularly adore those clowns. I don't want you to lose yourself for them. It's not worth it."

I remembered feeling miffed. Angry. But mostly hurt. Ahri wanted me to spare them??? After what they've done??? After they had tried to smother my mother's hope??? How could she be so cruel to me??? So I should just eat a knife for nothing?! Like a damn punching bag???!!! Is she going to be like Mom too-declaw me for her nominal husband??? WHY??? Why won't they side with me???

"Death is not the most painful experience. Neither is it always the most clear-cut solution to torment someone. And I think you know it too."

Evelynn's words made my resolve waver. Because she's right. Sometimes, dying is a form of mercy, a release. The easiest escape from a lifetime of suffering. There exists more inhumane, more ruthless methods to get someone to crack. A pitfall worse than hell. I would know. Because that's what my father inflicted on me and Mom for years. Decades of depression and fear. Perpetually living in a world of debilitating bruises... A nightmare I never wanted to revisit again. That strut's the one who showed me the many ingenious ways to abuse someone. And a thousand more psychotic ways to prevent prey from ever escaping one's clutches. For Mom, it was me. I was the shackle chaining her to that insufferable man-child. For those entitled brats... It's the idea of what COULD be theirs falling into the hands of a nobody.

"Let's not find those ugly freaks, okay?"

Fingers curled around the dagger's handle, pinching it in a death-grip. The brilliant shimmer of its flat reflected in my stormy pupils.

Maybe what Ahri and Evelynn said were true. My worldview was still laughably narrow. Ignorant to a fault. All the grudges to exterminate them were just foolish agony spat out in the heat of the moment. Now that I think about it, dismembering the dragon knight clearly won't make me any more heroic in front of anyone. Quite the opposite, actually. He's revered by imbeciles after all. The moment I touched a single hair of theirs, I'm no longer innocent in anyone's books. Only a tyrant. A murderer. There's no way I'm sinking my own ship for the likes of those donkeys.