Harrington's Journal

Chapter 24: July 23rd - This Is My Curse

July 23rd

When things go so well, soon falls apart in a second. I am but a slave yet again; a slave for these damned creatures that we are not supposed to know about.

Several hours later, I woke up to the warm sunlight on my face. Oh how I missed the sunlight so much. After the death of Marok, I felt normal. I went down to the ground floor to retrieve Marok's body. I tugged him inside and threw him onto a lounge chair in the living room. The curtains were kept closed. He looked like he was asleep, and I walked out silently, trying not to disturb him in his quiet state. My body was covered in wounds, thus I waited in the manor for them to heal. It was a painful process but I am getting through it, gradually. The power is being used up to heal these wounds, and they will no longer be present once I am fully healed. I do not know when it will return, neither does she.

I thought that everything would end and that everything would be quiet, but I am still vexed by the voice in my head. It never left me. I am enslaved to the witch who is living within me. Thus, wherever I go, she follows. I thought that I could ignore her. However, she yearns to come out and take over me, but I said, "NO!"

I resisted but I was then punished by her fearsome screams and nightmares. How she happened to be in my head was not hard to guess. I am sure it was the serpent; the serpent that had slithered down my throat and into my belly. For a while it slept, for a while it did nothing. The snake was the witch herself. Once in, she was spreading throughout my body like a disease. At first, I thought that I was going mad, going insane from these visions and voices in my head. It was the witch playing tricks on me, and I felt as if every bone in my body was ready to succumb to the iniquity of madness. My body is living off with these dangerous urges, urges to destroy everything. My hands would clench whenever I get these urges and my mouth would naturally curl up, smiling.

That moment when I faced against my tormentor, Marok, made me crave for more. It was amazing to watch him, to hear him scream. It was fulfilling. I wanted to explore the deepest and darkest part of myself and see what else I can accomplish with the power I hold. Such dangerous power will consume me as Marok had said. It is too much to ask, but I want to. I want it. I did spoke to her a few times. I do not think we could ever get along, but she tried her best to understand me. I know I should not touch it; this power. 

The more I tried to push her away, the more she tried to push back. I have seen her too, in the mirrors. She watches me with glowing yellow eyes. I am not going mad. If I were to be, then will I be able to write as calmly as I am right now? No, I am not mad. Still, she tried to reach out to me and I heard her whispering in my ear as if she was right there. When I turned, she was not; there was nothing but a shadow lingering over me. I yelled and screamed and cried for her to leave me be. The witch wants me to do things that I did not want to do. She is haunting me. She will not stop until I give in completely and become her puppet. Should I give in?

I went to Marok to seek comfort, to ask him to help me. He sat there, looking at me with a pitiful expression and remained silent. I asked him, "What should I do?" Again, he did not respond. He will not help anymore. He helped me and I had never repaid him. I begged him to speak. I stared up at him and told him how much I wanted to forget everything. If I did not come and if I stayed away from my fantasies, then this would not happen. I would live normally. I said that I was sorry. I am truly sorry for what I had done. It was never my intention. Or was it? I don't know! I don't know anymore! I feel sick just thinking about it. No, I did wrong! I am a murderer! I am a monster! I am no different than they are!

I never wanted to become like this. I never wished for this to happen. I should have died. Marok was supposed to kill me. He was supposed to end my misery.

I am cursed. She is my curse! I feel her standing right next to me as I am writing right now. Her hands are making their way down my neck and up my hands. I cannot take it, its, its making me...I feel so...cold. So cold. Colder than the air itself. Her breath is no longer warm. I wanted to feel the warmth again, and the sunlight does not even help. It was too bright and I had to hide away from it. When I closed my eyes, I could see their dead faces from hell! The witch was there too. I feel her slipping back into my head. Oh I'm smiling again. I can't stop my...god. I do not know how long I can keep this up. I am exhausted, I have not been able to sleep well. Damn it. Just...what is wrong with me? 

I am supposed to show them shouldn't I? This is what I was supposed do. Have I forgotten the reason why I came here? Of course not! Perhaps if I bring his body and show them that there are beasts out there, I would be accepted, I would be free from my suffering.

Pathetic really. To be caught up in all of this mess and be dreadful about it. Why must I be dreadful? I should be happy. This journey has not been so meaningless. This is what I wanted, right from the very beginning. With all of my efforts to see their world, I can now watch as their faces turn from right to wrong. They shall see who is right for once and that I am not mad. They shall know that I was not lying! Would a madman be able to accomplish something as big as this? Better yet, have actually killed beasts? Yes, let them, let them see it! Let them hear my tale!

I have been able to enter into their world. Thus, I have triumphed!

Both you and I have succeeded!

Harrington. H