Bred, born, and raised Ohklahomo

(july 13th, 2023)

[cw blood, dismemberment]

You covered their faces for her. At least that’s what you told yourself. To avoid the annoyance of her sniffling and the stain of tears on the child’s face. An attempt to stop the silent shaking when she should be sleeping. The wails that never left her, but you could see in her wrinkled brow and clenched jaw. It was for her, to keep her quiet as your half rotten group shuffled through the silent halls.

It wasn’t because you kept turning to the barbarian, a snarky quip on your tongue. Or the knight, a barbed word dancing in your throat. Only to find their husks staring blankly at you. They didn’t hear such things anymore. Commands were the only things that made them react. Made them move.

It wasn’t because in the deepest dark their eyes now milky, shone like silver pieces. Like the coins left with the dead for a passage you had stolen from them. Their now slack jawed expressions made your heart clench with something new and unforgivable.

It was all for the girl. For her comfort.

And you didn’t focus on your sudden need to keep her safe, to stop her tears. Or how it was all a distraction from the beast in your heart, chewing at your insides. Filling you with guilt.

The crow took your eyes. And while you writhed in pain, it took the Barbarian. At least he had made sure the damned beast died with him. The lady knight fell next, an infection of all things being her downfall. While you sat in darkness, the girl had cried, the only noise in the dungeons. It had been days since you last heard the thief, you assumed he had absconded as soon as the group had faltered.

In a strange twist of fate, you found yourself trusting the silent girl. Her small hand in yours the only thing tethering you to reality. She was your eyes in the demented dungeons. You knew not where she led you, not that it mattered. Escaping the dungeons was impossible, you had known that the moment you entered.

Your body ached from the fights you fumbled through, the Girl’s faint and stuttered words your only guidance. Despite the incredible disadvantage, you lay waste to your opponents, whatever they were. Still, it was never ending and you found yourself growing numb. In between rest you whispered spells to her, clumsily showing her what you knew, hoping it was enough for her when you were gone.

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