Anastasia "N" Hawkins.
Yeah, that's my name. If you think I am some kind of femboy, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I am not. Well, now that I've gotten that out of the way, let me tell you about my current situation in a little more detail.
Due to certain technical reasons, the body I am occupying right now is a boy named Vincent. The original soul of Vincent remains there, so I can't exactly gain complete control over the body. The best I can do is act as a split personality. To fully gain control over this body and be reborn to this world properly, Vin must die first, creating room for my soul.
I can't interact with the material world, nor other people other than Vin can see me, meaning I must feed on the emotional energy only he generates. Even several months of constant psychological torment generated far from a satisfactory amount of [SP].
"The brat is a rather resilient one, isn't he? I was half expecting him to off himself by now."
[Host, do you know? You can be rather dark sometimes.]
"You got a problem with that?"
[No, I would rather prepare it this way since evil deed often spreads more than good deeds.]
"True, people just like to hate, don't they?"
I let out a tired yawn; projecting oneself to the world was a rather tiring task. So, from time to time, he needed to retreat into his inner world to rest.
And he absolutely hated this place.
Endless white desert and black void sky, this place reminded him of the purgatory, which, let's just say, he spent a good few decades wandering around. That's probably the reason behind his inner world taking this shape.
"Vin, my boy... can you just die already?"
***
The smell of blood wasn't pleasant, but over time, Vin got used to it. Actually, everyone serving under the warrior would quickly get used to the smell of blood, for it was everywhere. But in one place, particularly, this smell was unusually strong.
Kennel.
Where the warrior is beloved, hounds are held, and at least once, every servant in this house looked at them with some envy. They are well fed, well taken care of, hold positions higher than them, and don't need to be under the stress of sudden outbursts of the warrior. Nobody ever saw the warrior raise his hands towards the hounds.
Still, nobody truly dared to come close to this place since only the gods knew how many servant kids those vile beasts had eaten over time.
Well, Vin knew how many kids they had eaten.
Seventeen.
Just thinking about the screams he heard coming from here made him wanna simply leave this place, but he can't. For him to escape successfully, he must first get rid of those beasts.
In his hand, he held a piece of meat, its soft red color indicated its freshness. Well, it's not like those beasts would mind if the meat was fresh or not. He soaked it with some drowsiness-indulging medicines, so once they ate the meat, they would get knocked out soon enough.
He opened a slight gap in the door, and the sound of the heavy metal door sliding on a stone floor seemed like waking up the hounds as he heard a howling behind the door. Without much hesitation, he throws the piece of meat inside the kennel and quickly closes the door.
He closed his eyes and started counting; the hounds should fall asleep a minute or two later. He closes his eyes, trying to calm his wildly beating heart.
He can't waver now; he has already come this far. Once the warrior notices the missing medicine and portion of the food supply, he will start investigating immediately. He probably would be the prime suspect since currently, only he knew how to utilize those medicines.
Even beyond the metal door, he focused enough that he could hear the howling of the hounds. They are still awake, tearing apart that meat, munching it... then he heard it, a scream. His eyes snap open in shock, with immediate fear visible inside them mixed with panic.
Someone inside the kennel with the hounds?! Did the warrior throw someone else here without him noticing? He wasn't sure what to do; should he help them? Should he open the door?
The scream still echoed from inside the kennel, a desperate scream for help. No word came out from it, not one that he could understand. Maybe they were in pain, maybe the hounds got their tongue, he didn't know.
But reality didn't allow him to keep sitting there, slowly swirling into the panic. With a loud bang, something crashed into the metal door, almost pushing him away from where he was sitting. Someone tried to get out of the kennel, and they weren't a hound.
His first instinctive move wasn't to open the door to create a gap for them to escape, but to reach for the lock of the door. A cowardly move, he knew, but the hounds might escape the moment he opened the door, and he didn't think the piece of meat he gave was enough to satiate their hunger.
But is it right to really abandon someone like this? Suddenly, the bloody scene of the morning comes to his mind. What if he were a little more courageous at that moment? Perhaps that boy would have survived instead of releasing him from this burden of promise.
Maybe it is time for him to act a little braver and take a risk. He tried to pull his hand back and even take a step back so he could pull the door open. Sadly, it's only he who tried.
"Whoever remains last among us must survive, okay? No matter what, no matter what happened, they must survive and fulfill our promise. Escape this hellhole and... free us all."
His hand froze where it was before rushing to the lock of the door on its own. It held the lock tightly, no matter how much he tried, his arm didn't obey him.
'Shut up.'
"Hey Vin, the voice is still there?... stay strong, buddy. We will get out of here... I promise."
He can still hear the cry from the other end of the door, it only gets louder rather than calming down. The sound of constant banging on the door, choking on their tear, and the sound of scratching... he could hear it clearly as if there was no wall between them.
'Shut up! You didn't even make the first month.'
"Live for me, Vin... be stronger than me... keep living on... no matter what."
With a clank, the door was now locked, the cry from the other side intensified, but Vin said nothing. Quietly stares at the door as a lone line of tears appears on his face.
'Shut up! Please...'
As if listening to his cry, the cry from the other end stopped... it went to complete silence. The kid at the other end has taken his last breath. He fell on his knee, feeling weak.
Once again, he had failed to save anyone but himself.
And do you know what's the most ridiculous thing? He wished the sadistic ghost that tormented him until now were with him right now.
For a simple reason... so he would have someone to blame and lessen his burden, at least a little bit.
A bitter laughter escaped from his mouth, but the sound he made sounded like anything but laughter.
Soon, even that fades away too, and soon his face returns to being expressionless. If there is one thing that he mastered during his life, then that would be controlling his expression.
Smile even if you were going to throw up, cry even if you feel nothing... that's how the slaves survive in this world. Once you learn how to control your expression, you can suppress your own emotions in a way of hypnotising yourself. He has gone too far to stop by the death of a mere stranger.
He placed his ear on the door, trying to hear if the hounds were still awake or not. He heard nothing, only deathly silence, no howling or sound of meat being torn apart, which means the medicine has worked.
He unlocked the door as he tried to pull it open silently of possible even so the ugly sound of the metal door and stone floor kissing each other didn't soften much. After creating a gap that's just enough for him to enter, he slides into the kennel. The hounds whimpered as he got close to them, probably subconsciously feeling his intent... good.
From his bag, he slowly pulled out a hammer and chisel, he came close to the first hound. It has white and black fur, which almost looked beautiful if it wasn't for the fact that almost half of its white fur was turning brown because constantly being tainted by blood. He got close to it before going on his one knee, pointing the chisel at its temple and raising the hammer.
He took a deep breath, ready to deliver the finishing blow to the first hound...
The hound whimpered once again as it felt the cold, rusty steel touching its fur, unaware that it would be the thing that would end its life. Vin took another deep breath, still holding the hammer high.
He hesitated.
Even though he hated those beasts... he still hesitated.
"Omel."
The sound of something shattering and a splash echoed through the kennel. He slowly moved to the next one, still shaky from what he had just done.
"Casper"
Vin moves to the next hound. Vin tried to stop himself, at least pause and took a deep breath. Calm the sick feeling building inside his stomach... but his body refused to do so.
"Mars."
Another name and another hound finish their stay in the living world. Was this grudge that moving his body or something else, but he wasn't sure. He came in front of the last hound, raising his hammer once again, waiting for the voice to call another name.
But it didn't.
Silence continued a little bit, longer than he would ever want it to continue. He even considered doing it on his own, just hit the chisel and be over with this after all, for him, the longer he stayed like this less chance of escaping from here he would have. He clenched his teeth, yes, he must do it now... for the kids who come before him at least.
"Katrina..."
The fourth name was spoken by him as he delivered the finishing blow to the beast. Only after that blow, he felt the aching feeling coming through his arms... what could I say other than the sculpting was no job for a malnourished child like him. He was sure he would regret using a hammer and chisel as a weapon.
For now, it's time to flee from this shithole once for all. Slowly pushing open the door completely, he felt the moonlight boring upon him. Taking a deep breath of fresh air of the night, he let his shoulders relax a little bit, with that little action, he felt like he let a weight of the world slide off his shoulders, freeing him from that unnamed pressure keeping him tense all the time.
He glanced back, and there lay the corpse of four hounds, their brains had revealed others to see and pests to feed upon. They lay their circling bundle of meat that was no longer recognizable, only then did he realize... there was no one been at the other side of the door when he locked it. If there were then hounds wouldn't have ate the meat he gave.
The one who cried for help at that moment was he himself, no one else. He looked down, finally noticing what had happened to his clothes. The fresh blood of the hounds emitted a foul smell; it wasn't only his clothes that were covered in this crimson liquid, he himself too was soaked in it, but perhaps that was for the best. Because it would finally wash away the illusion of him having a way to go back to being a slave.
He closed his eyes, taking a few steps forward, fully coming out from the cover of the kennel, bathing in the light of the night, he let out a small sigh.
'I'm free...'
At least, he took the first step.