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Monday, April 09, 2007

The life of the Damned Part 1

I have been suffering from a severe case of writer's block lately, but suddenly as I was kind of boring myself nearly to death my imagination worked itself to new hights. If you're reading this, I hope you will consider reading the entire post and even post a comment. Thank you in advance. Oh and if you notice any difference in the size of the letters, I'm on my brothers laptop at the moment, sitting in some damn old house far out in the countryside.

There was a cold breeze blowing into the face of the Mender as he drew closer to the backstreet in where his chosen victim lay in shock. Mender, bah! They call me damned for the simplest reason, I am different. He noticed the positure of her body as he came closer, she was simply lying slumped in a curled ball, bloody and beaten. He readied himself, he cleared out all thoughts and daydreams, this was not a time to be distracted.
As he walked into the dirty alley, he crouched down in front of her and took her head into his gloved hands. “Brisman, what happened to this poor gal?” he asked the man for order standing to his left. “The poor girl was raped, back and front, by many damn pervs, 5 is my guess. And mender, do your best.” “I always do.” She's likely to be past any of the other “damned”'s abilitys, so they send me! He thought angrily, but there was no question in him helping her or not, he would help any within his ability, and he doubted there were any that he wouldn't be able to “mend”. He focused on his hands, he put his entire awareness into focusing on his hands as he felt the sides of her head. He kept focusing entirely on the fingertips of his hand until something snatched his consience away and into the unknown. He could sense memories and sensations all around his extended awareness and he floated willingly around until he arrived at the source of her physical pain, and then he put his will to stop the floating and followingly he stopped.

He tenderly entered the source of the pain with extended tendrils of his awareness, this singular memory had been enough to shatter the remaints of sanity that had been present in her mind before the incident. Poor young girl. He thought just as he realized that she was just about his age. Time to get to work then. He let himself float around and about the girl's awareness noting to himself what she could be doing lying in an alley at this time of day. After a while he figured that the best he could come up with was that she had been robbed, which wouldn't carry with it the everlasting memory and pain that rape would.

So he thought of the memory as he remembered it, and sure enough, when he entered the memory closest to him, it was obvious that it was the right one. First, a blow to the head, and then awakening to the terrorizing fact that there were men standing all around her, and that she had something foul-tasting in her mouth. He instead thought of waking up laying pained and slumped curled in a tight ball realizing that her money was gone. And as he thought, her memory changed, making it identical to his idea. He simply prolonged the lying through the length of the memory, spicing it up with some twisting and a few sounds, but as he did, he was forced to experience the rape as she did, and allthought this pained him, he tried to convince himself that he had felt worse, allthough he wasn't sure that he had. In the aftermath of finishing with her memory, he was simply floating around willingly letting himself being pulled around by the swirling presences of sensations and memories. Then he caught himself, and started out for the source of the physical pain, at the center of the nerves in her awareness. And then he flung his entire awareness between the nerves and her own awareness and willed thepain to pass faster, increasing incredibly in amount of pain, but it wouldn't last longer then a few seconds, as his mind wen't blank by maddening agony he willed it to pass faster and as he did the pain increased. Yet after 15 seconds that seemed to last forever the pain let go, and this bode well, for then the wounds would have knitted back together and the flesh would have healed. This was a crucial time for he had to get out before she returned from her state of unconsiousness.

Yet when he tried to swirl past the edge of her awareness he heard the word “Ungelistable” uttered. Damn, she just had to be one eh? Of course, we are talking about my luck here. He was close to despair as he hurried to the edge of her awareness. As he was closing the edge of her awareness, a spark of hope was born but as he reached it he felt himself blocked. Bloody witch. His mind rang as 3 words were spoken by an insanely loud voice “Well hello there.” The voice seemingly slightly amused. “Don't do this to me.” He imagined himself speaking inside his mind. The voice spoke again, it was clearly female. “Why not, you entered by your own accord of course. You wouldn't happen to be this lad who has his hands on the sides of my head would you ?” “I was simply here to 'mend' your wounds after the robbery. As to your other question, yes that is me.” “You seem young to be one of the damned in this town.” “Am I supposed to
tolerate this from you?” “Well since you're at my mercy here, I'd suggest that you learn some manners, or else I'd might decide to get you lost.. Forever."

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Posted by Ragnar @ 4:48 AM

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thanks for the shoutout!

--and keep writing, it's all you can do to get through the "dry" patches..

Posted by Blogger otilius @ 7:20 AM #
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The art of living is more like wrestling than dancing.
Marcus Aurelius Wisdom outweighs any wealth.
Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it we go nowhere.
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My life
About me
The life of the damned
The retired assasin