Sneak peak #2 · 7:46pm May 16th, 2016
Unlike the previous one, this one's a short snippet from an original work that I'm writing
The dream was the same as the one before. Blurred, red and violent. Citizens of Crestfall ran around screaming, some of them missing a leg, others missing an arm. He didn't just see the carnage unfold, he was the one behind it. Whether they screamed, ran or even tried to defend themselves, they could not stop him from carrying out the Blood Goddess' will.
"The world is your canvas and they are your means of giving it colour." Those were the words she had supposedly told the Grand Inquisitor and they were to be followed without question. A very little number of Initiates or even Adepts enjoyed what they were doing in the dream, but did it anyway out of fear and necessity. And so, like the night before, he went to main plaza and started cutting away, be it man, woman or child.
Then, before he was done, the dream ended abruptly and he woke up feeling as tired as the night before, if not more.
For the lower ranks, it was never about the completion or the fulfilment of the task but about the tease before the inevitable end, the blurred faces, the undecipherable gibberish, the gratifying feeling of being able to let out excess steam on someone who wasn't even real. For some, this experience alone was horrifying, but for him, the real horror didn't come from the blood or the cries that fell on zealous, non-existent ears.
It came from him – he was starting to like it.
He wasn't sure how to describe the sensation, explain the surge of adrenaline or endorphins or even his cold, systematic approach to the ordeal. Such was the strength of her influence, the ability to turn even sedentary, shy rats like himself into sadistic killing machines.
Candidates were hand-picked from a selection of boring, humdrum or otherwise forgettable individuals. The more isolated, the better. Entry was optional, but once inside the Crestfall Monastery, there was no escape. You could look around, pretend that you're still the person you were before you decided to leave all of it behind, but somewhere deep inside, a feeling of dread awakened.
Later that night, she would speak to you and at midnight, they would brand you like cattle, against your will and without any warning, your dreams irreversibly replaced by senseless bloodshed that had no beginning or end.
