The Sinner Read online

  It was my own piece of heaven.

  The land was beautiful; abundant with vegetation and

  Wildlife that one could survive on for many years.

  That was my fortune, to live off of the land,

  Bother no one and have no one bother me in return.

  For quite some time I was able to keep to myself

  Without any threat from the outside.

  There were many settlers on the mountains and

  We each honored personal space.

  There were no fences or boundaries to separate the land.

  It was common courtesy

  That one would not venture too far away

  From their own soil to farm or hunt.

  We respected each other by neither expanding our own land

  Nor encroaching upon others.

  We had no laws or regulations

  Written like the cities in order to keep peace.

  We only needed the respect from others in order to survive.

  All would change with the approaching battle

  Between the adjacent kingdoms.

  Two ruling kings hated each other so much that they both

  Went on a rampage across the terrain.

  They desired to lay claim

  With their flags on as much land as they could.

  They competed with one another on

  Who would control most of the region.

  That power struggle reaped across the valleys and mountains,

  Destroying the lives of all in its path.

  The conflict was over territories and

  Never developed into full out warfare.

  Occasionally there would be bloodshed

  When groups of guards and scouts

  Came across the same property.

  I believed that the surrounding land

  Was easier to capture than the opposing kingdom.

  Acquirement of massive land amounts

  Translated into more power

  When and if the kingdoms were to fully battle one another.

  I was well secluded away in the mountains,

  Enough so that my property remained one of the last.

  I remember the thundering sound of the horses

  Galloping up my mountain path

  Like a black plague creeping across the white snow,

  Contaminating my land with every hoof.

  I merely stood and watched as they approached.

  With their tattered battle flag dancing in the wind,

  They rode upon their shadowed horses.

  Their solid black armor with spikes, chains and weapons

  Probably intimidated most, but I was not impressed.

  My ego presented me with only anger

  Knowing that I was about to lose my livelihood.

  I was not going to offer my soul as well.

  The horses were strong in appearance; massive in stature.

  They panted heavily as their warm breath blended with the cold.

  The travel up the mountainside proved tiresome for them.

  I had intentionally allowed the snowfall to conceal the path.

  The atmosphere leading up to their encounter was serene.

  The mountain was unusually peaceful and calm.

  I knew my life was about to change for the worse.

  I knew what they were here for;

  I knew they needed to claim my land

  To appease the appetite of their greedy king.

  Knowing that in advance did not make the ritual any easier,

  Instead it provided me with enough reasoning

  To conjure up more resentment.

  I remember inhaling the mountain air for one last time and

  Smiling as they rode up upon me.

  With each breath I took, the thundering hooves grew louder.

  They were now close enough that I could see the riders.

  Huge, burly men covered in war hardened black armor

  That was scraped and misshaped from previous battles.

  As I stood there in my cloth tunic, I did not fear their armor.

  As I stood there armed with only a goblet of tea,

  I did not fear their weapons.

  If it was fear that they demanded,

  Then they would be deeply disappointed.

  As they came within the boundaries of my land,

  I could tell the horses did not care for the journey.

  Their mortality was somewhat comforting

  In regards to their barbaric personas.

  Their hooves sank deep into the snow and

  Kicked up large amounts as they galloped.

  I imagined them sinking through the ground,

  Unable to move as more snow piled upon them,

  Burying them all alive in a frozen coffin.

  Instead, the group halted their movements as they neared me.

  Without hesitation or permission, the lead rider carrying the flag

  Dismounted and approached me.

  He said a few scripted words and

  Stabbed the staff deep within my soil, penetrating my heart.

  I knew I was outnumbered, no match for even one of them,

  But the insult of claiming my land

  Cut me hard within my veins, splitting my emotions.

  A frustration built up inside me like boiling lava.

  It took the reins of my body and controlled my next actions.

  Following my rage instead of my conscience,

  I ripped the flag from my land and swung it towards him.

  The wooden staff connected with his armored helmet,

  Rotated it ever so slightly that he was unable to see out of it.

  Unfortunately, my once great powerful frustration

  Was not an everlasting experience.

  As I stood there with flag in hand,

  I watched him readjust his helmet

  So that his darkened eyes were once again visible.

  The state of silence that occurred at that precise moment

  Was more from confusion on the part of the guards.

  They were bewildered by a lone peasant in cloth returning force.

  Within moments each of them dismounted

  From their horses to join their comrade.

  I lowered their flag as a sign of peace,

  But I had made my disloyalty well known.

  They assaulted me with swiftness and intense brutality,

  Of which I had never experienced before.

  Blood poured from me and was captured by the snow

  Which absorbed my spill and created a red puddle.

  Between the beatings and their armored legs,

  I witnessed one of them set my cottage ablaze.

  No pain they were inflicting upon me

  As I laid there on the ground would match the sight

  Of my beloved home crumbling beneath the flames.

  My eyes rotated upwards in time to see a large war boot

  Descending upon my head.

  Apparently I had insulted the guards

  So much that I was placed in prison

  Where the beatings would continue.

  As the war between the two kingdoms raged on,

  I was eventually released as they required the prison cells

  For their true enemies.

  Although I was free, my situation was not for the better.

  I had no home and no place to go.

  Living on the streets turned out

  To be even more cruel than prison life.

  I do not know how I had survived in the beginning.

  I learned quickly and kept to my own.

  I constantly wished I had my mountain cottage again;

  Even contemplated escaping the city,

  But the guards were on defense.

  No one was leaving the city gates.

  I was forced to stay.

  I admired the night time; I felt that no one could see or judge me.

  The day time
offered a chance for the wealthy to condemn me,

  But the dark shielded me from those disgusted expressions.

  I felt that I became alive under the moon, that I ruled the city

  As the wealthy were tucked away in their houses.

  I was not alone in my feelings, as many of us came out at night.

  We viewed the fall of the sun as a celebration of life.

  On one such night while I walked the city streets,

  I was approached by a wealthy man

  Accompanied by two guards armed with mallets.

  The man accused me of stealing relics from his house.

  I denied his words and stated that I was no thief.

  However, the guards wasted no time entrusting the man.

  My words meant nothing in comparison.

  I was struck by one of the guard’s mallets

  Across the right side of my face.

  The heavy wood of the weapon

  Forced me off balance and briefly blurred my vision.

  I felt my brain tremble within my skull

  And held my head to ease the pain.

  The same frustration that I endured

  When my land was taken from me conjured up in me again.

  I lowered my hands from my head and

  Welcomed the shift that occurred within my mind.

  I was tired of the guards.

  I was tired of the wealthy.

  I was tired of the beatings.

  I was just, tired.

  From my weak kneeling state,

  I sensed that the man was about to strike me

  With the torch he was carrying.

  He needed that power above me.

  He needed to show his authority over me.

  I allowed it as every strike that I received fed into my anger.

  As he raised his torch high in the air

  To prove his importance, he laughed.

  His weapon of choice descended with weak power.

  I grinned in response as the assault did nothing to me

  But spark against my cloak.

  My disrespectful manner for the beating

  Sent the man into an uncontrollable rage,

  His onslaught was nothing that I had not encountered before.

  His attacks were minor as I was able to stand while he hit me.

  I sensed his frustration with me.

  He gestured to the guards to finish what he could not.

  The heavy mallets swung and lowered me down back to the ground.

  I tried to rise once again, but the guards were well skilled

  In the art of pain and punishment.

  Their weapons were well suited for the task,

  As the unforgiving wood shattered me like a weak branch.

  There was no hope for me.

  I laid face down in the street

  With mallets raining down upon me.

  Each attack I absorbed sent me closer to death,

  But I was elated with my sentence.

  I became numb from the pain with my vision

  Fading against the night sky.

  Between the armored boots of the guards I saw death in the form

  Of a grey wolf creeping towards me.

  The pearly white fangs of the beast glistened

  With drooling saliva leaking from the snarled lips.

  It was here to claim my soul and end my suffering.

  I welcomed it wholeheartedly.

  The beatings soon subsided and

  Were replaced with the heavy weight

  Of the guards lying upon me.

  The armor slumped down atop of me

  As if the guards fell asleep during their assault.

  One by one the guards were lifted from me.

  I felt a hand grab my arm and lift me up.

  I was supported by another peasant

  Who told me that we had to leave.

  In a dazed state I looked for the wolf, but death had vanished.

  I awoke on the ground covered with a blanket.

  I was still sore from the confrontation with the guards,

  But felt much better.

  The place in which I resided

  Was an underground tunnel of sorts beneath the city.

  I could hear people on the streets directly above me.

  The tunnel was dark with the only light coming from the cracks

  In the ceiling, which allowed moonlight to leak in.

  The dwelling was very damp

  With a surplus of water dripping from every crevice.

  I do not know how long I had been there,

  But from the results of my wounds,

  It was long enough to allow me to partially heal.

  A voice startled me and asked me how I was feeling.

  Seeing no one, I blindly responded that I was still sore.

  From the shadows a petite woman approached.

  She was strikingly beautiful in her appearance

  And instantly demanded all of my attention.

  I thanked her for her hospitality and care that she had given me.

  She said that I was near death when she happened upon me.

  I asked about the guards; she gave no answer.

  She was more curious as to how I felt emotionally

  Regarding what had occurred.

  I responded that I felt anger and hatred

  For what they had done to me.

  She prompted me for more details,

  More specifics about what my thoughts were.

  I tried to recollect, but I could not remember.

  She sensed my confusion and said it would come to me in time.

  Her words were comforting and allowed me to fall asleep.

  I awoke some time later to the touch of my savior

  Rubbing my head with a cool damp rag.

  I had not woken up so peacefully since I lived within my cottage.

  I felt completely healed both physically and mentally.

  I rose from the bed and stretched my once aching bones.

  She asked me how my wounds were.

  My response was that I felt wonderful

  As if I had bathed in holy water.

  She smiled and gestured for me

  To follow her as she had something to show me.

  I walked closely behind her

  While she winded through a series of darkened tunnels.

  She soon stopped in front of a lone door which blocked our path.

  I asked her where we were going; she offered no response.

  Instead she opened the door and walked inside a circular room.

  That was well lit from large cracks in the ceiling.

  In the middle of the area sat a man bound to a chair.

  From the looks of him he had been there for quite some time.

  I did not recognize him

  Due to his sagging head concealing his face.

  My confusion halted me from saying anything.

  My host strolled around the back of the chair

  With a demeanor similar to a snake and

  Graciously felt the man’s hair as she circled him.

  She asked me about my anger again,

  I responded that I had none at the moment.

  She smiled at me so seductively

  That I momentarily lost myself in her.

  She grabbed the man’s hair and lifted up his head

  To reveal the face of the wealthy man

  Who accused me of being a thief.

  My heart immediately began to siphon large amounts of blood.

  I felt my chest tighten.

  I involuntarily clinched my fist and

  Constricted both of my arms in revulsion.

  My eyes were fixated on the man

  With such intent that they began to water.

  She asked me what I was feeling.

  I told her that I was experiencing rage combined with anxiety.

  She told me not to deny my feelings;

  Not to bur
y them inside anymore.

  My anger did not fluster long, as

  I began to descend down from my plateau of hatred.

  I asked her what she had done.

  She shrieked in a loud angry tone that pierced my ear drums.

  The sound woke the man who began rambling

  As to where he was and why he was entrapped.

  I ignored him and asked her who she was.

  She gracefully approached me and

  Said that her name was Amon.

  She added that she was here to set me free.

  For some reason I had no choice

  But to believe every word that she said.

  She walked around me, dragging her hands across my shoulders.

  When she neared my front, she caressed both of my hands,

  And placed two daggers in them.

  The touch of the metal was soothing to my rough skin.

  The handles fit perfectly within my clutches.

  She was here to offer me vengeance and judgment.

  She leaned forward and whispered to fulfill my inner thoughts.

  She wanted me to kill the man,

  I told her that I could not do such a thing.

  My comments pushed her away from me.

  She walked back towards the prisoner

  Who was still murmuring about who he was and who he knew.

  She revealed another dagger and cut the ropes that bound him.

  He jumped up from the chair in a fury and

  Stated that he would have us both killed for what we had done.

  He caught vision of me and called me a thief once more.

  My anger remained at bay until

  Amon stated that he was the counselor

  Who decided which lands to capture around the city.

  I stood there with such animosity conjuring within my body

  That I became hot in temperature.

  The anger rushed through me and gave me no time to decipher

  Whether Amon was telling the truth or not.

  My impulses fell to the persuasion of frustration

  As I gripped the daggers tightly.