With what has happened tonight outside the Neutral Grounds and what he has witnessed, he can’t help but feel an overwhelming dread not out of fear that he will be suspected of the murder of the father and his children (which he is completely innocent of), but he is afraid himself. He is afraid of losing himself to his anger and to submit to his primal instinct of killing. Hell, mayhaps he is not afraid of himself, but of the demons that linger about within him. He has grown more paranoid tonight from his mission. It is best for him to calm himself, and it has been a long time since he’s had a nice long bath, not that he isn’t taking care of his hygiene. A more relaxing bath with aromatic candles should do well to quell this anxiety.
He threw a bath bomb and watched as it dissolved into nothingness. What was once clear water was now riddled with pink suds and soap, whatever is in bath bombs nowadays. The candles are lit and placed in choice locations, and all that’s left is to get naked and soak in. It felt nice to have a calming bath after a tiring fight. Thoughts of malice and dread pass away as Michael breaths in the fragrance coming from the scented candles. Minutes later, but not too much, he was in a completely calm state and, as he closes his eyes, he falls unconscious and sleeps.
A sudden horrid stench invades Michaels nose. Merely taking a whiff of it was enough for him to wake up, and he finds himself floating in a sea of blood. The somber yellow sky was filled with dark clouds that blocked out most of the light. Around him, several bodies float around which were all too familiar - some of them were the heretics of the Arch Vorbrunt Order while some of them were his most recent victims. He struggles to keep himself afloat amidst this grotesque scenery. He feels something touching his leg, something metallic, and it instantly grabs hold of his leg and drags him under. He tries to break free from its grip and his efforts proved futile when more sets of hands of varying textures and forms begin to drag him further down below. He was struggling, and was drowning.
And then he wakes up.
He’s been submerged for who knows how long. Even in respite, dread would always find a way to torment his mind. He’s decided he’s relaxed long enough and got out of the bathtub. After a quick rinse and a change of clothes, Michael was ready to head to bed when his phone was ringing. It was Giselle, and obviously, she would want to hear what had transpired in his mission. He was hesitant, but knows he can trust Giselle. She’s been a part of his life since his time as a soldier. Or rather, since he lost his memories. He picks up the phone and turns it on loudspeaker, sparing him the energy of holding his phone beside his ear. “Giselle.”
“Hi Michael! How did it go? Was it successful?” She asked the tired soldier. Michael didn’t want to tell her about his ordeal as a bloodthirsty berserker, so he thought it best to leave that part out. “Obviously. Were you calling me so I can regale you of my exploits? Because no. I am tired.” “No, you dummy. I wanted to update you about the jobs you were gonna take and I’m afraid the 2nd job is on hold. You’ll have to do the 3rd job for now, you know, the one involving a terrorist.” She says as if she was Michael’s manager of some sorts. In a way, she is. Without her help, he wouldn’t be able to make a living and keep himself employed. “Oh, I see. I was itching to test out my magic’s infiltration skills. That’s unfortunate. Any other updates?” It was obvious Michael was getting more tired the longer he’s calling her. He let out a few yawns here and there while she was talking. “No, I don’t, though I’ll send you updates tomorrow. I’ve taken much of your time, so I’m gonna hang up. Have a good night, Michael!” The call ends.
As sudden as he closed his eyes, Michael was suddenly overcome with a wave of sickness that he felt the urge to throw up. Foul magics were afoot and Michael didn’t notice. He vomited all over the toilet and felt terribly sick, it’s as if a witch has put a curse or hex on him. In truth, this wave of sickness was caused by the weakening of the sigil, and the demons inside him are threatening to burst out. It took a good long while for the excessive vomiting to stop, and it looked like he just vomited his entire dinner. And not just that - he was also vomiting blood. He flushed the toilet as soon as the feeling of regurgitating ceased and went to rinse his mouth off of the awful taste of vomit and blood. He felt even more tired than ever and quickly went to his bedroom to sleep.
The moon sets on the horizon and the sun rises. A new day has come. Michael does his usual routine with the help of his helper bots. After bathing, eating breakfast, and equipping himself of his gear and weapons, he sets out and leaves for the lodge outside the Neutral Grounds to rendezvous with Giselle.
[ Word Count - 921 / 2500 ]
Last edited by Knight Owl on 20th August 2020, 2:16 pm; edited 1 time in total