"That's how it starts, The Fever, The Rage, The feeling of Powerlessness, that turns good men, Cruel."
she knew that feeling, oh yes, she knew
that feeling well. When she was younger, it was how she lived. White noise only
existed in her life, in all aspects, for it kept the pain, the anger away. When
she killed, she went somewhere else, and this other side of her would emerge. A
side she still feared lingered deep inside her somewhere, dormant, but waiting.
This other side was nasty, had no emotions, followed all orders given and
enjoyed the kill. But, as she soon found out, every time you take a life, you
lose a part of yourself, that saying was very very true. For her life had
become empty, emotionless, hallow, void....all that existed was White Noise,
all that she heard were the "Masters" commands, not the screams of
the ones she tortured, or the dying rattles of the ones whose life she stole, nothing
but White Noise. And though her body was covered in scars, she felt neither the
lash of the "Masters" whip against her back, nor the brands they used
to sear her skin. She made no noise, didn't bat an eyelash, or even cry, no
matter how hard they punished her. That scared them, and deep inside, herself.
A Ghost...was what she had become. A Waif, traveling from place to place. The
Silent Death, for it came swiftly and followed her upon her path.
It was only when she turned from it that
such things like emotions, and reaction started to come slowly back. Painfully
slow. Trust....hard fought and hard won. Love...had not respect for it till she
felt the gentle touch of someone without a lash in their hands.
Loyalty....Something she never walked away from. She was nothing if not loyal,
to a fault. Honor....same hand as Loyalty but nearly choked on it when one
"Master" wanted her to slay another. A wicked predicament that was.
It took time, as it does for all, but slowly, the woman she had been growing
into before this life made her cold, calculating and aloof, slowly peeked out.
She smiled more, she learned to laugh, she found joy....if not peace.
Peace...she only felt peace when she was with her triplets and family.
Everything went quiet, slowed down, felt blissful when she was with them.
Time heals all wounds, they say. And they
are half right. Time heals most wounds...others, we have to heal ourselves.
