And should I thank her for that? Maybe so. In this stinking life it was the best thing that’s ever been bred into me… I would never have survived so long had I not nursed in the lap of such a harsh mistress. But did she speak to me? Did I truly see myself? Or am I loosing my fucking mind? Can’t be sure. The one thing I do know is that I feel different now. I can…hear things better…people, the trees, animals… And I can still feel the burn of her lamp eyes behind the darkness of my bad eye… I think that Kaspar would probably understand. He’s into all this creepy shit. But I don’t want to say anything – not yet. I couldn’t handle being made fun of by that guy. And talking about it would feel a little too much like talking about my “feelings”. I fucking hate talking about my feelings.
But finally getting to cut the tongue out of fat, greasy, piece of shit liar? Now THAT is a feeling I can talk about. What a rush! Looking into his beady little eyes as the light went out – seeing the fear as I yanked his tongue from his head… But it didn’t feel as good as I wanted it to. I thought it would fear more satisfying once it was all over – I thought the feeling would last longer… But once he was dead… Well, the hate I bore him had nowhere to go. And it didn’t leave me… I still felt that dark burning deep inside me… But I kept that tongue… It will always be a reminder.
And really – something kind of good came from it. I met my little brother. And boy is he a tenacious little bastard. And fighting for the good of the citizenry? Wow – a regular avenging angel. But I guess Piotr taught us all at an early age what we’d never want to become. He’s apparently working for the Stag Lord now – a right hand man or something. It figures that a piece of shit like him would throw in with fairy-wine addicted sadist. A least I didn’t have to look Piotr in the face. I wouldn’t admit this to anyone – but out of everything in this world or the next, he’s really the only thing that puts the fear of the gods in me. He’s just a man, like everyone else. I just have to keep telling myself that.
And it’s nice to know that my little brother still remembers me…especially with what I have become. (Looks in a shard of glass at her haggard visage)
I was so much prettier once. (she sighs) But that way only leads to trouble. It’s better this way. This way, they know that if they fuck with you, it may be the last time they fuck anything. (grins and turns to sharpening her sword) Like Yakob. The last thing he ever saw was this ugly mug smiling down at him as I took from him everything he was and ever would be. Now that is what I call justice.