Cleans and Rebirth - Tales of Old

Entries from across the three realms, tales of the damaged, twisted and corrupt. The eyes in the fire and the voice in the night.

In essence these are simply personal notes for a very, very large story. Everything is part of one narrative but very little may make sense.

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4. Extract 4 - Locks

The sound of children’s happiness became a plague upon my ears. Whoever thought it a good idea, why even was I ever a good idea? Knowing what I was made for, to hurt people. What kind of burden to wish upon a child? Every day I am reminded of my imperfections, my demon, my other half. What am I even saying, there is no other half. I am the demon. I’m every part as loathsome as the rancid limb I’m attached to. The only living specimen of what should never be.  A twisted holy-born forged from the mind of my own wretched farther. What I wouldn’t give to see him again, to pull his head from his neck just one more time. And some forsaken scum had the nerve to do it again, took children from the high born to make of them some ‘God child’ all corrupt and deformed. I killed them, all of them. Both creator and creation. If you had seen them too, if you knew what they were, what they would become…You’d have done the same. I burn it all, all of it. The notes, the potions, the putrid ash. By some hellish miracle it ever returns, I’ll be ready. I will cut the head of all who partake in this sick practice. They want to dissect me? They may only try. Man cannot create a God in a world where they are forever absent. If he were real, I wouldn’t be.  

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