The plains of the world have shifted in the eyes of the cold hearted. And the whispers are fading into nothing as the warrior rises to face her doom. The shackles of her life are binding around her, to show her that she cannot do this on her own. But what will the price become when the seas of broken homes swallow her whole? The vices to be unfounded are the ones she must endure. For her long hair is tangled in the souls of the forgotten lands. O, sister of old, what are you trying to tell me as you spin your curses into the webs in the sands of time? What can you see that I do not? Is this just the test or is this a faded memory of the future’s hold on me? It’s not a treasured tale, nor is it a happy one to make the blood pump hard within your soul. The screams of the forgotten child are the screams untold. Bast Azazel, they once called her, but that identity was lost in the old times. The Master controlled her every decision, her every move, and her every action. The gold she earned was cast to him so he could take it and spend it on whores, jewels, and hearty meals. Bast was always dressed in a shredded slavery dress, and her hair was always in the long ponytail that was braided gently. She’d walk the halls of the shallow home she dwelled in, but her room was the place where she would let her dreams fade to black. Through the small window of her room, she would see the Scottish plains with view of the sea in the distance. Nothing was going to let her be able to sail away as she looked at her skinny belly, for the Master did not know that she was to bare his only child soon. She was nothing more than a slave to all his wishes; she knew she must escape soon. As the sun set on the horizon, Bast cleaned after the hearty meal of the evening was finished. She sat back down and was afraid to speak. She was afraid to speak because the Master would scold her if she said one thing wrong. Her heart was a fragile crystal that had been glued together too many times. But she worked up the courage. “Master,” she spoke softly, “do you ever wish there was more to life other than on your throne and enjoying your…company, wine, and treasures?” The Master was taken aback by Bast’s question. He sat back and put his arms behind his head as he thought of an answer. “I guess a child with a beautiful woman.” Bast was blown away by the Master’s answer. “Really? Then why don’t you? Or what if the wenches you court with have already conceived your child? What if more than one?” she spoke, knowing an answer to the statement he already made. The Master was astonished and shocked, for he did not know that she knew his darkest secrets within. “That could never happen! For I am a loyal man with a loyal heart!” he shouted as he stood up and banged the table with his mighty fist. “The blackened heart is what you have! And I have seen the wenches go in and out of this place like you do with them! Can you not see? You have me here to witness all of this in silence! Why can’t you see that you keep me here to just fulfill your wishes or fantasies when you are bored?” Bast shouted at the Master. She turned around and fled to the staircase, she looked behind her and as a slow motion began to begin, he ran after her. He grabbed her leg and pulled her down the stairs. Her head banged against the staircase harshly, knocking a gash on her head. Blood trickled out slowly, while her breathing labored quietly. Bast was walking in a dark forest, just as the sun began to set; her black dress swirled in the wind. She was just searching through the trees, examining the colors in the sky, and watching the leaves change their colors. A cool breeze wrapped around her, and she stopped dead in tracks because something caught her attention. She looked slowly to her left; a dark being formed out of the shadows. Like a slow-motion camera being played, Bast turned to her right and began to run. The dark being chased her with an axe in his hand. Bast ran and ran as fast as she could, but her breath grew weak as she fell to the ground, knocking her head into a tree. She scurried up and stood with her back to the tree as the dark being lunged at her. She moved her head as the axe went in the tree. The dark being, now more clearly was shown as a cloaked man in a black hood that hid his face. Bast raised her hand to swipe at the man to remove his mask, but his axe swung and slit her wrist. His axe swung down and Bast moved, but not enough, a small slit was made onto her side. She covered her wrist with her other hand as blood poured out; the man swung and plunged the axe into her head. Breathing heavily, Bast sat up straight in her bed. She looked next to her, only to find the Master snoring next to her. She examined her body and saw the scars from years ago on her wrist glow a hot red. Her black lace bra and black, silk thong were still on. She quietly got out of the bed and went into the bathroom of her room. She shut the door and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Looking down at her stomach as the morning sun shone into the small window of the bathroom. The light shone in a perfect, spotlight circle upon her belly as she formed a heart with her hands, and she whispered, “I love you, nothing is going to harm me or you.” Quietly, she turned on the shower and stripped her clothes off gently. The warm, steamy water felt good against her tired back, but she winced in pain as she examined a small cut in her side. She shook her head, remembering her dream; she went back to enjoying her morning shower. She put her hands on the wall, arched her back, letting the water steam down along her curves. Her eyes were shut as she moaned in satisfaction to the pain relieving shower hit her perfectly. She opened her eyes slowly and saw a shadow on the other side of the shower curtain. Without even thinking, Bast took the showerhead off the wall with so much force and swung it to knock the shadow down, covering him in the shower curtain. She jumped out of the shower and looked down quickly, only to see the cloaked man from her dream. She didn’t bother to see who it was; some blood was trickling from his head. She ran out, shut the door, and ran downstairs to an old closet underneath the stairwell. She locked it and lit the tiny lamp inside the room. She looked into the mirror at herself. Her hair all matted and soaking wet along with her body. She threw on a black long-sleeve shirt that hugged her body and a pair of tight, black jeans. Quickly, she put on her boots and opened the cabinet doors that were above the mirror. The cabinet had blades in them, a variety of knives, swords, and razorblades. She grabbed her long, samurai type sword and threw the sword sling around her shoulder. Bast took one final look in the mirror and saw her eyes begin to glow a bright silver-white, and her two side teeth grew sharp & fine, like a vampire, but she wasn’t a vampire. Slowly, Bast opened the door and slipped out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. She began to make her way to the door of the mansion; she looked behind her and felt a cool breeze. Her eyes closed as she remembered it from a dream. “This isn’t happening,” she whispered to herself. The dark, cloaked being was at the top of the stairs, looking down at her with an evil, red glow in his eyes. Bast was no coward, she did not run for she did not fear him one bit. Neither fear nor anger raced through her veins. She lowered her head and stared at her feet, then raised her head gently as her hair covered her face. She took her sword out of the case and brought it up to her face. The hot glow of her eyes ignited her blade, so radiant and beautiful. The dark being swooshed down the stairs and their blades clanged together. The fire of the dark being’s blade mixed with the light enflaming Bast’s sword. She pushed his blade away from hers and he lunged at her, cutting her leg open in the process. She fell to the ground. She did not scream in pain nor did she care about the blood covering her leg. Breathing heavily, she got up and swung at the dark being, knocking him to the ground. With the tip of her sword pointing underneath his chin, she leaned forward and took the hood off the being. She took a step back as she saw the Master under the cloak. “You haunt my dreams, you rape me unconsciously, and now you try to kill me. While I stand here, staring at you…for the whores of your life; they have done nothing but pleasure you. I stand here, waiting for you to strike me down, but I will not let you, for I carry your bastard child!” Bast yelled, letting her voice echo through the halls of the room. The Master stared at her curiously. “What?” he responded, but Bast put her sword over his lips. “It’s too late, for you won’t see him or me anymore,” she answered. With a swift stroke, she decapitated him. His blood covering the blade as it glowed red with honor. Bast took her silk scarf off the coat hanger and wiped the blade off. She walked out of the mansion, closing the doors behind her. She went forward, never looked back again; she headed for the coastline, to sail away into a new world, a new life, and a new home. She looked across the field and saw a man, dressed in black with short, shoulder-length hair, standing there looking at her. She smiled, and carried on forward. She met up with the man on the field, and they walked, and sailed away together.
Posted on: Sun, 01 Sep 2013 00:57:49 +0000
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