Where's Your Home When You Have Not A Heart?
Part 6
The night grew before it began to fade, and the darkness left nothing but fog and mist in it's path, dampening the streets with a thin layer of percipitation. As the air grew more moist, Seth decided that he would leave for shelter before the dawn began to sprout it's buds.
His footsteps echoed through the night as he stormed down the street to the old chruch. He crawled deep inside it's depths, curling up in the rafters as the floorboards krept like spiders, sending more fear through him than the dead to the living. If he were discovered in daylight- that would be the end. Or something near it. He knew the townspeople here- He knew their rituals. Such superstitious beings as himself were not just murdered. They were tortured.
He watched as maiden after maiden were charged as a witch and drowned. He watched gentlemen charged for murders they had never comitted, and hanged at that very thought. H watched innocent citizen after innocent citizen charged and murdered for mindless acts. Acts that he knew were far more than anyone could bear- nothing but mind tricks. Dreams. Nightmares. Discomforts. Mind sicknesses.
Mysterious sicknesses... horrid things. Worse than any plague or epidemic. They never ended. The sicknesses lived deep in people's minds... borrowing out their sanity until it rotted. And Seth watched as civilizations casted the sick away: Threw them in houses, locked them up.
And he began to wonder if he would be locked up. Of course, it was highly imaginable, and nothing but a pure thought. A thought Seth used to drift himself to sleep for the remaining hours of the day that the sun did come from it's hearse to peer into the lives of the known. Lives he wished to observe.
Seth was discusted at the lives he had observed. Night after night. He watched as chauvanistic beasts spent their nights in taverns to come home in early morn to rape their wives. He watched as harlots stole even their own dignity. As lords threw away their lives for the greedy coin of those who did not own such things. He watched the needy beat the rich for food and a few coins. He watched as even the rats coward away in fear from the savage insanity he knew so well. He saw the side of life that these people did not know so well. In their days of sunshine, and their busy streets, their flaws were hidden in the friendly greets, rush and hustle.
And this, he pitied them for. This, he felt he almost needed thanks for. For ending the lives of those who suffered day after day. And he knew it was wrong. A sign that he was losing his mind.
His footsteps echoed through the night as he stormed down the street to the old chruch. He crawled deep inside it's depths, curling up in the rafters as the floorboards krept like spiders, sending more fear through him than the dead to the living. If he were discovered in daylight- that would be the end. Or something near it. He knew the townspeople here- He knew their rituals. Such superstitious beings as himself were not just murdered. They were tortured.
He watched as maiden after maiden were charged as a witch and drowned. He watched gentlemen charged for murders they had never comitted, and hanged at that very thought. H watched innocent citizen after innocent citizen charged and murdered for mindless acts. Acts that he knew were far more than anyone could bear- nothing but mind tricks. Dreams. Nightmares. Discomforts. Mind sicknesses.
Mysterious sicknesses... horrid things. Worse than any plague or epidemic. They never ended. The sicknesses lived deep in people's minds... borrowing out their sanity until it rotted. And Seth watched as civilizations casted the sick away: Threw them in houses, locked them up.
And he began to wonder if he would be locked up. Of course, it was highly imaginable, and nothing but a pure thought. A thought Seth used to drift himself to sleep for the remaining hours of the day that the sun did come from it's hearse to peer into the lives of the known. Lives he wished to observe.
Seth was discusted at the lives he had observed. Night after night. He watched as chauvanistic beasts spent their nights in taverns to come home in early morn to rape their wives. He watched as harlots stole even their own dignity. As lords threw away their lives for the greedy coin of those who did not own such things. He watched the needy beat the rich for food and a few coins. He watched as even the rats coward away in fear from the savage insanity he knew so well. He saw the side of life that these people did not know so well. In their days of sunshine, and their busy streets, their flaws were hidden in the friendly greets, rush and hustle.
And this, he pitied them for. This, he felt he almost needed thanks for. For ending the lives of those who suffered day after day. And he knew it was wrong. A sign that he was losing his mind.