Chapter 147: Vile, Evil, and Inhumane

Chapter 147: Vile, Evil, and Inhumane

Chapter 147

Vile, Evil, and Inhumane

A shadow moved swiftly and silently, creeping between the simplistic houses unheard and unseen. It was like a knife searing through the pounds of flesh effortlessly, gliding through the many soft throats and ending lives as unsuspectingly. There was something dastardly and bedeviled about Sylas as he shadowed life in the hidden mountains and made it undone. His face was expressionless, eyes void of guilt and hesitation.

His hands didnt shake and his lips didnt quiver and his mind didnt waver. And yet, he didnt stop to question it. After all, it was normal--by now--who he had become. At the flip of a switch, he would cease being human. His heart would still, and all those emotions that would pile into the gut and churn out their demands would be frozen in time, suspended in the state of permanent ignorance.

He could disassociate one reality from another--fabricate an entirely new world and, more importantly, an entirely new self. This was, partly, why he didnt want Asha with him. She would not understand, not in the slightest, that he had to do this. He suspected that nobody normal, truly, would understand. And he understood that. Normal people, after all, dont have to kill without asking questions, without bothering to uncover the truth. After all, for all he knew, most everyone if not everyone he'd killed up to this point could just be an innocent who lived here by happenstance. And still, he didn't care.

The guide of his soul was anger--and that anger was rooted in his soul. It flourished into unbound hate that he simply couldnt ignore. For so many years, that anger, that hate was focused inwardly. Innumerable wounds and scars festered within him as a result, with maggots feeding on the necrotic waste that was his inner self. For the first time, it felt, he had a direct outlet for it--something and someone to point the finger at besides himself. Though anger lays buried, it thrives nonetheless. He always knew hed have to do this. Once, twice, thrice--however many times he needed to do it.This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com

In a way, it was only possible in a loop. He did it because he knew it could be undone. Were it not for the chance at a restart, hed either become maniacal and do it, severing the last bond he had with humanity within, or hed continue stabbing himself with the memories until, inevitably, dying. As such, this was a particular set of circumstances where, as the saying went, he could have the cake and eat it.

He made swift progress, but it still seemed slow--there were so many houses, stacked both horizontally across several dozen islands, but also vertically across the strangely-shaped mountain. He hadnt even gotten to the latter before the dawn began to surge. Soon, he knew, screams of horror would envelop the site--but he simply hid in one of the houses. In fact, it worked in his favor, since hed get to learn immediately who was in charge rather than having to blindly stab away until he lucked into it.

"The one that's not afraid to do the unthinkable himself, at least," he fired back. "On that day, I made several promises to myself. One of them was that I would find those responsible... and make your lives a unilateral hell for all eternity. And do twice as much toward all who you love. It took me many, many years to find you. Hah. That's wrong. I didn't find you. A kind man told me where to go. And I can't express the level of joy I'm feeling right now."

They had nothing to do--

I dont care, Sylas immediately interrupted. I genuinely dont give a shit. I dont care who here is innocent. I dont care who here is just an abused victim themselves who chose to escape into seclusion. One day, in the future, when I am a better man, I will care. And when that day comes, I'll carefully find the eight of you and whoever else is responsible, and selectively end you. But today... today I'm not a good man. I have no empathy, no sympathy, and no love in me left. Only anger. Only anger that had fueled me through the darkest of times. If I could have died, I would have. If gods allowed me, you would have never seen me. But they didn't let me die. And thus, today came."

... youre a coward, one of the men said. It seemed that they had realized there was no escape today. There is a story here, you must know that much.

Is there? Sylas turned toward him. Is there a story that can justify what had happened?

Yes--

No, theres not, he interrupted again. No matter what tale you concoct--even if you tell me that if you hadnt done that, the entirety of the cosmos would have ended... I would still tell you: should have let it end, then.

There is a higher purpose to things, the same man said. Reasons that write the story. We are not your enemies, Sylas. We truly are not. In fact, if you would listen, you would understand we could be the best friends you make on your path to crowning Prince Valen a King.

"... I'm fucked up," Sylas said after a momentary silence. "No, that's short-selling it. What I've done last night... Jesus, it's fucked up. It's one of the worst acts against humanity I think anyone's ever committed on an individual level. So, know that I tell you this from the place of absolute understanding: your mother should have killed you on the day you were born. All your mothers would have been better off heaving themselves into an active volcano than giving birth to any one of you. But, you're right. There's probably a story. Perhaps one that, if I were an objective god, I might even agree with. And, one day, I will hear it out. But I promise you, from the bottom of my heart, no matter what the story is, you eight, at least, will not survive this. Even if the gods themselves deign you innocent, it will all be the same. Today, though, I'm not interested in stories. I'm not interested in chatting. Not anymore, anyway. All I wanna do today is try to bring the vile in me to the surface and kill it, one corpse at a time. That's all, I'm afraid," stillness was brief, yet eternal. But it broke still, like a tossed clock. And chaos, as per nature, began to reign.