estdeus_innobis | Early Morning of Monday, September Seventh

My eyes snap open. A dream. It was only a dream. The dark ceiling staring back at me is my own. There is no fire, no warm body, nothing. But I feel a coldness over me and a weight on my chest. I fumble and pull the familiar package from my chest. I sit up, disgusting thick liquid oozing into my lap. Subconsciously I shudder as I stare at the package.

My flail. My cat'o' nine. My psalter. I have sinned. Against my god perhaps, against myself mayhap, but against Kate most certainly and it is that that causes my soul to cry out in pain.

I rise and clean myself, then dress in my robes and go outside. To my spot. I heave a sigh as I kneel, placing the bundle on the grass. My hands rise slowly to cover my face and run through my hair.

I have never done such things. Had such dreams. Felt...It was as if she were there, but not her. Someone. But no, I have no one to blame but myself for this.

I don't look at the psalter. It has nothing to do with this. God has no part in what I have become. The robe slides from my shoulders and I begin to swing the flail.

I will not make a sound. I deserve no release.

[CLOSED.]