THE SLAVE’S HOMECOMING

WARNING: THE CHAPTER CONTAINS GORE.

Darius stood in a vast field, lush green grass, blooming flowers, a thick line of trees, and a mansion in the near distance, behind it, was a clear blue lake. He was uncertain but he figured it was late noon, due to the red hue painting the sky. He had been here before, this is a very familiar place in the northern wood of the humble town of Twin Lake. Where a friend lives.

Walking along the grass he noticed how light his body was, all of his senses were dull almost as if he wasn't inside his own body.

In the distance he watched as a huge monster goes on a rampage, consisted of woven roots and growing molds, the monster stood several feet tall. He had seen it before, it was the puppet of Ravana. The monster she controls to do her bidding, yes… much like Darius himself.

Just another tool for the mistress to use.

The monster pound onto the ground, making Darius's heart sink. Because knowing that the monster is killing a person, a close friend with a long-forgotten name.

Finally, he glance in the other direction, where he saw himself casually beating up Alexander. As he so-called tried to force him into submission. Of course, by now, he knew that this was a part of a plan. A sneaky plot between Alexander and Darius to keep Ravana's attention, while Rachelle search for Ravana's main body, which was hidden inside the forest.

While controlling her puppet, Ravana cannot move her own body. Making her a vulnerable target, unable to defend herself, unable to ask for help. Just a quick cut and she's gone.

Suddenly, an arrow whistled across the space. As it hit the monster, the arrow immediately exploded.

Ah… yes, the dramatic entrance of the excellent young marksman Brennan Wunderle.

As the impact created strong gushes of wind, his hair swayed along with the current. His black orbs sparkling with excitement as he pulled another arrow from the quiver. A young man filled with life, along with a strong desire for great adventures.

With a blink of an eye, the vision shifted. Darius now stood over Ravana's body, he was no longer watching from afar this time around. It was him who's hold the sword, its length embedded in Ravana's chest.

As betrayal flashed in her eyes, the light slowly disappeared in her stormy gray orbs. The life draining from her entire being.

As her body disintegrated just like any other monster, she spoke one last time with eyes filled with hate.

"How dare you!" she screams, her dried-up hand wrapped themselves around his throat.

Startled, the young man stepped back, unable to utter a single word.

Opening his eyes, Darius came face to face with the light of dawn. The sun finally appearing over the horizon as the light shed over the land. The dew gathered among the grass and leaves, a thin fog scattered into the wind.

The morning has come, and with it, his journey continues.

The road near the Dead Swamp was painfully familiar for Darius, here a few of his some-what good memories still live on. But of course, most of what he remembers is his life while serving Ravana at the tender age of ten.

Nostalgia filled his mind, while his heart was overrun by joy and the sense of home.

The wind blew, its warmth was calming.

Fresh with the scent of grass and daisies. But the tranquility vanished as quickly as it came, because as soon as the forest cleared. The castle where he used to live appeared, and along with it was all of the painful memories of his childhood.

The sword in his side grew colder against his skin, the weight is now heavier just like the feeling in his chest. As they draw closer, he couldn't help but tremble ever so slightly.

The path splits in two directions, one leading to the village, the other to the castle.

"One moment" Darius turned to the old man. "Here is fine," he said as the old man ordered the horses to take a halt.

"But your family lives in the village right?" the old man asked worriedly.

Darius nodded, "yes, but there is something I need to take care of" the young man jumped off of the carriage.

"Thank you for your help," he said bowing his head a little.

"It had been a pleasure traveling with you," the old man replied. "Then… if this is where we separate, I bid you farewell. Take care." Just like that Darius was left alone in the road, his hand tightly grasping the hilt of his sword.

Leave crunch as Darius walked along the path, his leather boots leaving marks on the ground. Finally reaching the doors of the castle, the young man could not help but shiver. He had come so far yet his fear for his mistress clings to him like carpet stain.

Standing in front of the wooden double doors, he gripped the handles and pushed them open. A musky scent and a cloud of dust greeting him. As if the castle had missed the young slave of the witch of the Dead Swamp.

Staring at the dark castle with only a fraction of light shedding from the open door, Darius could feel his chest sink. All those times he was tortured, whipped, and starved, makes his leg shook.

The child inside of his wishing to run away.

Biting his lower lips, Darius entered the castle. Upon the closing of the doors, he seemed to have traveled back in time. The cold air, the thick dust in the air, the dreadful atmosphere, the eerie silence, the emptiness, and the suffocating feeling in each breathe- all of it remained. Only this time it was much worse than before.

His footsteps echoed along the barren halls, his feet taking him to the empty throne room of Ravana. The once thick luscious vines of poison ivy covering the throne have now withered. Dried-up and dead, just like the person who once sits there.

Briskly walking in the direction of the throne, Darius drew his weapon. The subterranean sword gleaming at the slightest hint of light. With all of the strength, he could muster, the purple-eyed man stabbed the sword in the throne. The metal now embedded at the stone, a significant crack appearing in the throne's surface.

"This is where it ends Ravana, I will no longer be your slave." He stated before turning to leave, behind him was the life he once lived.

As Darius walk in the streets of the village, he couldn't help but feel the same old dread he often would have.

Under the burning scrutiny of the people, he walked with his head down. His eyes filled with sorrow, avoiding the people's disgusted gaze.

What was he expecting? A warm welcome? Festivities? Cheering?

He was the witch's slave, he will never be accepted in this village… no matter how hard he tries.

"Tsk seems that he's still alive," a man from a fruit stand said out of spite.

"Why aren't the church doing anything about that family" a woman whispered, yet her voice was loud and clear.

"They should just die," another spat.

"Hush if he hears you… the witch might spread chaos in the village again" a woman said out of fear, her hands trembling as she spoke.

Darius could only bit his lower lip, after all of the things he had done. Nothing truly changed.

He remained known as the slave of Ravana, the lowly vermin that serves the Dead Swamp's witch.

He clutched his hands, anger boiling inside his chest. All of these people speak as if they know everything; as if it was easy to be the witch's slave. They talk as if he wanted this to happen.

Little did they know he hates being Ravana's slave, he hates his fate, he hates doing all of this dirty works.

These people make him sick, anger, and disgusted… so easy to judge. So easy to criticize.

Finally, he reached the outskirts of the village.

In the distance the familiar shack stands, the poorly built house he calls home. The badly cut decaying wood, the loosely tight rope that hardly stands the strong summer breeze, and the overgrown grass around the shack… yes, this is it…

He's finally home.

Walking up the shack, Darius could him his heart thump loudly in his chest. The excitement and joy mixing together, making him sprint.

He cannot wait to tell his parents… tell them… that they are finally free.

Free from their cruel fate, free from Ravana… they will never be slaves again.

Finally, they can live in peace.

In front of the shack, he stopped.

His eyes went wide, his heart drop in his stomach, his breathing was heavy and tight.

There was blood in the side of the door, the crimson liquid dripping ever so slowly.

"What happened…?" was the only question he could ask.

Opening the door he was greeted by the scent of blood, the metallic smell was so strong he could taste it in his tongue.

Blood was splattered everywhere, in the middle of the room there lay his father's dismembered body. His insides hanging from his stomach, his legs and arms are nowhere to be seen. The mark of claws is evident in his face, chest, and neck.

Darius fell on his knees, his entire body trembling.

The young man could only embrace himself, this is not how it was supposed to be…

Not when they are finally free…

With tear-filled eyes, Darius could only let out a scream so loud it must have been heard by the people in the village.

When hope arises, the devil will find its way to take it all away.