Chapter 4

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TW: Violence, Psychological stuff, Mentions of Losing Sanity, Injury, Eating Wierd Soup??

Y/N: Your Name

A/N: The cloak is for later in this chapter ;)
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It's so sudden and I'm too dazed. The flashing red and black, it consumes me. My brain is sludge and my thoughts merge into one big empty void. But, it's not peaceful. Is this what it's like to go insane?

Chaos, it's consuming me. I can't breathe and it hurts. EVERYTHING HURTS!

I try to cry out, but all that comes out is a faint echo.

"help..."

"Help.."

"Help!"

"Help!!"

My own scream consumes my ears and my eyes shoot open. I woke myself up... thank God.

I take in so much air that I practically choke on it. I can't breathe through my nose and my back stings too, but I can't care less. It's heaven to breathe again. I lean back and I am comforted by warm blankets and pillows. Wait... pillows? I was just in an alley.

I turn my head so fast, I look everywhere. I'm in a bed, a nice one with a red comforter and golden, soft sheets. I release my stress when I see my bag on the comforter next to me and my sword is putty next to me. I feel the stress building back up when the door handle wiggles.

"Hello?" A man's voice calls. He opens the door and it's a man. He looks kind of old, but it's probably because of the massive scar down the right side of his face. He is dressed in red and gold, that matches the rest of the room we're in. Suddenly, I'm aware of my ripped shirt and bandages. I feel exposed.

My sword is back on my hand and I slide off the bed with my bag over my shoulder. "Who are you? Where I am?"

"Is that any way to greet the man who saved your life?" He walked closer, I still stood guard, but tears force their way into my eyes.

"I was ready to die. I shouldn't be alive."

He sighed, "I don't care if you should or shouldn't be. I'm here to help you."

He hasn't killed me yet, so.. I let him help me. I try to get comfortable, slowly easing my guard. I lay back onto the bed.

He brings in soup full of mystery meat and some type of vegetable. I eat, almost in a ravenous manner. I didn't realize that I was hungry, so hungry.

"Do you have a home? Or a place to stay?" The man sat next to me on the bed while I ate. I tried to shoot away, but I couldn't without pain shooting in my back.

I stay pretty quiet, eating still. I shrug my shoulders. I don't want to tell a stranger that I'm homeless. Still, a evil and dark part of me wants to say that I don't. It just is the part of myself that has had enough, and my sanity... my sanity is slipping. That's where my logic has gone down the drain in trade of anger that runs deep into my very core and back up as a void that spreads through my body. The outrageous, horrible part of me wants that.

After a moment of silence, I give in to temptation, "No, I don't."

"You are welcome to stay here," the man says, but I can tell that he wants something. "However... I want to know your story. I, too, was left for dead."

I think about it. All of that trauma. I'm truly have some type of curse for bad luck. There is so much betrayal... my people, my friends, even the people of  other countries and cities. I could never find a home... ITS HORRIBLE!

HOW CAN I LIVE LIKE THAT?

HOW COULD ANYONE LIVE LIKE THAT WITHOUT GOING INSANE!?

I get myself under control. I hear a clink at the bottom of my soup bowl, it's empty, but a tear drop lays in the bottom. I didn't realize I was crying.

I sigh, and wipe the tears away, "Tell me your name, first."

"It's Silco."

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