046/365

The reason was treason...

----------------------------------------------------------------------

His loyalty is questionable. He’s a shifty-eyed bugger and those are the types who end up trying to do me in. Jealousy is a real thing, you know. A living breathing organism that feeds off insecurity and self-doubt until the massive weight of its consumption crushes its host flat. A burden too heavy to bear. That explains his slender frame as of late. I recall him being a lot heftier a few weeks ago. When, oh when, did he fall prey to this illness?!

How I hate it when they must go this way! I liked him too! I really did. My meals always brought in with a skip and a hopeful smile. “Morning Miss Sunshine, got you something good today,” he would say as he carefully placed the tray in front of me. I don’t have much of an appetite and he knows it, but he tries anyway. No one wants a weak leader. A sensitive little fellow, I reassure him that God granted me these powers for a reason. That an immortal does not need trivial things such as food to survive.

He shifts his feet nervously, most likely out of embarrassment for his ignorance, “Right…right. Well I’m just here to make sure you’re ok. If you need anything just let me know”.

I touch my hand to his chest, the sparks of magic flickering off my fingertips. He gasps at the impact.

“No contact!” Another one of my guard yells out from the other side of the room ready to dash to my defense if this mortal so much as blows in my direction.

“At ease,” I withdraw my hand folding my arms in front of me instead. “There are no worries to be had here”.

The protector stands down and resumes his position in the corner overseeing all interactions between myself and anyone who walks through that door.

The man stares at me shell shocked. He knows that I felt it. I can tell by the terrified look in his eyes. The way they’re so clearly pleading with me for forgiveness. I hold my gaze until he breaks from the pressure. “Umm are you sure you don’t want any?” He motions at the dish and proceeds to pick up the lid revealing a platter of carcass and rice, the offensive stench wafting up and attacking my olfactory nerves. The betrayal slams into me like a boulder, triggering the memories of brutality buried deep.

He’s fairly new so I’ve been practicing patience, but as the lifeless form of an innocent being lies freshly slaughtered upon the table taunting my devout faith I find myself boiling over with rage. I don’t feast from the flesh of God’s creatures! Such acts are reserved for the unholy; the savage demonic entities that plague this Earth! I do no such thing! How dare he?! He mocks me in the face of my lord, attempting to discredit my merit by tempting me with this filth!

“You must apologize at once!” I am filled with the passion of my savior. His force guiding me to enforce repentance. No one commits sin and gets away without facing the consequences. Every vice has its price and I’m supposed to make sure the tab gets paid. I unfold my arms revealing the sacred sword bestowed upon me for redemption. Suddenly aware of his impending fate the man throws his hands up feebly. Caught off guard, the protector leaps into action milliseconds too late.

The tip of the sword is thrusted skillfully into his carotid causing an explosion of fluid, splattering all over me and painting the walls red. His gore is warm as it slides down my face caressing my lip before it drips onto the dirty floor. His essence is salty as expected, putrid and impure. I spit vehemently onto his seizing body. A ton of bricks smashes me into the table and I’m out like a lightbulb, nothing but stars and darkness line my vision.

I come to as I’m being carried out of the room by guards on a stretcher, held securely in place by thick white straps. Safety first of course. Their mumbles disturb my sleep state. They’re talking in frantic whispers jostling for one another’s attention, their rants barely audible over the awful ringing in my ears.

“We’re fucking screwed man! How the hell do we explain this one?!”

“Relax, how is this our fault? We can’t control her”.

“Actually, we can! That’s exactly what they hired us for!”

“How was I supposed to know she was going to stab him in the goddamn throat?”

“How the fuck did she get her hands on a pen is the real question!”

They regard their fallen colleague with an air of annoyance, “Fucking newbies man. Do you know how much trouble we could get into for this shit!?”

I’m tickled by their fear and respect. I giggle uncontrollably. “No worries gentlemen, all will be well. The boss approves”.

“That’ll be all from you” one of them scolds as the needle point is pushed into a vein. Everything comes to a slow dull throb as the warmth courses through me, stopping when it reaches my head giving me that familiar fuzzy feeling.

I’m flattered by their tenderness. They just want me to rest after a job well done. I happily oblige.