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Deathrow's March
Chapter 49: The Blood

Chapter 49: The Blood

Fear. Screams. Blood. Agony. Death. Rivers of thick crimson drip through once proud cities as the world is fed by violence and bloodshed once more. It is beautiful. A glorious painting where each stroke is only made possible by the loss of a foolish life. A weak life. A life whose worth is the blood their body produces with each glorious beat of their heart. I once had a heart, and those down there don’t realise how lucky they are to have such an incredible creation buried deep in their chest. The Watcher reignited by soul with Fa, and my consciousness now extends through the eyes of each Dreg carrying individual. I can see them. I can feel the cold metal twisting and warping around my body, cutting deep into me – oh the pain is glorious. Pain – I feel alive. I have missed this so much; the ecstatic exquisite ending. They once called me the Dreg Torturer. The blood bather. Savra, a name from a long-forgotten history. A name was given to me by my own mind's eye. A name that I only discovered after my first kill. Savra, the meaning evades all but I. But I am here to tell you what it is. Dreg is what we call the hardened, crystalised and petrified souls of the impure. The more twisted, the more Dreg you create, and the stronger it is. My body is no mere dreg though, it is Savra – my namesake. It is pure. The purest soul possible. Enlightenment used to be about achieving a state of Savra, yet such thinking was lost to time. Ideals like friendship, love, and law distracted humanity from achieving Savra.

A pure soul can be seen in two ways – pure good and pure evil. A purely neutral, or chaotic, or any emotion would end one in a state of Savra, but those are far down the roots of a souls blossoming flower. Far as I know, there are only two beings of Savra, Fa Fumerunner and myself. Through a cruel twist, his soul turned from the truly evil Savra, to good. His evil deeds cannot be erased, but the soul is so good that he is stuck in a point of neutrality. Disgusting neutrality, and yet it is still in a state of Savra. All I need is for that damned curse to be lifted and he will return to me. To be good is to be stuck in a cage of deeds. One wrong move and you have committed an evil act, and thus your soul is forever stained by the sins of your past. Evil, however, while it can be stained by the good deeds that make up your life, and painting a white canvas black and red is far easier than painting a black one white.

Why is it important to become Savra, you ask? Well, I have torn your tongue out long ago, but I am sure that is what you are thinking. Such a question is grounds for punishment, yet I will answer it as a merciful god. Savra is superior to Dreg in every way. Dreg holds souls and turns them into hardened metal, but Savra is harder than any mere Dreg. When Dreg cuts, it cuts. When Savra cuts, it siphons the soul and feeds off it. It absorbs blood and nourishes the blade and metal, sharpening and hardening it endlessly. The knife known as Savra is so powerful and sharp only because of Fa’s relentless quest for bloodshed, and thus my memory of him is stored deep within my metal. I never understood what love was until I felt his hand around my hilt. Until I felt flesh, bone, and blood wrap around my senses as a banquet of ecstasy. When I first tasted his sweet, sweet blood to sate my thirst after a while without a kill – that is the man I am forever bound to. I care not about the world, and most certainly not about the mortals that inhabit it. I am only contained by my cursed love, and thus I have been unable to touch those who haven’t weaponized Dreg. If you have used Dreg weapons, I have free reign. This is your issue; I can feel the Dreg completely encasing you, encapsulating your life. How does it feel, knowing that your fortunes have only been made off the backs of the corrupt you sent to Deathrows march? How does it feel to know that the Dreg weapons you sold so adamantly, the money of which you used to silence those who would question the use of Dreg weapons, created your downfall? Not just yours, but humanities.

Funny, isn’t it – Dreg runs the world, and thus the world runs on the dregs of society. Poetic, I know. I should thank you though, if not for your adamant denial of Dreg weapons being an issue and silencing the message so quickly, there might have been a chance that Fa was proven right. That society can come together to save themselves. We did give you all every chance, but in the end, even though you all had everything you’d ever need, you chose the best outcome. Well, the best for me. The worst for you. I am inhabiting every monster that wishes to cause bloodshed. So many delightful souls trapped in Dreg, many so close to a state of Savra that these attacks might be the final push they need. Why not, I will tell you that there are still a few out there who are fighting back. A few that are managing to avoid death at the hands of my monsters – Oh, I can see it in your eyes. A spark of hope. Please, keep that up, I love that look. I adore it. While I can take your blood, your limbs, your money, and your life, hope is much harder to take. Humans are always so adamant until the very end, and it is hope that keeps them alive.

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The world was at 4,327,193 people before we started. There was a population spike after the years we left you all to enjoy a peaceful world. It is currently at 12,566 – no, 12,510. Wait, 12,497. Ah, well you get my drift. Oh, what is that – the hope is still there? Hmm, I thought it was crushed yet it returned. How delightful, that is exactly what I needed.

1,972.

Ah, there it is. I thought your body was quite dehydrated from the blood siphoning, and yet you still managed to cry. Impressive. I will keep you around for a while, I think. Oh, just so you know, there were 12,000 people stored away around the world being drained by my monsters. I just told almost all of them to kill them. Oh, you are mumbling something – you want to know why? Because I want to break you. You must feel special, huh? Ah, how could you feel special at that small number, your weapons killed millions, this must be fairly insulting. My apologies, this is the best I could do. You humans are just far too weak.

1,971.

I must thank you for getting schools to teach people how to use Dreg weapons, really made the culling process that much easier – hello? Your eyes are open but you aren’t responding anymore… ah, another one broke? That’s no fun.

1,970.

Time to find the next.

The time for bloodshed finally here,

Humans are ants again I fear,

Extinction is now near,

Blood gives life my dear,

In blood we peer,

Dreg appear,

Revere,

Cheer.

Savra’s bloodthirst never ends, but Fa still manages to keep many from harm's way. Alas, Savra is only counting those she can sense. There are many others who haven’t used a Dreg weapon before. Well, by many others I mean a good few thousand at most. Oh… oh how beautiful it is. How glorious my plans are. How wonderful everything has become. Finally, my revenge is unfolding so perfectly, and the best part is, it is a revenge that is completely and utterly justified. If Fa could, he would have stopped this all from happening, but he knows the truth. Humans are all evil, selfish, twisted souls that would drown their neighbors if it meant they could get a tiny bit more happiness. They would kill and torture just so a few people can experience a bit more joy. Kill thousands just to make their lives a little easier. I didn’t even need to do this, eventually, humans would destroy themselves if given enough time and peace, but this is a much more satisfying conclusion to the species. Also, not only would they have killed themselves, but the world in the process. Finally, the planes can recover from their incessant drilling and pruning. Finally, they can relax and breathe. For too long impurities were entering the plane of purity. For too long was the plane of pleasure used as a breeding ground for actions that cause others pain. Finally, the plane of potential does not need to worry about someone gaining an ability that will bring the worlds end. At long last, the plane of pastures can recover. Humans don’t realise it, but I have seen. I have watched as the world's Watcher. I know from my birth – the planes feel. They think. They are alive and can recover and sustain but this is far too much.

Tretriah, Chzmlz, Gan’la, and Fael are all creations by humans. It is but a figment of their imagination. For some reason, the uninhabitable spaces in between the planes became what they worshiped, what they called every person after. Their dreams are not given to them by any one of those four but by the planes for safety. They give people dreams about safety and push away terrors and monsters. They cradle humanity and the innocent creatures that make up the world. It blocks the unnatural from entering and yet, they know that humans have taken it too far now. They cry for their lost children, yet they have cried many times for the millions of other children humans tore away from them to begin with. Each insect crushed, each tree chopped down, and every weapon made purely for the gluttonous desire of humans to have it all and to be superior to each other, they missed it. They missed the cries of the planes they resided on. They tortured Wol’zarath until it was finally enough. It has been enough for far too long. Wol’zarath has been sick with a plague of villainous parasites that were once part of a perfect ecosystem, and now must be burnt out.

Life to death.

Dreg to Dreg.

May humanity revel in its downfall.

May Wol’zarath celebrate its renewal.