Jack steered his carriage towards the burning village before him and the smell of burnt flesh and wood filled his nostrils as he approached. He couldn’t help but watch the carnage before him, as the very definition of death and destruction wandered through the village. Yet he felt no fear, by now he was desensitised to it all, having seen it so many times before. He wasn’t proud of what he had become or what he was doing, and sometimes the guilt felt as though it was drowning him... but it had to be done, he had to do this so that he could someday finally go back home. He used to be someone who would throw up at the sight of blood, but now he couldn’t even look at his own hands without seeing them covered in it.
In the village square before him he watched a giant clad in ashen black armour crush a young man under his foot, like he once had done to the cockroaches in his family’s barn. His entire upper body splattered against the dirt, the crunching sound of his ribs being broken drowned out by the blood curdling screams of nearby villagers. The giant marched forward, unphased by the arrows bouncing off of its body as if they were toys tossed by children. It picked up one of the guards who were desperately attempting to defend the villagers and threw the man across the entire village centre. Glass shattered as the man flew back first through the window of a small tailor shop more than 10 metres away.
To his left a one armed giant swung a sword taller than the average man, which cut through an elderly woman as if she was made out of butter. Blood sprayed everywhere, covering what Jack would assume was the woman’s family in her innards. All while several of his fellow cultists were lighting houses on fire. The flames whirled around them, in a sort of vicious dance which threatened to devour anyone who came too close. The bolts that flew out of their hands burned wood and flesh alike, without concern for who or what was caught in the crossfire.
Amidst the chaos Jack parked his carriage and tied the horses to an iron lantern post surrounded by piles of burning bodies. The two carriages behind him had then done the same, unloading even more of his fellow cultists to aid in the pillaging of the village. With a respectful nod to his superiors he then continued following the orders he had been issued. With hurried steps he rushed over to an injured, elderly man who was hopelessly crawling away from the third and final giant, who had moments ago demolished the entire front wall of his home. Several large wooden splinters poked out of his leg which was bleeding excessively. “Please, no.” The man groaned as Jack grabbed hold of his bloodstained shirt, his voice filled with fear. Without responding Jack dragged the man towards his carriage, and the man’s blood stained the pale skin on his hands. “No, no, please… don’t do this.” The man pleaded in a pained voice as Jack lifted the man to the best of his ability and threw him into the large barred cage which was the back of his carriage. Reinforced wooden walls prevented anyone from seeing in or out, leaving the elderly man trapped in darkness as Jack slammed the door closed and locked it with the large iron key in his pocket.
He then hurried to the burning tavern on his left, where a young girl in her early teens was hiding alongside her younger brother underneath a large wooden table. The heat from the burning flesh and buildings was quickly getting to him, as sweat made his clothes stick to his body in uncomfortable ways, and the warm, hooded robe which hid his freckled face and brown locks felt as though it was strangling him. Once he arrived by the table he reached his hand underneath and grabbed the arm of the girl, and her scream felt as though it would make his ears bleed. After pushing the table to the side he grabbed the boy with his other hand, and promptly dragged them both towards the carriage. While the boy merely cried, the girl yelled, struggled and even dug her teeth into his arm as if she was some kind of rabid dog. He let go of her arm as the stinging pain of her teeth piercing his skin overwhelmed him, and pushed her to the ground. Grabbing her hair near her scalp, he felt the warm blood run down his arm and into her hair, as the pain sent a shock of adrenaline through his body.
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The girl kept screaming though it seemed to be more so filled with anger and grief rather than fear or pain. She purposefully stomped on his feet, kicked at his legs and flailed her arms around in the hopes of breaking free. But the strength of a young girl was no match for that of an adult man, and Jack managed to lock the children into the carriage despite the bruises he’d sustained from the girl's struggling.
Looking around at the carnage around him he searched for his next target. At that moment a young man and his elderly father had stormed out of the tailoring shop at the other side of the village centre. Their expressions filled with shock and terror as one of the giants marched in their direction. The man grabbed his father and ran towards one of the back alley streets nearby, but it was already too late. He could hear the woman near him giggle as the bolt of flames she had fired hit the man's shoulder, and the man cried out in pain as the flames torched his shirt and scorched his skin.
As the man fell to the ground the father’s expression changed from terror to sheer panic, and he stumbled into the wall of the building next to him. The father looked as though he had lost all of his senses, and a wet stain gradually grew around his groin as fear made him lose control of his bladder. Jack watched as the man reached out his hand towards his father, pleading for help before his fate was sealed, only to be left on the dusty bloodstained ground as the father ran. For a moment Jack couldn’t help but see his own father before him, as the last words his father had said to him echoed in his head. “If I ever see your face again, I won’t call the guards, I’ll kill you myself.”
His heart ached as he was torn back to reality by the rumbling sound of the burning home next to him collapsing, and the screams of the people trapped inside. With hurried steps he walked up to the wounded man and grabbed the remains of his shirt as he began dragging him towards the carriage. “I’m sorry…” He whispered as the man before him sobbed, as the feeling of being abandoned by those you call family was something he knew all too well, and he wouldn’t wish such a fate upon anyone.
Yet here he stood, part of the cause for all these broken homes… and all these deaths. The guilt tore at his heartstrings and for a moment he wanted to cry. At his core he knew it, that this path he had chosen had made him a monster. Even so, if it would allow him to go home and mend the broken bonds with his family, then he would not only become a monster, he would help free the monster he now served from its prison.