As last scream fades into the air, I’m left standing among piles of corpses and body parts, facing the last remaining of the bandits, my mother’s murderer. The man’s eyes are wide and vacant. He is holding his sword, the very sword I remember my mother’s lifeless body being skewered on. The man is not moving a muscle, the look in his eyes that of a man that has seen a lifetime of horrors, even though my attack only lasted about 15 minutes.

I need to bring him back to the present. I place my blade along his right cheek and slowly drag by blade along his face, opening up a clean laceration that immediately begins flowing blood to my blade. The man, eyes still staring off in the distance, raises his left hand and runs it through the wound, bringing his hand back and looking at it, as the blood slowly flows off his fingertips.

“You” The bandit leader says in a whisper.

“You should have made sure I died in that Labyrinth.”

“This cannot be possible. Nobody survives that place.” The man says a little louder as he repeatedly runs his hand through the wound on his face to watch the blood flow off his fingers only to be consumed by my blade.

“You left me there to die, but my drive to kill you pushed me to survive.”

“Nobody survives that place, especially not a beaten little girl like you! How can you possibly be here? You don’t even look any older than when we dumped you in the depths?!” The man says finally bringing his eyes up to meet mine.

I drop my illusion and the bruises and blood on my skin vanish. My height increases by a foot, and my bust fills out a bit as I am now in the midst of puberty. I remain clothed in clean versions of the simple clothes I was wearing when this man took me from my home.

“I faced untold horrors in that place. I faced death more times than I could count. But, I fought on. Many encounters left be broken and bleeding, but I fought on. I faced worse things than the horrors you know of in that place. I even faced the Gods themselves. In my quest to become stronger and more powerful, I killed monsters by the hundreds of thousands. I killed so many that the Gods themselves were angered by my slaughter. I challenged them as they came, we crossed blades, and I brought them to their knees!”

The energy in the courtyard begins to thicken as my rage and power begin bubbling to the surface. My silver fur begins crawling up my body from my feet, covering everything except my head, which I keep human for now. 8 silver tails erupt from behind me, the purple accents on my tails and body lighting up and crackling with energy.

“How is this possible? You are not that girl!”

“When I crossed blades with the gods, I defeated them one by one. With each one that fell, I took their weapons!”

I hold up the Muramasa and wave it in front of his face, the blood from his facial laceration still streaming blood to it.

“I took their armor!”

My silver samurai armor begins appearing one piece at a time.

“I TOOK THEIR POWER!!”

My kabuto helmet appears on my head, my face taking the shape of the Kitsune. The silver whiskers erupt from my face and the purple accents on my armor light up and explode with power, purple lightning cracking all over.

The bandit leader just stares at what he is seeing. His eyes wide with tears forming in them, his color pale, sweat is streaming down his face. He seems lost like he was moments ago. I swift slash opens up another wound on the left side of his face.

“Raise your sword and face me!” I yell at the murderer.

He doesn’t respond quickly enough for my liking. Suddenly a dozen slices appear on his body. The man screams out in pain as his brain is forced back to reality. The man looks at his sword and back at me. 20 more slices appear, a scream echoes off the buildings.

He takes a swing at me, but it’s painfully slow. Several more slices appear on his body. He launches several more attacks and they find nothing but air. To him, it appears as though I haven’t moved from where I am standing; my speed is leagues beyond anything he could comprehend.

Several more swings at me and a dozen or two more slices appear. I swear this man is so weak. The first goblin I faced back on the first floor of the Labyrinth, the one with the spear, would have been a serious challenge for this guy.

The man’s brain seemed to have a moment of clarity and logic, and he turns around to run away from me, only to find me standing right there, my sword pointed at his head.

“You DARE run away from me?!” I scream, rage filling my being.

Suddenly, over 100 slices appear at the same time, shredding his clothes and his skin, as the man screams out his soul. He swiftly passes out face first into the dirt. I take this time to heal his wounds before he succumbs to them. He shortly wakes up, his hands flying around his body, feeling the wounds that are suddenly not there anymore.

“Get up! Let’s begin again!” I say with a hint of annoyance in my voice.

The man doesn’t move at first, as he is just staring at me, his eyes filled with fear. Suddenly 20 cuts appear on the man’s body. These cuts are deeper than the last ones, which were only shallow skin cuts. Now, I am slicing through muscle, the pain is immense, and he screams out in pain.

“Get the fuck up! Pick up your sword and face me!!”

Several more slices and he picks up his sword and struggles to get to his feet. He swings the sword at me, but it was absolutely pathetic. A toddler could put more effort into an attack. I slice him up dozens of times until he falls to the floor and stops responding to my slices. I heal him once again in his unconscious state. His eyes fly open, and he backs away from me.

“H… How are you so strong?!” The man says his voice shaky as he realizes I can keep this up for as long as I want, in an endless cycle of torture and pain.

“You think this is my full power?!” I say with a chuckle.

I ramp up my power and the ground begins to tremble slightly, the electricity from my purple accents cracks the air loudly.

“What you see is less than 1% of my power. You have no fucking clue what real power is!”

I crank my power up to 5%. The tremors become violent; the man has to brace himself against the shaking. The stone walls of the buildings begin to crack and crumble, some buildings partially collapsing.

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I crank up my power to 10%. The tremors become frightfully violent. Any buildings that are still standing are swiftly reduced to piles of rubble. The lightning emitted from my body actually splits the very ground where they strike.

I tone down my power to the way I was before. The murderer in front of me shaking from fright of what he sees. For around 3 feet around me, the very air is distorted from my power, like a mirage created by heat rising from the ground.

“Now, GET UP!”

The man is trembling violently with fear. He loses all control over his bodily functions as piss streams down his legs and onto the dirt floor.

“How pathetic! If you can’t control yourself then you don’t deserve it!”

A swift slice and his manhood falls to the dirt floor. The man lets out a soul crushing scream as he stares at his most prized possession lying in the dirt. Through glossed over eyes, he reaches a hand toward the fallen sex organs, only to find that arm falling to the dirt, lying next to them. In his traumatized state, he reaches for his fallen arm with his other hand, only to find that falling to the dirt as well.

The man begins shaking more violently, his eyes becoming more vacant. My senses pick up the sound of his heart beat; it is becoming more and more erratic, threatening to go into a lethal arrhythmia. I knock the man unconscious before he goes into cardiac arrest, then I heal his wounds and wait for him to regain consciousness.

“Pick up your sword.” I say flatly as he regains consciousness.

The man just shakes his head. I begin slicing him more and more.

“I said GET THE FUCK UP AND FIGHT ME!”

“N… No” the man chokes out.

“So be it!” I say coldly.

I begin hacking away at the defenseless man. I slice him and slash him over and over, healing him each time before he dies. I spend a few hours just hacking him up, severing limbs and spilling his guts onto the floor. Each time I heal him like new before beginning again. My malice and rage are fueling my assault on the man. No monster dares to get close to the compound as malice and rage emanates from the compound in waves the size of a tsunami.

“Please… Please! Please stop!” the man cries out after I healed him for the latest time.

Tears are streaming down the man’s face, snot running from his nose. He is begging me now, begging me to stop the pain. That’s not enough for me. He is only begging to make the pain stop. He isn’t begging me to kill him yet. He still has a will to live. The man has his arms up in defense, as if that will stop my legendary weapon. He soon finds his arms once again on the floor. I walk up to the man and grab him by his hair.

“You have no clue what horrors I am capable of!” I say to the man’s face as I slice his head clean off his body.

I turn his head so he is looking at his body, his eyes going wide with shock.

“You are going to die in the next few seconds” I whisper into his ear.

I watch as his eyes roll backward in his head, and he dies. I toss the head down next to the body with a laugh.

“Resurrection!”

A bright white envelops the man’s body, mending the severed limbs and head. Color flows back into the corpse, and life is breathed back into the wicked man. His eyes shoot open, his hands flying to his neck to make sure it’s intact. I walk up to the man and grab him by his hair again. I slice his head clean off once again, and I bring the severed head up to my eyes.

“Oh yes, that was not a dream.” I laugh as I again watch the man die, and once again toss the head back to the body it came from.

“Resurrection!”

The man’s body is restored and life fills his corpse once again. His eyes shoot open and he backs away from me. I walk over to the man and he raises his arms in a feeble attempt to defend himself against me. Soon, he finds his arms lying in the dirt, and no way to defend against what is coming.

I place my blade vertically against his face and apply pressure. The blade begins slicing into the man’s face, splitting his nose, lips and forehead in two. A bit more pressure and the blade slices through the man’s skull like butter, his brain putting up no resistance to the blade as it is sliced in two. The man’s head flops to either side as it is completely split, the two halves of his brain flopping out of the cranial cavity.

“Resurrection!”

The man slowly opens his eyes again, seemingly having expected to come back again.

“You have died three times now. Even I don’t actually know what it is like to die. How was it?”

The man just looks at me with an expression of horror as he realizes that not even death is a way to escape my wrath. I sheathe my Muramasa, and change my appearance to the little 5 year old girl I was when he took me, dressed in the very same clothes. I walk over to his fallen sword. I pick up the sword and examine it. It’s just a common greatsword, nothing special about it. Sadness flashes across my face thinking of how my mother was killed by a piece of shit like this. Part of me wishes she could have at least been killed by a legendary weapon. At least then there would have been some honor in her death! Instead, she was killed by a piece of shit sword, wielded by a piece of shit weakling.

I walk over to the man and plunge the sword straight through his chest. I let go of the handle and take a step back.

“You killed my mother with that sword. It’s only fitting you die exactly how you killed her.”

The man reaches up and grabs the sword that’s sticking out of his chest. He doesn’t have any strength to pull it out, so he just looks at it, his eyes glossing over. Soon he falls over and dies. I step over to the corpse and pull the sword from his chest.

“Resurrection!”

The man is restored once again and his eyes open and focus again on me.

“No... No, that’s not how you did it? Did you?”

I walk behind the man and pull him to his feet by his hair. I then plunge the sword through his back, the blade erupting from his chest, ribs sundered and blood erupting everywhere.

“There we go. THIS is how you did it!” I say as I wiggle the blade a little causing blood to spurt from the wound and blood to sputter from the man’s mouth. .

I hold the blade steady as the man twitches and dies. I stand there holding his corpse impaled on the blade.

“Yes, this is EXACTLY how you did it.” I say coldly to the corpse.

I pull out the blade while holding the corpse up by its hair. I resurrect the body and as soon as the degenerate opens his eyes, I plunge the sword into his back once more; the blade once again erupts from his chest in a shower of blood. The murderer coughs and sputters as blood flows from his mouth. I savor in his death once again.

I repeat this process of killing him exactly how he killed my mother, and resurrecting him over and over again. He dies in this manner dozens of times. Over the next several hours, I kill my mother’s murderer in every fashion conceivable. I ripped out his heart and made him hold it until he died, which unfortunately wasn’t as entertaining as the guy I did that too earlier. I torched him like the first man I killed tonight. That one was especially painful, and it took him a while to recover from that trauma. I even used my lightning to electrocute him. This was rather gross as his eyes literally exploded as the fluid inside boiled immediately, while he was still alive. I froze him solid and shattered him into thousands of pieces. I carved him up piece by piece until he died. I shapeshifted into Cujo and mauled him to death. I even shapeshifted into one of the massive Ogres from the third floor, and I stomped him to death. Wasn’t sure my resurrection would work on that, as he was literally reduced to a stain on the floor, but it worked!

Unfortunately the sun has breached the horizon, and a new day has begun. I am no longer taking any pleasure in this pathetic man’s pain. I spent the last 8-10 hours torturing and slaughtering this man in every conceivable way. Considering I was beaten and tortured for over 5 years, you would think 8-10 hours wouldn’t be enough time, but it is. My vengeance has been realized, and the Kitsune was right, this didn’t satisfy me. Well, it did as I had lots of fun, but it didn’t fill the hole inside me as I thought it would. I still have questions that remain unanswered. Why am I even here in this world? Why was I made to suffer so much? What am I even supposed to do now?! Can I even get back home?

I put my sword belonging to my mother’s killer into one of my bags, as a trophy for what I have done here today. I turn back to my mother’s killer, recently revived and coming to, and I draw my Muramasa. As soon as he regains consciousness, I slice off his arms and legs, tossing them into the piles of body parts belonging to his men. I then healed the wounds with Lesser Heals as Greater Heals would actually restore the limbs, and that’s not what I want.

I kneel down next to the limbless pile of shit and speak my last words to this man. At least my voice will be the last voice he will ever hear, and my face will be the last face he will ever see. I look into his eyes, eyes filled with tears that run down his face.

“It’s a beautiful day is it not? Today will be the last you spend alive. There is no more coming back this time. You will lie here, with the remains of your men, and you will wait for monsters to come from the forest to feast on what remains of your men, and you. Use this remaining time to reflect on your life, how you lived it, and how you treated others. If the Gods do decide to grant you another life, I hope you chose a different path. If you don’t I will be seeing you again.”

I stand up and walk away from the crying man, and I head to the forest. My mission here is complete. It is time to find my mother.