The Reminiscence of a Psychopath

The first mission to kill something was completed, and I felt like I had drunk salt water, for I was thirsty for more. All I did was an easy task, and I grew so much by leaps and bounds. Bertha, an annoying fly, had disappeared, and the knights had found the tracks of the "monster" and seen all the blood; they had just concluded the investigation there and said it was the monsters of the forest.

The death of one errand maid wasn't something that required a lot of energy. She was a commoner, and the droves beyond the mansion walls could find those. Plus, she had gone into the monster-infested forest by herself to get water from a lake that servants were banned from using. It was really all plain and simple to the uncaring onlookers.

So, today, I decided to go find a monster to kill. I brought my trusty cleaver, which I endearingly called Rusty, along with plenty of pointy rocks. The trails leading to the lakes never had any monsters and were a safe haven for reasons unknown. Knowing this, I decided to take a different path according to the sign that read: "DANGER MONSTER TERRITORY."

I am unsure why monsters were on the Marquis' land, but I don't have anyone to ask. Furthermore, none of the gossip or information I gleaned from the servants ever had anything to do with monsters that dwelt in its trees. I skipped along the dirt path and looked up at the smiling sun that shone down on the mossy forest and listened to the wind whisper to the pine trees, making them sway with laughter.

"It's quite a beautiful day." It became even more excellent when I found the tracks of a monster leading off the path and into a clearing. I did not really have a plan on how to kill a monster, but bashing it over the head with a cleaver or my metal-like magic armor ought to do the job.

As quietly as possible, I stalked through the tall grass that grew sporadically near the clearing. Parting the pale green, itchy blades, I peeked through, and digging in the mud was a boar-looking creature.

It was bigger than a boar on earth, and its whole body seemed to have been dipped in tar; its pelt was as black as coal. Dripping from large horizontal cuts that were slashed over its back were maggots as big as a thumb, wriggling, squirming, and plopping onto the earthen floor. A hunting dagger was stuck in its right eye, but its tusk held the trophy of a torn-off limb. I squinted, and the sun moved over to reveal that the bloody stump was the leftover hand of its opponent.

Then, I surprised myself and thought for a moment. Raising my right arm, I threw a rock in front of me; the boar raised its head cautiously and started to make its way closer, sniffing the air.

Just as it got an arms-width away, it figured something was wrong. Before it could act on this, I threw another rock behind it, making it jolt its head to the side. I took this opportunity to leap out and, with all my weight, strike my cleaver into its remaining eye.

It let out a familiar squeal of pain; I felt a little nostalgic; it sounded similar to the ones I made back at the house. Hmmmm, maybe I deserved the beatings if I sounded as annoying as that.

Jumping back, cleaver in hand, the boar stampeded towards the sound of my feet. Since it was blind, it was easy to slide to the side and hack at its neck as it stampeded past. Blankly, I stared at my kitchen blade. It stunk of rotting flesh, and a maggot's head oogled up at me.

The boar's tenacity was to be praised cause, after all that, it still charged ahead, trusting its instincts to find where I was. It became a game of charge, dodge, attack. One headbutt from its thick, pointy tusks and my head would be the next trophy thing it wore.

Ah! Why didn't I think of it? It had pointy tusks! Looking around, I ran to a good-sized tree and started climbing, making a lot of noise as I did. The boar, undaunted by the whoppings I had given it, charged towards the noise as his eyesight had become very blurry, his whole weight behind the charge met with hardwood. He tried to pull out of the bark, but his mighty tusks held strong. Taking this chance, I leaped from the tree, holding Rusty in both hands.

The wind whistled with me for a few seconds, and I brought the blade down on its neck with a squelch. I guess the little whittling I did really wore down its thick neck, for its body pitched to the side, gushing blood while the head stayed stuck in the wood. The only thing keeping it together was the stringy skin and muscle that were dyed red with blood.

[Bling Blong, iffy monster, but killing is killing. +1 level]

I swung my arm around and felt energized and stronger; how much, I wasn't sure, but this fight was quite an accomplishment. It was a bit hard to use body hardening on a monster with such tough skin.

Maybe I needed a sword. But hey. Now that I think about it, who's arm is that? I wondered. Are there poachers in the marquis' forest? That's odd. I thought everyone thought this place was haunted. The sound of buzzing flies broke my contemplation, and I realized I should skedaddle before the boar's carcass alerted a bigger monster. But, looking at it now, the boar seemed just like a bigger version of a boar that someone dyed black. He doesn't seem like a monster, but who knows?

Mission accomplished. I started to head back to the castle, but then I looked down at my filthy, maggot-smelling clothes and decided to go to the nearest lake to wash up. On my way, the system popped up with a new notification.

[New quest: kill five REAL monsters +1 level]

Huh? I scratched my head. That boar wasn't a "real" monster? What is then? I guess I'll have to scout around more in the monster part of the woods.

As I neared the clear waters of the mystical lake, I heard a sound. Immediately, I was on high alert and jumped into the first bush I saw. Maybe I wasn't the master of stealth cause the sound got louder; I peered around me, trying to track the location of the sound.

Maybe this could be the REAL monster the system is telling me about… But, so near the lakes? However, after listening a little longer, I was both disappointed and relieved when I realized what the sound was. It was the sound of a human cry.

Slowly, I crept out of the scratchy bush, and a few hundred feet away on the other side of the lake was a child. Well, it looked to be around my age. Scrunched in a ball, shaking and sniffing out snot. Looking at him, he had light blonde hair and red eyes that looked even redder after all his sobbing. Additionally, he had a high-quality leather garment splattered with blood.

Ah, well, that's sad. I guess I'd better light it out before he sees me.

"I-I can see you." The sad, high-strung voice of the boy was sprinkled with sporadic hiccups from his multitude of tears.

I froze in place and turned to look at him.

"Finally, I person! I demand you take me out of this place. My friends tricked me into going to this haunted place. My guard is dead, and I need another one. You will do, hurry and assist me. I am royalty, and as your next king-to-be, order you!"

The kid must be crazy, I thought; I shook my head at him and, seeing as he posed no threat, started to wash the blood out of my clothes. I needed to get back to the castle before sundown. I didn't want any trouble. The kid kept whining and pouting until my ears perked up when he said, "I knew coming through that hole in the wall was no use; I should have just demanded it. I am the king-to-be yada yada-."

Now, that was interesting. A doggy hole? Thinking was never my strong suit, so I am not sure that it was a smart choice, but I said, "I'll help you escape but not to the castle; show me the way you entered." It had been so long since I last spoke to another living person that my words came out halting and unfamiliar.

"Finally!" The kid said, almost wailing. As I followed him deeper into the woods he glanced at my friend rusty. "Will that pitiful kitchen tool do anything if we meet actual monsters?" He nagged. I ignored his comment and kept marching forward. Then, under his breath, he said, "Well, it doesn't matter; this grubby servant will do good as a meat shield if nothing else."

I am not sure were he went the first time around, but since the direction he took now was near the lakes, we didn't encounter any monsters.

After a good thirty minutes of wandering and stumbling, we reached a hole camouflaged in the foliage. It was kind of impressive how he remembered where it was. This was a good bit of information.

The kid eyed me suspiciously, like I would stab him in the back, not remembering I could have done it this whole time, and started wriggling through the crumbling hole of stone.

"Where does that lead," I said.

"The town square, peasant," came a muffled, strained reply as he harrumfed and wriggled his way out. Then he disappeared to the other side.

This kid really needs to exercise more, I thought.

On my way back, I sprinted; the sun had almost set, and long shadows settled on the grassy floor, growing longer and longer. When I got to the castle, the servants were in a frenzy, trying to find someone. I tried my best not to be seen, but to no avail.

I was caught by the big hands of the head butler and practically dragged to the big room where I had first met the marquis. This must have been very serious if the head of the servants had been searching for me.

What met my poor eyes were dozens of bodies strewn across the floor like ketchup squeezed too hard and popped everywhere.

The smell of metallic blood was in every corner of the room. Large slashes across the corpses I identified to be those of servants poured fountains of blood. Their eyes had lost their shine and were wide with terror that stuck to them even after their deaths. In the middle of it all was the marquis, who was squeezing the neck of a sobbing servant; seeing me enter, he thrust the servant like a rag doll on the floor and stomped towards me.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN," he roared, glancing around the room. Everyone in it was dead or dying, so he sent me flying to the luxurious carpet with a loud smack. Even after all the training I had been doing, the strength behind those meaty fingers was enough to send me with almost no effort into a crumpled ball.

Grabbing my hair with his bloody fist and staining the silver strands crimson, he pulled me close, only inches from his face, "You're supposed to stay put and do what you're told; as someone in this house, that is all that's demanded of you, and yet you can't even do that."

I remembered that today was the day my blood was supposed to be taken for his child, and I realized that's why he had gone crazy. Trying to find his blood bag and finding that it was gone must have made him quite mad. But he still can't do much to me; he still needs me, so he just took out his anger on some other things.

He looked to be in a better mood after the smack and ordered the servants to lock me up in my room, and I was under house arrest for six months because of my bad attitude. I am sure the servants couldn't fathom why the marquis was so angry about a charity case leaving the house for a while, but it didn't matter because I had been the cause of their fellow servants' demise.

They dragged me out of the room, and I could feel their rage radiating off them like a hot summer day. On the way, we passed the white wisp of Mrs. May, who seemed more healthy and on the way to her husband. She hesitated when she saw me, looking mildly alarmed at my bruised face. But a glance was all she gave me; I knew that face. It was the face people made when they knew what happened at the house but acted like nothing was wrong.

I was seen, but not at the same time. The only ones who really looked at me were the servants. Their disgust had been painted over by a deep hatred, which was not at all hidden in their eyes.

They practically dragged me along behind them, threw me into my room, and slammed the door behind me. I heard a padlock click together, and I was alone.