The Day I Chose to Kill

We spent that night in the same hotel, cold walls and thin sheets offering little comfort after everything we'd been through. But we needed rest—real rest. We had enough money to survive for a few months, and more importantly, I still had the sword Jonathan left me. I hadn't figured out its secrets yet, but it pulsed faintly beside me, like a heart that refused to die.

Magic wasn't something I had. Not like Annya. Not like the others. All I could rely on was this sword and whatever lived inside it. And maybe... myself.

That morning, the skies hung heavy. Clouded over, grey and thick, like the heavens were ashamed of looking down on this world. Not a single ray of light touched the earth. It wasn't raining—but the stillness in the air said it might. The news of what happened at the capital hadn't spread yet. But it would. If not today, then tomorrow. And when it did, they'd come. Not to help. Not to mourn. But to kill. Again.

That night, I returned to my room. Sat beside the sword and crossed my legs in silence. I began to meditate.

Hours passed. The world faded around me. But no voice came. No answer from the sword's spirit. Just silence.

I meditated through the night, searching for something—anything. And got nothing.

By dawn, we had already checked out. Our next destination was the neighboring town—an attempt to stay ahead of the whispers, the bounty hunters, the Devil Banishers. We walked side by side, saying nothing. Sometimes grief doesn't need words.

That was when it happened.

A carriage passed us on the road. Its wheels thundered like drums of war. From the slit in its back, I caught something strange—a tail. A fox tail, stuck in the carriage door.

And then—

A scream.

Not loud. But real. Sharp. A human voice lost in metal wheels.

"Stay here," I told Annya, my tone low but urgent.

She looked at me with worry. "Why?"

"I heard something. A scream. I'll check it out."

"I didn't hear anything," she replied, stepping closer.

"Annya," I whispered with restrained anger. "Didn't I tell you to stay back?"

"I was worried," she admitted, tears trembling in her eyes. "You just walked off. I thought... maybe you were going to leave me too."

I froze.

Those words hurt more than I expected.

"I'm never leaving you," I said, voice quieter than before. "I just went to check. That scream... it wasn't normal."

"But I didn't hear anything," she insisted. "And look. That woman's unconscious."

She was right. The woman they were dragging from the carriage—fox ears, bloodied clothes, wrists tied—was limp. Not moving.

I stared. Something about her struck a distant chord. Not pity—no. Something else.

Annya whispered, "She's a fox-woman. They get kidnapped... sold. For horrible things."

I clenched my fists.

This world…

"Hide," I told Annya. "I'll handle it."

"Be careful," she said, worry soft in her voice.

I nodded, turning back. My presence control had grown. The meditation—though silent—had worked. I moved like a shadow, slipping into the hotel without notice. Every breath was controlled, every footstep placed with purpose.

They took the fox-woman into a side room.

I followed them.

Down a corridor. Left turn. One man stayed behind near the entrance. Another leaned against the wall near a door with golden handles.

I waited.

When the man closest to me looked away, I struck.

The hilt of my sword hit the back of his head—clean, silent. He dropped.

The second turned. Saw the motion.

I dove under a nearby table, waiting.

He approached his unconscious comrade, confusion turning to panic. Just as he was about to shout—

Crack.

I struck him too. Another clean hit.

Silence returned.

The door to the side room wasn't locked. I pushed it open.

Inside were women. At least a dozen. Some human. Some semi-human. All of them tied and gagged. Bruises littered their arms. Red rope marks cut into pale skin. Their eyes were covered with thick black cloths. Their mouths stuffed.

None of them had hope left in their eyes.

I moved fast, untying them one by one, whispering explanations.

"You're safe. We'll get out. Follow me."

Some trembled. Others sobbed. One woman flinched when I touched her wrist, tears streaming even through her blindfold.

I couldn't even bring myself to speak. What could I say? "It's okay"? No. Nothing was okay.

As I led them down the corridor, I kept hearing it.

A voice. Inside me.

"This world is filth."

"You see it now, don't you?"

"They say you're cursed... but the real curse is this world itself."

"Burn it."

I gritted my teeth, shaking the voice off. Not now.

We reached the lobby. Almost safe.

Then—

Crash.

One of the women had collapsed. She hit a table. A metal vase fell. The echo thundered.

Footsteps. Voices. Movement from the corridor. They heard us.

I turned. "Run!" I shouted. "Take her if you can! Get out!"

None of them listened. They ran. But left the girl behind.

She lay there, unconscious. Broken.

My breath caught in my throat.

But then—

A shadow moved.

It was her—the fox-girl. The one from the carriage.

She picked the girl up. Looked at me.

I nodded. "Go. I'll be fine."

My voice was calm. Firm. But I felt nothing inside.

She hesitated. Eyes wide. There was fear in them. The kind I'd seen before.

The kind I had... when Jonathan turned to me with fire behind him and said, "Run."

She vanished.

And I turned.

The corridor ahead filled with footsteps. Shadows with blades.

I raised my sword.

No fear.

Only silence.

Only resolve.

This time—I wouldn't run.

Let them come.

Let this rotten world bleed.