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Chap 2. Part 3 "Enter Arina" |
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Death is not a big guy. He's usually only slightly tall, 6'1 at most. And he tends to not like his full name. I know this, because, well, I've lived with him for a few years now.
And yes, I was alive.
My name is Arina, and now Im kinda stuck in a very confusing position. On one hand, I am very, very dead. On the other.... Azzy cant see me. Meaning Im alive.
Its very confusing....
I get the feeling you people have seen what Azzy did, and must think Im all "oh, he shouldnt of done that" or some other sappy bullshit. The only thing I felt bad at was that Azzy really didnt take more time.
Im a b***h, I know.
Im not nice, not to people who shove a flaming sword through my chest, and then make me little more than dust and ash. Especially when I feel it.
And let me tell you, dying hurts like a hot poker in your a**.
But perhaps you want to know more about what led up to this? Well, its not like I dont have time.... and Im not nearly as dramatic as Az, I think....
Lets see... I was about 23 at the time of my death. I dont know much about the world before I was eight, I was living on the street at the time. My "world" was a place called Atim, apparently one of the more chaotic worlds that Az has Over Reaper of (IE, he gets to make it go bye bye if he wants, for you retards out there.). Atim is, or was, seperated into eight factions, each worshiping either Science, Magic, or nature. Wars would break out at one side sneezing at another, but I was used to it, it helped during Az and I travelling...
But Im getting ahead of myself.
From the age of eight to the age of eleven, I was taken in by the Sarin. The Sarin were one of the more powerful factions at the time, focusing on elemental magics and forces- a Magical Science if you will. They saw Az and his sibs as some sort of God or something, Something I often made fun of him about later.
Well, they taught me how to fight, how to adapt, and how to 'cast magyks' as they put it. Weird s**t, if you ask me. Then I was sold to another faction, a stronger one, as an offering. From the ages of eleven to twelve I learned how to be a thief.
It was fun.
And then.... he hit the ground somewhere in the desert. He claims I knew because he knew I was here immediately. However... he doesnt say why he killed about ninety people immediately after waking up. Infact, he creeps me out when I ask- he gets this look... like he saw things that never should happen.
Did I mention he looked like a freaking monster?
Twelve feet tall, eight wings, and tentacles with blades wizzing about, claws that made dragons crawl back into their caves like whipped dogs.
It was awesome.
I just stood there, and shot him. In the head.
He stopped killing people... but was then focused on me.
You know that feeling when you realize you've done something REALLY stupid? You know, when you go "Oh crap, I think Im gonna die"?
Yeah, that feeling.
I'd love to say I stood my ground and stared him down. I really, really would. Especially after how hyper he was for the next year, like a goddam puppy...
I ran.
Actually, no. I hauled a**. I'd done nothing more than draw its, HIS, attention, and didnt realized that I had a big a** "DONT TOUCH" floating above my head. He'd just turned roughly a third of the strongest people I'd known into dog chow in roughly six seconds. I did a brave, yet stupid thing.
And thats all you get until I figure out where the hell I am....
 Azzy Rael · Tue Sep 08, 2009 @ 10:53pm · 0 Comments |
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