Heroes to Hunted

My hands trembled uncontrollably, undergoing a violent spasm every other moment.

Just the act of opening the door was too taxing for me, requiring more focus and effort than I cared to admit.

I stepped back a few paces and positioned my shoulder towards the door. Then, taking a deep breath, I charged toward it with all my strength, unleashing a forceful slam that echoed through the room.

When I burst in, I saw two men pinning Agawa to the ground. A large balding one in a torn cloth shirt and a thin one with a goatee beard wearing leather body armor.

The balding one turned away from Agawa toward me. "You bastard, who the hell are you!" he swiped one of his thick, bushy arms at me.

"It's one of the prisoners!" the bearded one responded frantically. "Why doesn't he have a collar?!"

I checked on Agawa to see she was in an unforgivable state. Her clothes were torn to shreds, her face was swollen purple from where they struck her, and her eyes were stained red from crying.

'How many more are experiencing what she is? How many have been consumed...defiled?' The thought disgusted me. Even more than that, a fire ignited inside my heart. It burned away any hesitation that I might've had...any feelings that would've held me back from what I was about to do.

"I'll be honest with you two, I have to kill you both," I flourished my knife, tightening my grip to the point of stanching my wrist's bleeding. "Sorry."

The bearded one stood up from Agawa and panicked. "Shit, shit, shit, shit!"

Both thugs assumed a fighting stance while wielding worn daggers. The weapons were pitifully made at best, with both blades bearing cracks from years of use and poor maintenance.

The two were better off using screwdrivers or box cutters at this point.

Knowing that I had to keep Agawa out of harm's way, I taunted them. "Yours are very small…aren't they?" I forced a smirk. "Your blades, I mean?"

"You…YOU…" The balding one's face went red with rage. "I'll KILL YOU!" His guttural scream echoed throughout the room, leaving short-lasting vibrations in the air.

The balding one charged, making him the first to attack; it was probably a coincidence. His moves were that of an amateur. Sluggish, unrefined, and full of openings to exploit. He thrust his knife toward my left eye, but it was easy to dodge.

After I sidestepped, the thug staggered past me. He was at the mercy of his weight's momentum.

"Wha-" he exclaimed in dismay.

"You're surprised that I dodged that? Really?" I jeered.

His face reddened as he roared with renewed rage. He swiveled back toward me and lunged again, this time with more reckless fury than before. "KEEP DODGING YOU LITTLE B*TCH; I'LL GUT YO-"

I waved my free hand in front of him, blinding his eyes with a spurt of blood from my wrist.

"AH! You f*ck!" he stopped in his tracks to rub out the blood, an opportunity I wouldn't waste.

I kicked my legs into gear and quickly descended upon him. 'You're finished,' is what I thought when I split his neck's flesh with my blade. I plunged it deep into his throat, going so far as scraping against his spinal cord, before ripping it back out.

Blood sprayed wildly from his wounds as he raspily wheezed. Fortunately or unfortunately, I was used to the throes of death, so it didn't affect me much.

He frantically pressured his neck wound with widened eyes as gouts of blood gushed between the cracks of his fingers.

Impressively, despite his situation, he still opted to fight. Though he tried to shout, his cut throat prevented him from forming coherent words. Instead, what he uttered was raspy, unintelligible nonsense.

Shakily clasping his dagger in his free hand, his expression became that of a bull's as he charged me and swung his knife with reckless abandon. A decision he wouldn't have time to regret.

I grabbed his leading wrist and twisted it, causing his hand muscles to loosen involuntarily.

Once his palm opened, I snatched the knife from his hand and embedded the blade into the base of his neck. The knife shook as it snapped his spine in two through squelching flesh.

His body went limp, and his eyes dulled as the last spark of life faded from them. Finally, he crashed to the ground, kicking up a shockwave of dust and blood from the impact.

"One down," I exhaled.

"You!" the bearded one backed away in shock. "What the hell did you do?!"

"Now to the next," I turned my eyes to meet him. I'm unsure what kind of expression I had, but streaks of urine trickled down his leg in response. Though I felt no hesitation, I still sympathized with the humiliation he must've felt.

He dropped his knife and fell to his knees to beg. "No, no, please, I'm sorry. I didn't want to do this, but he egged me on!" he pointed toward the drooling corpse on the ground. "I was going to kill him myself, I swear! Please, please, please believe me!"

"I believe you," I said softly. After I stashed the knife behind my back, I walked up to him and kneeled.

No matter how despicable someone was, I didn't relish in another's pain. Even in the war, I avoided actions that caused senseless suffering. This time would be no different.Though I say that, it'd be a lie to say I felt no personal ill will toward him. Seeing what he did to Agawa, I couldn't forgive him for that.

The thug's terrified, tear-filled expression gave way to euphoric relief. "Oh, thank you! Tha-"

Like a lighting strike, I brought the knife from behind me and surgically sliced his neck in two. A blend of shock and fear appeared on his face.

To ease his pain, I next plunged the blade as far as it'd go into his heart. Several severed arteries dampened my blow as I sliced deeper into his chest.

He weakly clawed at my throat to push me away, but it was already too late for him. Though he could no longer speak, his eyes said it all. They were wide, filled with panic and fear. Even more than that, they were the eyes of one who'd been betrayed.

"W- W-," he gurgled blood as he wheezed. Though he couldn't speak, I could guess what he'd been trying to say. He was asking "why?"

"I can't trust you not to kill me later," I replied. I then sat and took his head into my arms. It was the best I could do to ease him into the afterlife.

"Forgive me" were the only words of condolence I could offer. There wasn't a single excuse that would justify what I'd done. He was despicable, but I still committed the crime of snuffing out a surrendering unarmed man's life.

He hacked blood on my face and his skin twitched sporadically. As much as he fought against it, his body had already accepted the inevitable. It already anticipated death. Then, his eyes widened to their limits, his attempt to stay conscious.

Several seconds later, the convulsions within his body ceased, and his grip loosened from my throat.

His hands fell to the floor, and his eyes rolled back into his head. Like his comrade, he passed on. The reaper finally claimed his soul.

'Well, might as well grab anything useful,' I flipped him over and grabbed a bloodied keyring from his trousers. I noticed them during the fight, and given these were dungeon guards, their keys would be incredibly handy.

As I stood up, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the bloody pool. Though I saved Agawa, a savior wasn't what stared back at me. Instead, it was vile…less than human. It was a machine. A machine whose only purpose was killing.

'That's me… Freshly manufactured,' I sighed and turned away. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Agawa.

She unmovingly watched with a look of pure horror. Tears ran down her cheeks and over her hands as she clutched them to her mouth. Her eyes were wide, exposing the panic that seized control of her body.

Some part of me knew this would happen. Anyone would be repulsed when witnessing one person's act ending another's life. Especially when that other was a surrendering, begging man.

Though I knew it would end this way, I'll admit that I felt disappointed. It was sad I couldn't be what Agawa wanted me to be. "I'm sorry, Agawa, but I told you, " I met her eyes with my own, "I'm no hero. I'm just a soldier that's lived longer than he should've, that's all."

She didn't respond. Instead, her body froze with her eyes transfixed on the scene of bloody carnage.

Distinct regret formed within my heart as I looked at her. Not because she now saw me for what I was, but because I had no time to let her deal with her trauma. We were still in this godforsaken mansion, after all!

I approached her with the utmost care, planning to unbind the chains that detained her, but she shuddered with every step I took. That same person who danced with me just hours ago now saw me with nothing but fear and disgust.

Knowing she'd be a liability like this, I decided to manage her as one.

'I'm sorry, Agawa,' I apologized again, then leaped toward her.  She had only a fleeting second to worry before I struck her in the gut. She fell forward into my arms as her eyes lost focus. A moment later, she was unmoving and unresponsive.

Though apathetic, I wasn't so insensitive that I'd leave her so close to being nude, so I scavenged a nearby blanket to wrap her in after easing her body to the ground.

Once I'd clothed her as best I could, my attention fell upon her reddened ankle. More specifically, I focused on the iron binding that was shackling it.

I fumbled through the key ring I obtained from the bearded guard, trying each on the chain's lock.

The first key failed; it was too big. The second key failed; it was too small. Finally, after several minutes of trial and error, I heard a reverberant "clunk," signifying the lock was now unlatched.

After removing the steel ring, I examined Agawa's ankle more closely. My immediate concern was the extent of swelling present; the area was a deep reddish-purple color, with visibly inflamed skin.

While the clasp was definitely tight, it didn't seem restricting enough to cause this much irritation to her skin. Not unless she violently yanked on it or something to that degree.

'I can at least wrap it,' I thought. I was no combat medic, but I could still apply the basics. So I found some unsoiled rags to bind her leg with.

After I was done, I looked at the keys I had pilfered. Most of them were incredibly 'ordinary,' which contradicted the theme of flamboyance within this place. However, there was one that caught my eye.

Amongst the cluster of unremarkable metal, this key shimmered with personality. It was engraved in the shape of a bird talon, with sharp golden wings welded to the base.

"This looks important," I said, stashing the keyring away on my person.

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