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The Violet Reaper- Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2022-04-21 03:51:19 +0000 UTC“Talk to you soon partner.” The voice of Warden said. Alexander was left standing among the burned and disgraced bodies of his slain brethren. He was stunned, and for a time, didn’t move or speak, but as he understood what happened, what was happening, he knew what he needed to do first… attend to his men, and avenge them. He spent hours digging holes for the burials with his bare hands. By the time he finished digging, his hands were bloodied and stiff. When burning the bodies, the attackers had stacked them up, that made moving his men easier, he didn’t need to spend time walking all over the place making sure he had collected them all. The corpses had been burned, so the flesh was charred blacker than night.
Alexander couldn’t tell who was who, and a single thought kept appearing over and over again in his mind, Is one of these corpses mine? Once his men were buried, and the rituals to ease their souls performed, Alexander began walking to the nearest town. He was at least five days journey from a city, Bridon, but he knew he could reach the nearest town before the sun rose. Alexander did not sleep that night, he didn’t eat either, he only walked; walked, and plotted his revenge. His rage fueled him, kept him upright and walking, kept his eyes focused even through the pain from his hands. His eyes blurred, but still he walked, his knees buckled, but still he walked; he didn’t stop until he was at the town’s edge. There, he collapsed, and died from blood loss; the bleeding in his hands more severe than he thought. His body laid there in the moonlight, until he heard a voice.
“When I said I’d see you soon, I didn’t think it’d be this soon partner.” Warden laughed. Alexander opened his eyes and he sat once again at that strange table.
“This is.. NO! I haven’t had a chance to-“
“Simmer down, you’re dead, but that won’t last long. I mean, you haven’t even killed one Escapee yet.” Warden said with a puff of his cigar.
“So, you will send me back again?”
“I reckon so,” Warden replied.
“If I die again, will you simply keep reviving me?”
“As long as you’re useful, and as long as I need you.”
“Does this mean I am immortal?” Alexander asked.
“Oh no, as soon as I’m done with you, I’m letting your carcass rot, but until then… sure, I suppose that’s accurate enough.” Warden took a sip of his drink, and once again, it spilled from his teeth. “Get ready for the whiplash,” He said when he put his drink down.
“Whip-“ Alexander started to ask, but a sudden pain in his head stopped him. “AHHHHH!” He screamed and bolted upright clutching his head. He thrashed around for moment, until the pain subsided.
“HE’S ALIVE!” Someone shouted as Alexander thrashed. He noticed it was brighter, and that the sounds of murmuring voices were all around him. He let go of his head and looked up, a crowd of people, living breathing people, had gathered around and were staring at him. A few members of the crowd gasped, some of the women feinted, some of the men fainted, but all of them were shocked. An elderly man dressed like a doctor walked up to him.
“Are you okay young man?” He asked.
“I am, thank you. My head was.. in pain.” Alexander said collecting himself and standing up.
“Well why don’t you come up to my shop and I can have a look at you?” The man offered.
“Perhaps.. that is a good idea.” Alexander agreed and was led to the man’s medicine shop. Once he arrived, the man examined Alexander, looking in his mouth, nose, and in his ears. While he looked Alexander over, he introduced himself as Augustus of Hitchrack village.
“I am Captain Alexander of the seventh legion of Dalvon.”
“Well alexander, I can’t find a thing wrong with you. It’s like you’re as healthy as a newborn baby.” Augustus said confused. “I guess your headache could have been dehydration, or hunger, so after you’ve eaten and drunk something come back and tell me how you feel. Does that sound good to you?”
“I suppose so, but I will only be staying in town for a single day. I need to get to Bridon.” Alexander said and stood from the doctor’s chair.
“That’s over half a week’s journey. Do you have anyone going with you?”
“..No.” Alexander said sadly, thinking about his fallen brothers. “That is why I am going.”
“Well, either way you will need provisions, a wagon, protection of some sort, and I don’t know how to tell you this, but you don’t even have a coin purse.” The man pointed out.
“I know, but I will make do.”
“How?”
“However I have to. If I need food, I will hunt or fish. If I need protection, I will fight. I will be fine.”
“Young man, you are either the bravest man I have ever met, or the plain dumbest.” Alexander laughed and agreed he was both, then thanked the man for looking him over, and left. “If you’re ever in Hitchrack again, stop by and let me know how you’re doing okay son.” The old man said. Alexander agreed and bid him farewell.
The journey to Bridon was long and harrowing. Twice Alexander nearly died of thirst, but managed to find a stream to quench his throat. Once he did die, mauled and eaten by a roaming bear and her cubs he had stumbled across. When he died, it was noon, when he woke, it was night. Four days passed, but eventually Alexander found and arrived at Bridon, ready to have his revenge.
