“Fuuuuuuck!!!” I wake up with beads of sweat dripping from my face, raining down onto the thirsty dirt. I attempt to jump to a standing position except I can’t. I try to reach out my hand but feel restraint. “What is this?” I feel rope around my wrists and ankles. I wiggle my body to reach for my blades on my belt but I don’t feel them, they’re gone! I feel nothing at my sides, nothing in my pockets. I look around but my vision is blurry and I only feel the hot sweat running down my chest. My eyes slowly begin to focus on my surroundings but this place looks unfamiliar, I must not be in the village. “This is bad” I think. My heart rate begins to increase, my sweat starts to hit the dirt harder as I struggle to reach for anything that can help me get out from this rope. I struggle and strain but to no avail, I’m stuck.
I can smell the crisp air, the wind brushing against my cold sweat meaning it’s close to dawn, but for the life of me, I can’t see anything that would help locate where I’m at. How did I get here? “Where the fuck am I?” I shout, but only my echo responds.
Who did this to me? Did the villagers find me in the woods? Impossible if they sent a scout they would never have found me, I was too far from the village. Even if they found me, they would have immediately sentenced me to death. Is that where I am, am I dead? No, I can’t be dead, death can’t feel this way. It feels too real.
The sun begins to bathe my cold wet skin, laying a blanket of heat over my body. It’s morning now. What place is this, where are the people? Suddenly, the quiet of the wind fades as doors begin slamming, farm animal noises and roosters start crowing, footsteps start rushing towards me with people whispering and gathering around. Small children run towards me, with all the people gathering around me in a large circle to see the main attraction, me.
The children start to whisper louder than the rest, they start to launch small pebbles, and dare each other to run circles around me, each one getting braver and braver, getting closer and closer, challenging each other’s courage. “Why are children so bothersome?” I think. More people begin to crowd around me. They began to bicker and talk among each other, creating a thunderous commotion of insults and names as they tried to figure out what to call me.
A small child’s voice then asked “Mother, can I go and touch the man?” to which his mother responded, “He’s no man, he’s a demon, don’t you dare go near that demon, you hear me, you stay here next to me!” Then the commotion slowly changed from a commotion of different insults and names to a chant in unison, “Demon, Demon, Demon, Demon, Demon!”