Go! 23 [F4M] Nashville, TN - Searching for an ethereal heart ♡ |

23 [F4M] Nashville, TN - Searching for an ethereal heart ♡

2021.03.03 02:10 themightyloner 23 [F4M] Nashville, TN - Searching for an ethereal heart ♡

My name is Hannah but another name I go by is Spooky. I'm 23 years old and I live in a city outside of Nashville, Tennessee.
I am a curvy black girl who is 5'6" and currently on a weight loss journey.
Now my hobbies... I am a writer. I wrote one book and am currently writing the sequel to it. I have been writing and making up stories since I was six, so it's definitely my passion. Right now, I write Fanfiction... if you ask nicely enough, I'll share the link with you. :)
I also love listening to music. Some of my favorite bands are twenty one pilots, Amber Run (ask me how their concert was), Phantogram, Purity Ring and OneRepublic. Additionally, I like playing video games (PS4), watching TV and watching movies. Also starting to learn to cook and bake, thanks to my step-mom.
Another big interest in my life is the BDSM kink/lifestyle, DD/LG (Dom Daddy/Little Girl). I just got into it in September. So far, I have a pacifier (which you can see on my page!) and a onesie (there's also a pic of me in it on my page), so not much little stuff yet. I've been looking for a daddy with not much luck. So if you're interested in this, great! But if not, that's okay too! I'm sure we'll get along just fine either way.
What I am looking for... Someone who is honest, open, affectionate, loving, caring, loyal. Someone who likes to voice and/or video chat (this is a big one for me) when we both have time. Someone who is willing to support me emotionally and mentally.
I'd prefer someone from age 24 to age 50.
You can DM or PM me. Thank you for reading. :D
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2021.03.03 02:10 originalcrip Wells

He better not be completely gone😢😭
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2021.03.03 02:10 bluthesnowleopard a wip of my stylized springtrap model [temp mats] marked nsfw because slight gore

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2021.03.03 02:10 virgd_04 Get COVID vaccine in FL

Alright so I was able to get an appointment for a COVID vaccine on Friday. While I am not part of the 65+ group nor healthcare worker, I have high cholesterol- while it’s a coronary disease, guidelines are not clear if high cholesterol is higher risk. With the being said, I don’t know info should proceed with the appointment. I feel guilty, but I also know a ton of people who got it here in Miami 2-3 months ago because they knew people working in hospitals, pharmacy, etc. and all the 65+ people I know all were able to get their shots weeks ago. I also have a 2 kids under 2 and no family around (all in another country) I’m scared of getting the virus and not being able to care for them if I am really sick. My dad also spend 12 days in the ICU because of COVID. Should I get the shot? I know it seems morally wrong, but I feel like it’s almost a free for all at this point in Miami...
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2021.03.03 02:10 DonAcetto 🚀🚀🚀🚀💎🙌🙌🙌GME‼️‼️‼️

🚀🚀🚀🚀💎🙌🙌🙌GME‼️‼️‼️ submitted by DonAcetto to WallStreetbetsELITE [link] [comments]


2021.03.03 02:10 QuincyBoi Gouge your nose into a pulp

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2021.03.03 02:10 Cheesemonger543 When dealing with food at a very instant in time food goes from good to bad. But for that single moment in time is the food both good and bad or do we just go with bad.

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2021.03.03 02:10 InspirobotBot Wed Mar 3 03:10:52 2021

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2021.03.03 02:10 Parker_Jay For the first time since December I put the game on the shelf for a few days

I was sick of no content for offline players. WE GOTTEM THOUGH, HELL YES! THESE REWARDS ARE SO GOOD TOO!
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2021.03.03 02:10 goncalomoita17 Helltaker x tf2

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2021.03.03 02:10 Spencer2091 Really any comment system

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2021.03.03 02:10 moneyshouters First day of school a huge success, says school leaders

First day of school a huge success, says school leaders submitted by moneyshouters to Tradingcryptos [link] [comments]


2021.03.03 02:10 i_miss_db Ant talks a little about the documentary

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2021.03.03 02:10 bigcityblinking LPT: Garment Steamers = Game Changer

So the world is trending towards business casual and remote work (!), but one of the best investments that I have made was a standing garment steamer for removing wrinkles from clothing.
Even with mostly wrinkle resistant shirts, I found myself going to a dry cleaner on a bi-weekly basis. It wasn't convenient (had to go to an ATM to get cash, drop-off and pickup trips, etc.) and somewhat costly. I have had a garment steamer for about 10 years and I can not recall having a need to go to a dry cleaner since I bought it. I also do not think that I have had to use my iron either. A garment steamer gets most clothing 95%+ the way there. It takes about 1 minute to steam a shirt, so it is very quick to use once it is heated. I typically do all of my clothing at one time after they have been laundered.
The garment steamer has turned out to be a big time saver and paid for itself within a few months. Don't go cheap as you can get a very nice standing one for ~$60.
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2021.03.03 02:10 butt_chug_69420 Soooo wtf ?!? No pattern just up and gone also this is the first time I see still posted on this site I may over looked in past. I know the last few days everyone has mentioned. “Also, got locked out of my old acct.”

Soooo wtf ?!? No pattern just up and gone also this is the first time I see still posted on this site I may over looked in past. I know the last few days everyone has mentioned. “Also, got locked out of my old acct.” submitted by butt_chug_69420 to NAKDstock [link] [comments]


2021.03.03 02:10 gmestonckcom PRAW documentation

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2021.03.03 02:10 thelakeshow1990 [XB1] H: legendary weapons and armor (scroll left) W: looking for Bol/ap/cav HEAVY combat armor. Trying to piece together a full set

[XB1] H: legendary weapons and armor (scroll left) W: looking for Bol/ap/cav HEAVY combat armor. Trying to piece together a full set submitted by thelakeshow1990 to Market76 [link] [comments]


2021.03.03 02:10 Pee_Nut_Pup Texas Removes Mask Mandate To Scare All The Californians Away

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2021.03.03 02:10 rdteets Cake Day Carry

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2021.03.03 02:10 somethingformeforhim 25 [F4R] KC area. Would like to get my mind off things, looking for someone to hangout

I'm having a rough time lately and having just recently moved back to the area, I don't have many people to hangout with. I really need to get my mind off some things and need to do so fairly quickly. just looking for someone who would be down to hangout in a friendly manner. Drinks, food, ice cream, smoking if you're into that, just a drive, I literally don't care.
I'd love to get to know someone more. We can exchange pics or whatever if you want. Hopefully there's some people around
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2021.03.03 02:10 NerdlingerOG There are only 2 reasons I am 💎🖐 with GME.

1-stick it to the man 2- wear a new pair of socks everyday for the rest of my life
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2021.03.03 02:10 beardedmuggle You receive a radio shout out by the person that knows you best. What song do they request/dedicate to you?

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2021.03.03 02:10 Iworkformycat27 She Was a Mother Making a Difference!

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2021.03.03 02:10 InspirobotBot Wed Mar 3 03:10:49 2021

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2021.03.03 02:10 ZacharyWurtherd I Tried to Make the Sun Smile (Part One)

~1~
BURN
The smell of sizzling, boiling flesh is a stench like no other. The way the fat hisses and pops, and the delectable screams that accompany it makes for an experience to behold—enough to set one's stomach rumbling if they're of the right mindset.
Twenty-four people broiling alive, writhing and shrieking, skin swimming like melted wax, casting their anguished pleas against the barred door that trapping them in the scorching inferno. I battled the noise with a chuckle. I'd truly outdone myself this time. Brother Shift wretched onto the sidewalk, splattering the contents of his stomach all over his shoes.
Even for the most hardened and despicable of men, the overwhelming odor and unrelenting chaos can at times prove to be too burdensome; such was the case for Brother Shaft. But not I, oh no-no. I basked in the flickering limelight of the flames, letting the refreshing heat and death wash over me like a wave. And to think it was all so easy!
"Little Maiden," a filthy little hole of degeneracy sitting on the corner of Markus Street, was nothing but a boiling pot for undesirables and the occasional unwary tourist. It was a disease, and I'd found a kerosene cure. Their suffering would make a bountiful offering.
"Let's go...," whimpered Brother Shaft. He placed his disgusting hand upon my shoulder, a twisted, useless meat claw. Blackened and shriveled beyond repair. It was an apt reflection of his dark heart. Not as dark as mine though, but black and withered nonetheless.
I spat in his face, shoved him away, cursed his name with threats and slurs. He cowered like a beaten hound. "We will go when I say we go, Brother. I wish to revel here a moment longer."
His lips twinged like he was about to say something. Hah! As if that wretched cur could work up the nerve to argue with me! A humorless joke!
As all good things must, however, my moment came to an end. The sound of sirens pierced the sky, heralding the arrival of swine. "Bah!" I threw my matchbook into the flames, the very one I'd used to create my masterstroke. "It seems the higher powers conspire to ruin a good thing! Fine then, let us go!"
I allowed Brother Shaft to guide me to where Brother Quiet awaited in his van. The engine was already thumping and humping, almost as obnoxiously as Brother Quiet's insistent efforts to hurry us along. "You fools! What took you so long! Let's go!" I entertained the thought of sticking a knife in his fat, toadlike throat. No doubt the sound of him choking over his own spit and blood would be soothing to my ears, but there wasn't the time, and I didn't much fancy explaining myself to Overseer Hack.
Someone like Brother Shaft would not be missed, but sadly Brother Quiet wouldn't go so easily into the void. And so, I refrained from indulging the devil in my ear, and merely closed the van door behind me. "Take us away, Brother."
We were well on our way, zooming down backstreets and squealing down narrow alleys that barely allowed us passage before Brother Quiet bothered to inquire how the mission went.
"It was satisfactory," I answered. "Very much so. Father and the Overseers will be most pleased."
"I remind you, Brother Row, that it is not the shepherds who we do this for. Do not forget the purpose of these acts." Sometimes Brother Quiet's insistence on proving contrary to his name can be most irksome.
"Yes, yes. Smiling Sun and all that. Do not forget that I've held a position in this order much longer than you, Brother. Do not forget that it was I who indoctrinated your own blood father, and do not forget that it was I who held the privilege to end his miserable existence."
Though I could not see his face, I know that Brother Quiet's features had formed a hard, grim expression. Whatever babbling nonsense he had planned to fling my way no doubt died in his throat. His father's betrayal was still a sore spot, even seventeen years later. I think he resents that it was I and not him who got to end that pitiful man's wasteful existence. How tragic.
"You speak as though it were a good thing." Oh ho, seems I had struck a nerve.
I answered him with a cackle, one befit for a cliche depiction of a witch. That tends to happen with aging vocal cords. "But it was, young Quiet. It's not every day we're so lucky as to expose a traitor in our midst and offer them up as a sacrifice, and even less often one so valuable as he. You carry very special blood my Brother, very special indeed. Yes, I knew it to be so when I gave your father's neck a nice, wide red smile."
One of my few faults is an eye for the dramatic and grandiose. I spread my fingers over my throat in a gesture of bravado. Just to paint the picture a little clearer for Brother Quiet. He was quite young at the time, after all.
"You're a sick, cruel bastard, Brother Row." He wasn't trying to keep the hurt and anger out of his voice now. It was almost comical.
"Need I remind you that we're all sick, cruel bastards, Quiet?" One killer calling out another.
"I do what I do because it is necessary. I find no joy, nor any pride in these vile acts." Whine, cry, and more some whinging for good measure. It is hard for me, at times, to remember not everybody is like me. Though surely, we all are "evil," I do suppose there are varying levels of it. Mine, I suspect, runs deep to my very core. It's who I am.
"You said it yourself, you do what you do because it is necessary. Is it wrong, then, that I find pleasure in the necessary?" That shut him up. One might think I have a tragic, horrid backstory that made me the way I am, and they would be entirely incorrect in that assumption. I had a good childhood. Unlike many, even in our order, I had caring, loving parents who did their best to raise me right. It didn't stop me from cutting their throats while they slept.
It only bothers me on the cold, lonely nights. Brother Shaft muttered something in the backseat. He held up his bad hand with the good and moved it around like a puppet of sorts.
"Speak up, freak," I ordered. "Your foolish mumbling is grating upon my ears."
"The Sun," he whispered to his shriveled claw. "The Red Sun is stirring. It has accepted our offering. I can feel its elation running through my bones." After the harvest that left Brother Shaft so crippled, he claimed to have gained an increased sense, like a blind man will gain an enhanced hearing. He's always going on about his heightened senses. At times, the heretic claims the Sun communicates with him. I think he just took one too many blows to the head. Something snapped. And he was never quite the same.
So there you have it, twenty-four burnt to cinders, a freak, a mournful murderer and a sadistic sadist, speeding away into the night with the ashes of the damned flying from the tire treads. I cast a glance toward the sky, where dark clouds parted to reveal the moon in its crimson glory. Quiet watched me through slitted eyes, his lips curling back into a sneer. Just what was that half head thinking?
I smiled back at him, yet my arms were rigid, the chords in my neck strained—I was tense like a pig knowing he’s next in line for the cleaver, not knowing when the knife will descend, only that it would. Our gazes met, and when those dagger eyes locked onto mine it was as though I could already feel the knife sinking in.
~2~
MERCY
"It took you long enough," griped Brother Cork. I'd like to have put a cork in his mouth. The greasy, slimy degenerate kept watch outside the warehouse door. By the looks of things, he was doing a poor job of it.
"Seems you took advantage by sleeping on your duty, no?" I didn't bother looking the mutt in the eye. He wasn't worth it. "You failed to open the gate for us. Poor Brother Shaft had to get out in the rain and open it himself."
At the time, the rain hadn't been more than a slight drizzle. But now, it grew heavy, and in moments I feared the heavens would burst open and drench us all. As Brother Shaft claimed to feel the Red Suns' presence in his bones, so too did I feel the weather shifting in my own. Comes with age, I'm told.
Brother Cork scratched his blocky jaw and tapped his head, like a big dumb giant trying to rattle his two brain-cells awake. "Uh, oops."
"Yes. Oops indeed. Now open this damned door before we all get soaked." The idiot scrambled to slide open the door, just enough to allow the van narrow passage. Inside, Brother Quiet parked it in the corner. It was dark and dreary in that filth hole, and I could feel a draft blowing down from the rafters.
I'm not a man who needs his creature comforts, but even I thought we could do a little better to make our grand entrance hall less of a mockery. This was the Order of the Red Sun! Our enclave the Third Olive of the Branch! A little bit of grandeur surely could be afforded! Pah, no matter. That droopy codger of an Overseer had not a single creative fiber in his body. Our base of operation was drab and boring, just the way he liked it.
So empty was it that our footsteps echoed and squeaked against the warehouse walls. I do suppose however, it needed to look unremarkable so as not to garner attention should somebody stumble upon it. The real meat of the enclave was down below, in the tunnels. That where the blood troughs laid, where the offerings were encaged. Making my way through those tunnels always put my neck hair on edge. There was just enough light so you could see, but not enough for you to truly see. Just enough light to let the shadows dance and play, and for my mind to prove a fickle, conspiring traitor.
I'd hate to live down there like so many members did. Cramped and confined in those little rooms, triple, sometimes quadruple bunked. These people may have been my Brothers and Sisters, but that didn't mean I had to like being around them. They were a means to an end, nothing more, nothing less.
"Ah, Brother Row!" Said Overseer Hack as I pushed into his cubicle. One single lantern sat on his desk. Not a single decoration or furnishing beyond the necessary could be found. Like I said, drab and boring, just like Hack and his grey robes. "Just the man I was waiting for."
I knelt before him, though the act took a great effort of both the physical and mental kind. "My apologies for keeping you, Overseer. I may have gotten carried away, if only for a moment."
"It does not matter, my Brother. Tell me, has your harvest proved bountiful?"
"Yes, indeed. I should think the Sun should be most pleased. Brother Shaft said he could feel its slumber stirring." Like I stated earlier, I thought Shaft nothing more than a heretic, but Overseer Hack was a gullible idiot who completely bought into it. The fool. I often pondered how such a clueless baffoon could be appointed as an Overseer; but who am I to question the Order?
"Very good," stated Hack. His fingers ran through that long, wispy beard of his. "Very, very good. Tell me, what was the number?"
"Higher than projected. Twenty-four heads by my count. I'm sure we will hear more by the time the local news gets a handle on it."
"I suppose you're correct, Brother Row. I must say, though I'm not always a fan of your methods, you always produce the best results."
"Yes, Overseer." I forced a curtsey like one of those dress-wearing noble old-timey fools you read in fairytales. He was the sort of man to gobble that crap right up. "Might I inquire, as to what our next play shall be?"
Overseer hack rubbed a train of thought through his grey beard. "Hmm. I must speak with the other Overseers, throughout the four remaining branches. It would seem, should Brother Shaft's report be truthful, that our moment may soon be at hand. Finally! A harvest on the scale of your latest was risky. We will need to act safely from here on out. Only small reapings, yes Brother Row? Nothing quite so dramatic unless a final push is deemed necessary by the Father."
Great, just what I wanted to hear. More of the sneaking, stalking slow work. I much prefer the speedy process of rounding up the sheep and offing them all at once. Much simpler, and much more efficient. Shame that none of the fools above me shared in my zeal.
"Ah, can you feel it Brother Row? Could this final deliverance be at hand? My body trembled with excitement, and my heartbeat with elation. What a time to be alive, eh Brother Row?" He gave me a rare, putrid smile, one full of missing teeth. "Now then, there is much to consider, and-"
A knock at the door cut him off. Saved me from listening to his droning voice any longer. A head popped through the doorway, blonde hair trailing from her headpiece. Sister Maisie.
"Excuse me, Brother Row, Overseer Hack." Her voice held a defeated quality to it. Broken, you could say.
"Ah, yes. Just a moment dear. Me and Row here are just finishing up. Isn't that right Row?" Hack gestured me off as a child might shrug off an old toy in favor of a new one. "Come, come, Sister Maisie."
She walked past me, head down and close enough for me to catch a scent of lavender from her hair. She grabbed at my arm, and the shock of her warmth caused me to draw away suddenly and with revulsion. "Sorry..., uh, Brother Row, can you do me a favor and visit Maxwell? He doesn't have anybody to watch over him tonight."
Me? Why me? Why is it always me with little Maxwell? Did I not scare the welp sufficiently enough? That was the last thing I wanted to do, so naturally, I said yes. I didn't have it in me to argue, because I'm sure that insufferable idiot Hack would force me to anyway. Anything for his latest doll.
"I suppose I could do that." She opened her mouth, I assume to thank me, but was unable to do so as Overseer Hack interrupted with an irritating cough.
"Sorry, Overseer." Head hanging, eyes planted on the floor, she continued by me. I left the room without a glance back. We all held our duty within this order, and since Women weren't permitted to carry out the sanctified act of the Harvests, they had to fulfill their duty via alternate means. Even for disgusting, sagging creeps like Hack.
I suppose for me as well, had I held any interest in such things. But alas, the part of me that lusted was cut away long ago, just as many other bits and pieces of my body in an effort to extract a sufficient amount of suffering for my Initiation. The scalpels and scissors only ended up at my body because my tethers to worldly attachments had already been cut, and still yet my suffering was not deemed enough.
I was a rare case. By the end of the initiation, I was left a sad cripple and still, my resolve remained firm. Those baptizing me had given up. We took it as a sign that Sandariop, Serpent of the Sun, had already been satisfied with my anguish. So yes, I found myself mutilated for nothing. But that's the way things go I suppose.
I don't miss my missing parts too much though, not these days at least. More so when I was younger and my naive heart still raced for the opposite sex. It's all just a needless distraction from the important things in life.
My lamenting the past brought me before Sister Maisie's chambers, and inside I found Maxwell staring at the wall, lost inside his own young thoughts; dreaming worthless dreams no doubt. He did not stir when I entered. In fact, he gave no inclination that my presence was felt until that hound of his came to bark at my feet. I fought against the urge to break the animal's jaw, and instead gave it a gentle kick and sent it scurrying.
Filthy mutts. Unclean beasts, truly. Who's idea was it to let the child keep it? I grumbled, but in the end, I understood it. Like many things in our Order, it was painful but necessary. Every choice is made for a reason, and every pawn has a part to play. "Maxwell," I said.
The boy sat up and fixed his baby blues on me. They had recovered a bit of their vibrancy since initially I had discovered him. They were dull and sunken then. Utterly lifeless. "Mr.Row!" He exclaimed, evidently happy to be distracted from all the nothing.
"Brother, Row." I corrected. The boy ignored it and bustled up to me excitedly. "Sandariop help me."
Maxwell reached for my hand, but I shut that attempt down lickity split. I would have none of that crap, not now. "Why have you come? Are you here to play with me and Ralph?"
"The Hound? I should think not. No, that terrible beast will stay away from me."
"But-"
"No! No but's about it!" Petulant child! Questioning his superiors! A thousand poxes upon those who conspired to place me here. Why had I shown mercy? Why?
It was a burning mystery, placed inside the puzzle box that was my brain, only it was missing a few key pieces. There is no room for mercy in this Order. Such an act is a weakness, and yet when I slaughtered the pigs that were his parents and found him cuffed to a radiator, a little voice inside urged me towards mercy.
Divine intervention. It was the only reason I could imagine. Those unwelcome thoughts could not possibly be my own, and it seemed the Brothers agreed with me, as they labeled my actions the Will of the Red Sun. I may worship my God, but I wish he'd stay out of my head.
Maxwell stared at me expectantly. Always expectantly. Like I owed this wretched child something. Fine, then. He wanted a show, I'd give him one. "Come, child. With me." I beckoned him like a driver beckons his slaves. He came forward with a goofy smile plastered over his foolish face, and he kept it a good way down those miserable, dark and dusty tunnels. All sunshine and rainbows with this kid, though I suppose anything would seem like an improvement after the dump I'd pulled him from.
At Least here he didn't get his face smashed in over accidentally eating the wrong pudding cup. But still, he was having far too much of a grand old time for my liking. Fine then, I figured I'd go ahead and show him to the Blood Troughs. That oughta wipe that stupid smile off his oblivious face.
The prisoners gasped and writhed in their own grime and anguish as we entered the chamber. Initially, I hadn't liked that room—nothing more than a tomb of concrete. I had felt trapped, suffocated even. It had once been a generator room for the abandoned campus topside, but after I'd repurposed it to my liking, well, it started to feel a bit like home. My tools glittered in the vague candlelight— the stained crimson concrete a reminder of all the good times I'd had there.
But the smell was fierce and unrelenting. Piss, excrement, and rotting meat. I passed the crude iron cages, limbs protruding outwards, twitching and flaking. The bodies inside craned their necks at unnatural angles, and their ribs jutted outward from beneath dirty rags. These ones were meant to wallow a while. All good meals must simmer a while, after all, and these ones would make delectable offerings.
Suffering makes the world go round. Suffering is the foundation for the Order. Suffering is everything.
"You miserable sacks of flesh better not die on me! Be assured, you shall not find reprieve in death." I chuckled at their wailing despair. Maxwell looked around, unsure of himself.
"Who are these people?" He inquired timidly.
"Not people," Stated I. "These are nothing but offerings. Should Sandariop find them sufficiently satisfying, he will carry their suffering to the Red Sun." I pictured the great Serpent slithering from his unfathomable void, red eyes twinkling like stars before slurping up the tenderized souls and snaking them up to the Sun. Would it be satisfied? Would the Sun finally awaken from its slumber with a yawn?
The image got me giddy like a school child. My old bones creaked with the laughter hissing from my cracked lips. Maxwell swallowed, "But are these bad people?"
I sighed. "Oh child, you still have so much to learn. But alas, we will get you there one day. Soon." Bad, good, strictly in between? Who cares? Not me. You must look at things how they are; see people as nothing but lumps of meat to be used, otherwise, your conscience might cloud out the more important things. I have seen this fate befall brothers before, and I have seen these soft brothers become offerings themselves. Such is our way.
"Mercy...," croaked a voice from behind grimy bars. "Mercy...." Maxwell jerked away as the things gangly fingers reached for him. What is it with dying men that makes them think touch will keep them among the living? Always so clingy and wanting.
I was quick to swat the reaching arm away. A loud snap filled the chamber, and I realized perhaps I applied too much force. The bones broke in a jagged fashion, jutting out from the stretchy flesh of the dangling wrist. The offering inside cried out harshly. Soothing to the ears like music. I felt another giddy outburst rising in my throat.
"Mercy," repeated the man. A broken record, grating and encouraging me to be anything but.
"Look at this," I ordered Maxwell. I grabbed his chin and forced his view to level with the cramped, naked person. "Look. Tell me what you see."
Maxwell tried to avert his eyes, but I wasn't having any of his damned stubbornness. After a moment I managed to pry a little voice from him that said, "It's a man..."
"No!" I slapped his face. Gently. No more than a love tap, as my mother would have called it, but the self-absorbed brat started crying like a grandma with a broken back. One of the most irritating sounds, let me say. "Look upon this miserable wretch again, and look until you see what it truly is. A beast. A creature. Something to be used, something to be given. He is a lesser being because he does not have the truth. Do you understand?"
He nodded hastily. His whiny, sniveling voice said he did. But I knew better. "Do you know what I hate more than screeching babies and leg spasms, little Maxwell? Liars. I hate liars more than anything else. Do not try to deceive me again. You do not understand, but I will make you."
I retrieved a tool from the rack on the wall. A plain and simple knife. A bit dull, but polished and shiny nonetheless. It was just foolproof enough so that even a hack like Overseer Hack could understand it. I pressed it into Maxwell's hand. He held it awkwardly, not quite sure what to do with it.
"What is this, Maxwell?"
"A knife."
"No! Not just a knife. In the hands of a Brother, this is more than just a knife. This is a tool, an extension of the Sun's will. When you hold this tool in the name of Sandariop, you become a speaker. You channel his spirit through your fingertips. It is a great privilege. Can you feel it inside you? Can you feel his strength and his passion swell within? Take it. Take it and give an offering."
I grabbed the groveling prisoner's arm, outstretched it till his wailing overtook the sound of grinding bone. "Let Sandariop guide your hand. Do what must be done."
Maxwell was young. Maxwell was stupid. Maxwell was insufferable. But it doesn't take a genius to figure out what I was telling him to do. He stepped forward with a wobble in his step. With a pale face, he tried to speak, but I silenced him with a finger to my lips. "It is this one's time to offer penance. Look it in the eyes until it is no longer man, and then do what you know to be right."
Maxwell clutched the knife to his chest. In his hands, it looked like a short sword of old. His breathing grew rapid, but his voice remained silent. I whispered encouragement, but I'm not sure he heard. My first time putting steel to flesh had blood pounding in my ears. Blocked out every other thing, it did.
"Mercy...," one more time.
"I...," Maxwell stuttered. "I can't do it."
I let out a loud sigh. Why had I expected anything different? With one forceful motion, I tore the knife from his clutches whilst simultaneously shoving him back. "Watch close child. This is your life now, and in it, there is no room for mercy." I slashed a horizontal cut over the prisoner's wrist— a deep, bloody cut. But he would live. I would find a better use for him later.
Maxwell's sobbing rose up to compete with the screaming prisoner. I turned my back to him, leaving him and his pathetic cries to the darkness. "No room for mercy at all..."
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