Noveling Life

My head still throbbing, I woke up from another nightmarish slumber. The night wasn’t dark but in shades of gray. That gave to things an ominous look. The wound on my forearm seemed to be getting worse, infection was eating at it and I had no idea how to stop it in this godforsaken place.

And it was forsaken all right. I came to wonder if I was still alive. This whole world was just wrong, out of place. There were no colors, and everywhere I looked I saw only endless featureless hills.

But the ache in my arm and my head, the thirst in my throat, the hunger in my belly convinced me that I was perhaps not in best of shape but alive nonetheless. That why I started to check on my weapons. The baldric of my sword hung uselessly on my back; my two pistols were loaded and swung on my waist.

I startled to the sound of a crow, a gigantic crow it seemed. What addressed me was a man with a head singularly reminding of a hawk.

— You are a stranger here, aren’t you? he said.

— Who are you? I asked defensively.

I could not quite catch his features then. Nor young nor old, I only had the feeling that he belonged to this place like those hills. Like he himself was this place. It was a strange creepy feeling, in fact. And if I’ve already boasted in this account of my life about my bravery, I am ashamed to confess that then, in front of the man, I was scared to the bones, and knew that the blade in my hand as the pistols to my waist were no match against him.

— You should be scared of me, he replied as if reading my thoughts, or I was just too obvious. But don’t be. I know who you are and why you are here, at least who sent you here to disturb my peace. And I hate him as much as you do if not more… so perhaps I will help you a little.

— Who are you? I repeated dumbly, stubbornly.

— My name doesn’t matter James.

Havoc

Or the story of an uncompromising Hero

I was happy that afternoon.

That fact alone was a small wonder. I’m all but a happy man. That said it is my custom to enjoy my happiness. Wisdom not so many people abide by.

But I’m not a fool.

Now you wonder why I was happy and wonder still who I really am. For this last you will have to wait. Let’s talk about the first.

“What’s kind of cigarette do you want, Sir?

– Any label would do, madam. I’m not a smoker. But a friend of mine used to tell me: “Havoc, my old friend, there’s no better way to enjoy a moment than with a cigarette between the lips.” In fact he died smoking. So I dare say that he really enjoyed his death!”

That unexpected joke brought laughter to my throat that I did not wish to contain.

The maid scrutinized me with uncomprehending eyes.

Obviously I disturbed her, but there was more. I read in those damp big blue eyes a desire barely suppressed. That’s one of my effects on people when I am happy, to inspire desire, especially on women. It is said that I am charming.

The lingering longing I saw in her gave me the hunger for flesh, for moist breaths and unending embrace. I clutched her hand when she passed me the cigarettes, leaned forward and whispered for her alone to hear: “Follow me”

She did.

I was long to come but no one came to complain. No one dared. And Carnisa just would not let me go. That was how I discovered her untamed nature and was pleased to do so. She actually made the enjoyment of my happiness something all together of another level.

After that, I rested, undisturbed. Quickly enough morbid thoughts returned. My demons are indeed never far.

I had another score to settle and my rage counseled me that it was a matter to be delayed no longer. So I stood up, took my handgun, so of my long blade and departed.

Don’t mind the blade, I know it old fashioned and always in the way. But that’s all about the style. You can expect it to be always convenient.

The wind was brisk almost alive, corrosive with frost. My jerkin was no match to such challenge but I had enough rage to keep me warm and more.

The man had to die. That done, I knew the fury would not be quenched, but it needed to be swayed somehow. So I went on, struggling under the breeze, a shadow amid street lights and skyscrapers.

A wanderer, always a wanderer. Pfah! I’ve got no time for such regrets or for complaints!

My soul restive, I entered the domain of the Enemy. The foul bastard had dogs. Not of those fearful little things which only force is to bark and growl. No, here were those silent lethal beasts, with fangs you would credit long enough to pierce to the heart of everything which roams the surface of the earth.

And I had only my hand and the blade to defend myself. I dared not to use the gun without a silencer. The retrieval of my prey would simply become precarious.

I pulled trough with a promise of a gigantic scar along my right forearm and left seven dark bodies on the floor, with some still groaning in pain.

The alleys continued twisted and unending. I didn’t succeed to come up with the original design map of the manor, so I was a little bit lost. Never to be daunted is another of my custom, so without hesitation I advanced into the darkness.

Late, very late after that, days or millennia past, I could not say, I woke up in the middle of nowhere, my head throbbing and my heart aching with an unbearable sensation of loss and grief. Of my last and greatest enemy no hints at all. So I heaved my fists against the sky and cursed, I intended as my own name suggested to bring havoc on this world if that was the only mean to reach the one who taught me despair!