The ring slipped from between my trembling fingers and fell on the floor. A tear streamed down my cheek and splashed on the expensively crafted diamond on the floor. I heard her call my name, begged me to understand and straightened things out, but I was unmovable. My heart turned into stone and broke under the pressure, like the ring breaking under my foot. Her cries drowned in the abyss of my heart.
“Good work hunter,” the head of the police department tapped me on the shoulder, “you’re helping in making our town more prosperous and safer.”
I blinked back more tears and wiped the ones already dampening my face. “For the greater good,” I said. I turned away from the station and walked down the stairs, away from her, away from what would’ve been my future wife. The cold winter air slapped me in the face; the cold was like daggers on my skin. I was a fool when I fell in love with her that day; she was so sweet and delicate as she bent down next to the well to scoop water with her bucket. She tried so hard to heave the bucket, alluring me into helping her. I went to her and offered my services; she reminded me so much of my younger sister, now ashes under the indifferent sky. Friendship flourished and she gave me a place to live whilst I was looking for a job. Two months later, I took the rash decision to marry her and spend my accumulated fortune on a small diamond ring.
The night I was going to propose, she was found near that same well, rocking back and forth in a fetal position mumbling words of death and calamity. Her bucket contained crimson water. A body was found inside the well, as if a creature had torn the poor man apart. Deep lacerations ran the length of his chest and severe wounds were inflicted in his head. When the townsfolk tried to take her to the authorities she escaped as the guilty murderer she was.
I was commissioned to hunt her down. Several sleepless nights I wandered through town looking for her and convincing myself this was all a misunderstanding. When I found her, insanity had taken over her; she was talking to a little spider in its spider web, talking about death. Everything in me broke as I saw her frail state of mind and danger to the world around her. My head contradicted my heart several times, I wanted to believe she was the lovely girl I’d fell in love with, that one person I wanted to share the rest of my life with, but all were illusions created by my heart. With the blurry vision clouded by tears, I aimed my crossbow at her and shoot.
I took her to jail the next day and she was burned in the afternoon. I was long gone by then, making my way toward the setting sun in hopes that those shadows will be left behind when twilight came.
The night is odorless; only sweep by the wind’s unrest qualities. I am lying in my unconsciousness, that place where everything blacks out from reality, unable to make a muscle move nor an idea formed, in other words, I feel nothing. I stare into the darkness for there is nothing else that catches my attention in this dark pit. A slow mist crawls in and makes my body shivers, but the color is mingled with the stale darkness. It settles on my body, pressing ever so slightly on my skin, giving me a sense of feeling, of touch. I part my lips to allow the air rich in aroma into my mouth, my skin slowly degrading as the mist penetrates my skin. The odor becomes stronger, wafting inside my nostrils. The pain is unbearable and I start to twitch as the odor makes it way toward my head, my eyes bulge and my body arcs, the first signs of movement.
I sniff and my eyelids shot open, blinded by the sudden darkness. I jolt upright and pant, feeling my nose for any bleeding and my head for any concussion. “My eyes are still in place,” I mumble, rubbing my tired eyes. The bright moon has a yellow aura around it, casting the thin clouds nearby in a sickening view. I am still in the rustic room, resting on the couch covered with knitted craftsmanship. A gentle touch startles me.