Side Story: Marcus’s Journal (1)
3.2k 12 85
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

[Day XX, Month XX, Year XXX]

[This is my first time writing a journal. I’ve seen Paul writing in one so I thought it’d be cool to write in one myself. I don’t know if I’ll use it well but it doesn’t hurt to try.]

[Day XX, Month XX, Year XXX]

[It feels nice not having to do anything. I don’t have to train, learn the world's customs, learn swordsmanship, nor do I have to live up to expectations placed on me. Haha, I’m living the life!]

[Day XX, Month XX, Year XXX]

[It hasn’t been long since I started to mentor those three. I’m trying my best to teach them everything I know. Hell, I’m even remembering stuff I never thought I forgot! Haha, goes to show you how hard I’m trying to forget. 

Anyways, those three are soaking up my knowledge like a sponge. They’re slowly but surely becoming deadly warriors (not that I want them to be). Seeing them like that makes me feel proud. Is this how a teacher feels when their students finally ace a test? 

Probably so, but I can’t remember, I haven’t been to school in six years. I kinda miss it. 

Now that I’m on the subject of school, isn’t my handwriting kind of shitty? It’s on the level where the teacher would give me a fat ‘F’ just because they couldn't read it. I can draw a masterpiece but I can’t write worth shit. 

Even a fifth-grader has better handwriting than me! 

It seems that I’ll have to ask Mary to gather me a couple of penmanship books from the library.]

[Day XX, Month XX, Year XXX]

[I had another nightmare last night. They’re getting quite frequent compared to how it was back on Earth. There, I’d occasionally have a nightmare every once in a while. However, once I was summoned back here, I’m having them at least once a month. It’s always on a full moon. 

Last night’s nightmare was a scary one in particular. It was about the time when I was fighting in the arctic mountains in the far north. Up there, where it’s a harsh winter all year round, only a select few could endure such coldness, and they were the Wolfkin. Other than their fluffy silver tail and ears, they looked mostly human. 

Anyways, I digress. The nightmare was about that time where me and a few Wolfkin tracked a group of Denorian soldiers, they were hidden in a makeshift, secret laboratory. We got intel from a captured soldier that they were kidnapping Wolfkin and turning them into mindless drones to be used for the upcoming siege of a stronghold. The POW said that he, along with a couple of other soldiers, were tasked to escort a group of scientists who would kidnap Wolfkin and brainwash them with mind control magic, turning them into death soldiers. They were also tasked with other experiments as well but the soldier said he didn’t know anything about it.

I then jump to the scene of entering the secret laboratory.

It was a memory I could never forget.

Bloodied bodies strapped to tables with tools used for surgery placed on a tray, dried blood splatter all over the floors, brains with small magic sequences engraved on them were floating in jars, people frozen in large blocks of ice.

...I even saw the limbs of little kids. 

The scene was so revolting that I threw up. Many of the Wolfkin were like that as well. Their senses were 10x stronger than humans so their reaction to the gruesome scene was way more intense than mine. Some even had to leave the area.

To make things worse, a few of the Wolfkin recognized their family members. It was so sad seeing men who could kill and fight trolls barehanded break down into tears like that.

Then I jumped to the scene of killing the soldiers and scientists. 

We spared them no mercy. Even if they were pleading for their lives saying they’ll give up information, their cries fell on deaf ears as they were stabbed and ripped apart by the grieving Wolfkin.

I understood their pain so I didn’t bother trying to stop them, I know I’m capable of cruel things but I’ll never be this cruel.

Those guys were horrifying monsters.

Then finally, I appeared in front of a building being consumed by purplish-black flames. It was the secret laboratory. Right beside it, were graves of all those who were killed. We didn’t know some of their names so there were a few who only had rocks placed as headstones. 

Sigh, how I wish I could forget all this. I’m starting to hate full moons. Making me remember stuff I want to forget.]

[Day XX, Month XX, Year XXX]

[Ah, it seems I reached peak popularity these past few weeks. Everywhere I go I feel eyes of disgust and disdain. Yep, it seems me refusing to become a hero is finally having its drawbacks. 

The servants of the castle and the nobles of the Council can kiss my ass for all I care. 

I’ve done what was supposed to be done the first go around. I saved their asses from almost being enslaved so I think I deserve a vacation. 

So let them hate. I like to see what they’re going to say about me.] 

[Day XX, Month XX, Year XXX]

[...Damn, whoever can come up with these rumors are good. Some of them even hurt a little.]

[Day XX, Month XX, Year XXX]

[Fatass and his son Renaldo, kudos to those malicious rumors my guys. You roasted my ass well.]

[Day XX, Month XX, Year XXX]

[I got called a good person today. It was from an elderly nun who was in the middle of the street asking for donations. 

Her name was Moya and she worshipped Soele, who’s the goddess of mercy and redemption. She was a kind old lady, her smile was gentle, making me feel at ease.

However, this made me reject the words she said today even more.

I don’t consider myself a good person. If I had to evaluate myself I’d be a good, bad person. 

A good person wouldn’t shoot at someone as they're walking down the street, a good person wouldn’t rob a person and beat that said person when they wouldn’t cough up the money, a good person wouldn’t kill people and burn their corpses to dust without batting an eye, a good person wouldn’t plan the assassination of a certain fatass and his sack of shit worth of a son.

Would a good person do any of these things? 

No, I don’t think so.  

It’s like being praised for something that you're not. Her words made me feel uncomfortable.

...But I can’t deny, her words also made me feel warm inside. Is it hypocritical to accept this warm feeling? A bad guy liking the fact that he’s praised as a good person? 

I don’t even know what to think.

Sigh, hopefully, time will tell. However long that takes.]

85