I wrote this for an english assignment not long ago, and wondered how people thought it was,
A servant to darkness
Wind howled through the small gaps in the stone hut, waking the sole inhabitant. Abija took several moments to readjust his eyes to the dark interior of the room before leaving the warmth of his bed to begin his morning routine. First was wood, he had to collect kindling and small logs to start and maintain his fire, but there lay his first problem, all the wood was wet from the fresh snow that fell over the night. This problem was easily overcome however because he collected excess wood the day previous which would be dry at this hour because it sat at the foot of his fireplace in his hut.
The next chore he completed was to scavenge for winter foods in his garden, which was made difficult by his teenage weakness. Cabbages and onions were the ingredients he found most perfect for a stew. This is where he spent the rest of the morning, cooking, cleaning and turning the almost frozen soil. After he completed the tasks he needed to survive he made a quick decision to walk the hour into town to gather basic supplies.
He gathered his coins and started down the path that led through the forest. Thick snow covered the edges of the path concealing the multiple rocks and bushes that you can see if it were hotter. Abija picked up his speed when he noticed that the forest was eerily more quiet than it ought to be at this time of the day. There were no birds singing and no deer running through the gullies.
Abija reached one of the small rivers that intercepted his path. This river goes directly to the centre of town and is the main stream that people clean their clothes in. There was a middle aged man sitting on one of the stones on the outside of the river. Abija looked at him for a moment before blinking. The man was no longer there.
Scared and frightened he began running to his destination but tripped on a stone fifty meters down the path. A firm hand caught him before he reached the ground. The man was standing over him, staring with cold black eyes.
"You should watch where you step," His voice sounded like it had an eco. A deep and penetrating eco that seemed to know everything about you and at the same moment nothing at all, like two sides of a coin moulded into one.
"Yes sir," Abija replied, trying not to shake in absolute fear and terror. He refrained from looking the man directly into the eye, too afraid of what might happen if he did, for he was in the presence of the harbinger of death, Nekit. Abija righted himself on his feet before dusting off the dust that his trousers picked up.
"Wait before you go, I have an assignment for you," Nekit tapped Abija's head and he collapsed to the dirt. "There is someone that needs to be exterminated, be sure to clean it up this time, I don't often give second chances," And with that he disappeared into the shadow of a nearby tree.
Abija woke several hours later in clothes that he did not remember changing into. He was in grey and silver robes with a gold dagger strapped where his money used to be. It was dark when he finally decided to begin moving.
Go to the village Abija, The voice made him jump several feet into the air, and a feeling of vertigo overcame him when he tried to go home.
Just leave me alone! He tried to mentaly scream at the man he saw, before giving in after several minutes of trying to leave. When he got closer to the village the feeling of throwing up left him immediately. He looked down on the town for a moment and began to cry. Why did it always have to be him, he thought, why was this responsibility always put to him.
Go to the house on the far east of the village,
Abija shouldn't have resisted, for he was no longer in control of his movements, like a puppet that was supposed to be for children but instead was just painted over an old serial killer, but with no strings attached. Tears still streaking down his cheek, he began to move towards the house.
Against his will, Abija opened the door to the small cottage. There was no creak from the rusted hinges and no one in the hall that greeted him. The sound of a new born baby could be heard from his position.
He snuck up the corridor to the room the sound was coming from and opened the door. There were two beds in the room. Both were occupied, one with what seemed to be a young married couple, the other with a child staring at him.
The child was white. Whiter than paper, and had eyes associated with the colour of roses, this child needed to be removed. This is what Nekit wanted, he wanted all children that looked like his brother terminated.
Abija's legs moved with a mind of their own, and he drew the dagger. The child just looked at him with big innocent eyes almost asking what he was doing. Abija let fresh tears come from his eyes as he brought the knife down on the child's jugular vein, a quick and almost painless knife moved through the skin like a hot knife through butter, bringing to light the fact that it could take off your finger with a light tap. Blood flowed out of the wound at incredible speeds. A wave of thick scarlet liquid flowed onto the white linen of the bed, it turned black under the candlelight.
Abija regained control of his limbs as soon as the child's heart stopped beating. He took one quick look around the room before running all the way back to his little stone hut.
When emotions came back in the morning- when he had cried off the regret of the night- he sensed the emotion of half sadness, half regret, for the deed he had involuntarily committed; for it was, a bone crushing feeling, and the mind tarnished forever. He went into hiding alone, and had soon drowned in the regret of what he commited.