A Fathers Revenge

 A Fathers Revenge 

The ocean sits idle as I creep along this sandy coast. The castles highest peak breaches the clouds like a mountain. It is an intimidating and wonderful site, but much evil falls from the walls of this castle. As I near the closest point of the beach at the base of the castle, I can feel an ominous touch caress my surroundings.

 I feel my bones chill and my skin percolate with goosebumps. Even my horse, reacts with strange and unusual nuances. I grip her rein tightly to calm her with a few gentle strokes across the bridge of her head. 

 After a bit, she calms down. I then look her in the eyes and I can still see something is frighting her. But she is now doing her best to stay calm and listen. After the ominous touch, we approach the very base of the castle. 

 Looking up, I can no longer see the top of the tower anymore. The clouds cover what was once visible. My view blocked, I remove the hook shot from my back, tie my horse, Lily, to a near by stone. But far enough from the coast so she is not battered by the frigid waters.

 I then swing the rope of the hook-shot and toss it as high as I can. It latches to edge. I then climb up the rope and repeat the process for three hundred feet. Most would be tired, but I have spent the past ten years honing my strength and skills. 

 As I climb birds can be seen circling above. Waiting for me to fall, their eyes thirst for fresh flesh. Some birds even fly by me, tempting me to let go. But I stay my course, I climb and climb. Till I reach my destination.

 Once I reach the lowest entrance of the castle, I roll up the rope and hook and hide it beneath a bundle of trees just a few yards from the entrance. The entrance is a drainage line, a wretched smell wafts from the entrance. 
 No need for guards they think, as none are foolish enough to venture through such disgust. But my revenge is what sustains me through this horrid time. My daughters death will not be without justice, without a hero's attempt of redemption. 

 I failed her once, but I will not fail her again. Hiding the rope and hook I keep an eye for anything suspicious. Once the rope and hook are hidden I pull a rag from my pocket and drench it in a puddle a few feet from me. 

 I then wrap it around my face in hopes this will diminish the smell of the sewage. I carefully make my way to the sewage line and venture it. It is humid and smells of pure human waste. The rancid humidity sticks to me like sweat. 

 I feel as if I am layered now in filth after only a couple yards in. I make my way through the sewage line. It is dark, but I have memorized the sewer plans well. I keep my right hand on the wall and feel my way through. 

 After an hour or so I finally reach my destination. I can hear voices coming from the exit, or rather entrance. I quietly approach the end of the sewer line. It is the sewer line to the Kings own personal bathroom. 

 I hear him talking, mumbling among a few others. As I gain my position, I start to hear the Kings voice become enraged. I step close enough to the end line of the sewer and look up, a slight beam of light seeps through. 

 It is flickering from who ever is walking about the Kings chambers with him. I then hear all the voices become riled. I remain still as I try to make out what they are saying, but I it is too muffled to hear anything coherent.

 As I stand and wait patiently with utter grievance of anger, I prep my weapon. It is a collapsible spear, nine feet long. Each piece of the spear is three feet. I clip them together and lace down the spear head. I feel the sharp edge of the spear. I then ready the spear in my hand as I wait. 

 Suddenly, the voices grow cold. The King's door is slammed shut by what I assume are angry allies. I then hear the King scuffling about as his voices pitches with frustration. I then hear a door swing open. The once slight beam of light floods into the sewer. 

 The King has finally entered his bathroom. I squeeze the spear even tighter in my hands. I replay in my head what is about to happen. I hear the king mumble, he then lifts the seat to his toilet, I can see clearly now. 

 I can see his silhouette as he hovers for a moment over the toilet. I adjust the spear to the correct angle for the perfect penetration. The king promptly adjusts his clothes and releases his pants to the floor. He sits, an uncomfortable sound is released. I do my best to ignore it. My eyes start to water. 

 The light is now dimmed, I can only see what little light seeps in from the shifting of the kings body. I then say a pray for my daughter. Then, I relive the moment of my daughters death, as I play the moment in my head. I am over come with hateful thoughts toward the kind. I then thrust the spear upward into the kings body. At first there is slight resistance. 

 I press my arms up with more intensity. I hear the king scream, he turns to stand but the spear is into deep. Blood starts showering upon my face. I also feel blood seep down my spear like warm rain, I can feel my hands becoming soaked.

 I remain steady, I react to the kings movement. Keeping the spear firmly in his body. After a minute of fighting, the king grows weak. He collapses from blood loss. I then bend my knees just a little and leap into the air. Forcing the spear to exit the kings body just behind his head.

 I quickly let go of the spear and make my way out. I reach the exit, human excrement is soaked in my shoes and clothes, I remove them and make my way back down the mountain. I reach Lily, undo a luggage case upon her side and place on new clothes. 

 I then look to her in her eyes and say, "That king will no longer be around to abuse and murder little girls anymore. I hope you are resting well in heaven my dearest Lily."
What would you do for a loved one if they wrongly harmed?

Find more stories in, A Man's Traveled Heart
Coming soon, The Bleeding of Words

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