• Am I absolved of the sins that I have created?

    The heartbeat inside of me echoed. Once, twice, three times. . . Over and over. But this was not what I wanted. I desired, I craved. . . I was addicted to the notion of death. The broken, hollow heartbeat inside of me did this body of mine no justice. The heart I possessed beat like a sickened and diseased machine, and my mind even more so. I could not feel my arms, legs or fingers, but I knew they were there. My entire body was numb, save for the sickening heartbeat and my sluggish thoughts.

    Wrapped in the sins of shadows, I lay myself bare.

    It was cold. I was cold. It helped to ease some of the creaking of the disgusting heartbeat inside of me. All around me, night pressed in against my broken body. No stars glimmered in the sky, no moon to cast a light upon my shattered visage. Midnight was approaching, an ancient time that burrowed deep under my skin and radiated in my soul. The ancient hour, where I would become a Goddess. Minutes and seconds would stretch for eternity as shadows wrapped around my mind, body and soul with a dusty, powerful embrace.

    The coldness of my skin melted a fraction of an inch, and I stared down at myself. Red. Crimson. Vermilion. It had different names. Copper. Metallic. Revolting. It had different smells. My blood dripped down onto the road where I had seated myself, defeated and exhausted. I could not quite remember how I had gotten on the road -- alas, the memory seemed to be clouded in a thick fog. The blood, however, managed to warm my senses enough to remind me that I was wounded, and. . . Uncomfortable?

    Yes. The road was hard and cold, and I had been seated on it for quite some time. The pain I felt in my legs from loss of circulation felt far away and distant, thankfully. I could not feel the injuries that made me bleed heavily, and I didn't care to. Pain would distract me from what I wanted; what I needed. Like a junkie addicted to a drug, the shadows promised me my next hit of power. All I had to do was wait.

    Under the sky of crimson and dust, I purge myself for thee.

    My eyes slipped shut, and I dozed. Time blurred as my tired body teetered on the verge of death and life, and I loved it. My diseased heart quickened with anticipation as I leaned further and deeper into the void. Every time, however, my soul would pull me back just enough for life to continue. It enraged me to no end, but I was a patient girl. I could wait a few minutes longer.

    Under thine divine rule I do see absolute peace and serenity.

    Excitement poured through me as I felt the shadows beginning to stir. So seductive and powerful. . . How could human harness this? Folly. Stupidity. I did not harness it, I became it. The monster they mistook me for was nothing more than a hallucination. In this realm, I was the Goddess and the Divine Ruler. I was the Judge, the Executioner. To believe themselves above my power was nothing more than wishful thinking. Oh, the nightmares I would pull them into. . . I would wrap them in lies made of my silky shadows and drag them to Hell, addicting them to the power I sought every night.

    Speaking of night. . . The midnight hour was growing closer. Minutes away. The shadows stirred restlessly, growling and demanding release. Not yet, I had to say, now is not the time. Like razors, the energy inside of me continued to build until I felt so full I was about to explode. I did not care. The ancient hour was controlling my thoughts, my actions, oh, how utterly beautiful the midnight hour--

    "Filthy demon!" A voice hissed at me through the darkness.

    Opening my eyes slowly (how dare he strip death from me), I gazed into the heavy night coating the air around me. My vision was blurry, breaths nothing more than light pants. Still I bled, and I functioned as a human. I was not yet the Judge. A man stood before me, dressed in heavy clothing meant to smother the chill of midnight. I had to suppress a smile -- human wiles would not stop the cold. He held a gun out at me, aimed at my head.

    Heaven's bounty holds no wonder; Hell does not invoke fear within mine mind. Only you possess my love and vitality.

    "It's because of you that they're dead! I'll kill you!" He nearly shouted, raged coating every word. I loved it. It promised me a quicker end to my humanity and a quicker greeting to the ancient hour.

    "I did nothing." My mouth moved, the words fumbled and slurred -- blood loss, no doubt. My words only sought to enrage him even more.

    "I saw what you did! Too bad that little shadow trick won't work on me. . ." He snickered, promising pain and torture and screams. It did not scare me.

    "Under your Rule I lay, as whatever you demand will me mine to give, my liege." I responded evenly, mind becoming calmer, wider, more. My diseased heartbeat quickened.

    He had none of this.

    "Rot in hell, monster!" He screamed, pulling the trigger.

    I did not see the bullet, but I felt it. I felt it penetrate my skull, and a sharp pain. My muscles refused to work, and I remember slumping onto the ground. I knew this because I felt the cold pavement of the road biting into my cheek. Much as it infuriated me, I was not dead. Not with the midnight hour so close. . . Bullets would not stop me.

    . . . all around me, screams and pain and fear. My entire body shook like a leaf in a storm as I did my best to help fight them off, but I was too weak. Too scared. Everybody I knew was dying, and I was helpless to stop it. Selfishly clinging to my own life, I tried what I could to help fight -- but it was not enough! Never enough. My own strength was pitiful against their sciences and guns.

    "Get out! Rune, just run!" A voice called, snapping me from my musings. Hardly a time to think in a situation like this. . .

    But I couldn't. I was frozen. Scared. Terrified. Fear has many names. A knife arced through the air and slashed at me, cutting open my skin. Shock melted into pain, and I nearly crumpled to a heap on the floor as it washed over me. Pain fueled my rage, and in the next second my hand shot out and wrapped around my assailant's neck. My skin was wrapped in shadows and formed a giant, taloned claw. The man wheezed once before I snapped his neck in two.

    Only then, only after I had protected my own hide, did I run.

    Midnight.

    The ancient hour had arrived, and I was now dead.

    Euphoria filled me as the shadows I possessed blended with my soul, twisting it, cracking it, shaping it into something much, much more beautiful. It was agony, it was beauty, it was horrid, it was pleasure. The shadows brought many feelings with them as they wrapped around my mind with inky black tendrils. Power flowed through me as the darkness claimed my mind, changed my soul into something. . . Something more.

    The midnight hour had arrived. With it came the clarity of death, and the obscure which was life.

    Never doubt my loyalty, for thine Rule is fairer and more Just than any I have ever known.

    And so it should be.

    The human before me cringed in sudden horror as I rose. The bullet had exited my skull, and the shadows had healed my body. The injuries dotted along my skin had healed over as well, leaving nothing but perfect, unmarred flesh. My hands fell to my sides as I rose to my feet, eyes trained onto the ground. The blood all over the road began to flake off and float into the air, and the shadows fleshed them out. Inky tendrils wrapped around my legs, slithering up my legs with every intent of power.

    I tilted my head up to look at the man who'd shot me. Oh, how I hated him. Humans and their false pretenses. They had once created me, had created the people I loved. But now. . . Now he was terrified. He had no family, no person on this earth would miss him -- and he knew it. A wicked smile twisted on my face, teeth elongating into petrifying sharp points.

    "And through your Hand I shall lend you the power which rightfully belongs to thee."

    He screamed. He tried to run, but my shadows pinned him to the concrete. He clambered away, scared of losing life, of his soul to me. But my decisions were my own, for I was the Goddess and the Judge. He held no power over the ancient times I kept. I guarded them closely as the shadows bid, and they, in turn, granted me whatever power I asked for.

    I was immortal.

    The shadows twisted over my body, changing me into a beast. Thin, inky-black and bony. The bones popped through the shadowy skin and the man could see my ribs and my spine. The clawed talons fit over my shadowy hands, and my legs stretched and grew, along with my torso and arms. I stood over eight feet tall now, red eyes blazing at the man who had dared to kill my brethren. . . Kill me.

    If I absolve myself of the sins I have caused, retribution shall be mine.

    I descended upon him, not allowing him to scream as I tore him to shreds. I clawed, I bit, I ripped and tore and shredded. Blood coated me as I sated my fury, letting the hour of ancient times increase my power. Finally, finally, I finished. I stepped away from him, and the shadows sank off of my body, leaving me to look exactly like the human girl I was. My eyes flashed a red color only once as I stared at the bloody smear, and then I turned and began to walk.

    Through man's nature are monsters born, and through monster's natures, man is destroyed.

    I walked aimlessly, but not without purpose. When the sun hit the horizon, I would be left without the shadows to aid me. My heart would be diseased, my body and will broken once more. Right then, however, guided until the eternal seconds and minutes of midnight, my body is safe. No longer is my heart broken or my mind fractured by fear. I will wake up with no memory of being the Goddess or the Executioner. At the end of the midnight hour, I will crave the death that will release me from my curse, addicted to the notion that death is the only blessing.

    The humans might come to understand this in the near future, I brooded. They might realize that I might be something more than human. . . My weakness lies in the midnight hour itself.

    My feet brought me to the place of murder, where my kin had been slaughtered. When I ruled as the Executioner and Divine Ruler, time was frozen. Even now, they laid upon the floor, wounded and bleeding and dead. Although the shadows were my power, I still possessed a human heart yearning for human things.

    So I healed them. I tethered their souls to their bodies and killed the humans still standing. Satisfied with my work, the shadows pulsed with a heavy satisfaction at what I had done. Eager to please them, I felt proud as well, and I seated myself in the middle of the room. A room that had once held carnage and destruction. No longer.

    "Ring around the rose, pocket full of pose, ashes, ashes we all fall down." The song tumbled from my lips with a giggle of a child, coming out perverted and warped as the power inside of my body laced my voice. There was no Judgement for me to pass, or souls for me to purge. So I sat there, among the bodies of my brothers and sisters and rested.

    Every second brought me closer to dawn, where I would lose the gift of shadows. Where I would be a mortal girl with no power to Rule over the midnight hour. I would crave death and not understand why, I would whisper to the shadows and hope they would respond. . . But that was then. And now was now.

    Believe in thine power; for thine is the purest and strongest of all.

    I closed my eyes and I slept.

    Dawn crept over the land.


    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    "It was a mistake to create them." Dr. Johnson vented, glaring heatedly at the professor running the show. He hated the man. Professor Rovski had no soul, and no conscience as far as Dr. Johnson thought. Johnson had seen some pretty soulless things in his Marine days, but Rovski and his whole lot took the cake. Rovski gave a muted shrug of the shoulders.

    "We are learning from them. In time, we will develop better subjects. It appears, though, that Subject Zero will not tolerate the eradication of her so-called Kin."

    The girl in question slept in a room just to the left. A large plate of glass allowed doctors and soldiers to peer in, although they wouldn't desire to. Rune, Johnson had to secretly seethe to himself, her name is Rune.

    She was strapped to a medical table and currently under the influence of several powerful sedatives. Even then, she was not asleep. Sluggish and slow to communicate, maybe, but she was most definitely awake. Almost as if she were waiting for something. Occasionally she would mumble to herself and look at something that they couldn't see. . . Like she was talking with an imaginary friend.

    Rovski gave another sigh and then turned to Johnson, "Go in and preform a pre-examination check. Double-check the lists if you need to. I want to make sure that the next test goes along according to plan without any security breaches." Not even bothering with a backwards glance, the man moved away from Rune's room and downt he hallway, out of sight. Johnson gnashed his teeth together as he snatched the clipboard off the wall.

    Taking a quick moment to compose himself, he placed his hand on the door of her room and opened it. Johnson was a nice guy -- he loved the kids. He wished that none of the experiments had ever happened, and that he'd known about them sooner to prevent it. . . But a single man like Johnson wasn't on the top of the food chain. So he didn't get to know about things first.

    Rune's gaze immediately flew to him, sending a rogue shiver up his spine. She should not be able to appear so intense under all of the heavy sedation. It was near the impossible. . . But then again, the kids did a lot of things that most scientists (and people in general) found or thought impossible. Johnson strode forward easily, smiling gently and checking the IV inputs, making sure the restraints weren't too tight, and seeing if she was hurt.

    The kids all liked Johnson, too. He was somebody that they could trust. But Rune. . . Rune didn't trust anybody.

    "I'm not going to kill you." She said suddenly, causing Johnson to pause as he checked her vitals. He stared at her, unable to grasp what she had said for a moment. She stared back, eyes calm and collected. Johnson opened his mouth to respond, but Rune beat him to it.

    "I won't kill you, for you have not earned the Judgement of shadows. You have healed my Kin, and for this I am grateful. When midnight begins. . . You will be spared."

    Johnson felt fear clench in his gut as he saw a demonic reddish gleam dance about in her eyes, and the image of shadows and blood and horrible things -- and then it was gone. He didn't mean to, and it was embarrassing for the ex-Marine to admit, but he got out of there pretty damn fast. Seeing s**t like that scared the hell out of him, and considering they were running a skeleton crew due to the time of night. . . Oh. The impulse seemed childish, but he couldn't help himself. He took the quickest peek at his watch.

    Midnight. . . Midnight was just shy of thirty minutes away.