There was this one person in my life that I regret as having ever met, and worst about it is, -I had to be under the same roof as them for at least five years.
Without going into the details, it was just simply intolerable. The constant feel of being unwelcome in your own home, the antagonistic eyes watching, waiting for you to make a single mistake. And when that happens, they'll never let up the topic until they've made sure your day would be pretty effed up at the end of the day. Self-Help authors, Life Coaches and Enlightened Gurus would all tell me that this is my opportunity to rise up above the crap that's being thrown at me at a daily basis. And that was my mind set for the first several months. But all is subject to change, and that's where I got a taste of the Dark Side.
I didn't even need Darth Sidious to nudge me on. |
I simply couldn't hold it in anymore, and since getting into actual fisticuffs wasn't really my thing, I did the thing I knew best... -I pulled out my malice and turned it into a curse.
I took some twist-tie wires and formed the shape of a person, got some black yarn and wrote the most goddamed-seethingly malicious sigil I've ever written. Calling up the self-discovered/created entity I called The Shadow Prince (overly cheesy and cliche', I know) and asked him to power my working. I proceeded in chanting the mantra I've formulated, and twisting the black yarn around the wire poppet, while I bathed in the sensation of my anger and hatred. Then, at the peak of Gnosis, I picked up a sharpened and runed popsicle stick and stabbed it right into poppet, visualizing the Prince's silver arrows piercing through that Person's chest, making them rot inside.
At the end of it, I covered the poppet and the runed popsicle stick in a bit of cloth and threw it into a ditch somewhere.
Three days later, that person who hurt my brother and mother, suddenly came in complaining painful headaches, neck pains. It gradually progressed to her vomiting until there was nothing left to vomit, and her losing consciousness. She was brought to the hospital later that evening.
I was satisfied, but I was also afraid inside. I was afraid of what I could do and what its price would be.
The answer to that question came in three weeks after, where hideous pus-filled boils started growing on my hands and feet. It was painful, and I can't even hold onto anything without my nerves screaming at me. Walking was pure torture, with the same boils also growing on the soles of my feet.
It only started fading away when I was able to keep my own hatred in check, and after attending a few religious meetings (you know, the type of young missionaries that insist on bringing you to their fold).
Ever since then, I had a much clearer understanding of how my actions today will affect my future, do something terrible, and
Neutralize doesn't mean Kill.
-TheBlackSquid
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