Either way, I'm not letting any of that happen.
So, where was I? Oh yeah, they freeze, and then turn slowly to stare at me. And, like, I can't really see their faces because of the black masks, but let's just imagine the looks on their faces, seeingmestanding there giving orders. Me, in a potato sack, covered in shit, with shackles on my wrists.
One guy actually lets out what sounds like a tortured laugh.
Then the biggest one, the leader, I'm guessing, pulls out his sword and reaches me in two steps. "You'll make a nice appetizer, then, won't you," he says in a super creepy voice.
Okay to be honest his voice is pretty normal, but come on, bad guys (and we'll go ahead and use guys for this because they are in fact male) should look and sound like bad guys. It's a pity, really, that they don't.
"Oh, you won't like me. I'm scrawny and chewy. Likely to get stuck in your throat." And with that, I use my shackles to grab his sword, pulling it in as my knee inflicts the most damage to the bits of him he was hoping to use soon.
He groans and slumps over and I chuckle. "Won't be needing that for awhile now." I give another kick for good measure, as his two friends lunge towards me, swords swinging.
Just what I wanted.
Now this next part… well, it's going to really come down to a lot of luck and some skill. So say a prayer if you're inclined. Or at least, wish me luck.
Cuz I'm gonna need it.
With the mastery of my craft, I throw myself at the first man, positioning my wrist so that they are in the direct line of his blade trajectory.
It happens so fast.
I blink and it's done.
My hands fall from my arms, like mannequin parts that weren't properly installed. I'm in such shock I don't even feel the pain at first. I think everyone in the room is a bit stunned to be honest, as my lifeless bloody hands land on the hardwood floor with a wet thump.
Then the little girl screams, galvanizing everyone into action.
So, the bad news, I'm losing blood fast and the adrenaline won't keep the pain away for long.
The good news? I'm free of my shackles. That was the plan. I can't die until my Renewal comes back to me. For that, I needed the shackles off. There might have been smarter ways to go about this, but none that would have saved this family in time.
And now, for phase two.
I pivot, avoiding a blow to my neck from the pointy side of a sword, as I reach into myself, searching for the spark I learned to recognize as my Renewal.
After my first death, I didn't die again for a few years, but I practiced with it, practiced sensing it in meditation and worked to understand the limitations and nature of it. When Uncle Sly felt I was ready, we began to test my abilities.
By killing me in different ways to see how I would Renew. To see how long I took to recover. To learn how to best gauge my abilities.
It was a strange kind of training. One I didn't talk much about with others. But it worked.
And so I strained to find my center before blood loss or one of these goons made that a moot point. And… there! Yes. It's back. I know it is.
And just in time.
Because holy mother of all shit balls, the pain has hit. Mayday, mayday, abort! This is awful. What was I thinking? I need to die, stat.
With a howl that could scare a wild bear, I leap at the closest sword, impaling myself on it with precious aim. Gotta hit the heart, or I could just be screwed instead of killed.
With a triumphant smile, I spit in the eyes of the man holding the sword I'm now hanging from, as my heart beats for the last time.
I Renew just outside the hut.
There's a moment of discombobulation that I've gotten used to over the years. The feeling of new skin, as it were, and of being someplace you weren't just a moment before.
But I recover quickly.