Charge the dark lord

You fling yourself through the observation window and collide with the dark lord atop his throne. Hands wringing his throat, you both tumble backwards and a scuffle ensues. He rolls on top of you, and the stench of his sweaty rolls hits you like a brick. The weight alone threatens to crush your ribcage. Nauseated and breathless, you muster a final scream of courageous hate. The dark lord yelps and scratches at your eyes, but you kick him in the groin, forcing him to roll away. You clamber toward him, grabbing a golden chalice which you hold aloft before bringing it down right upon your adversary’s skull. The dark lord’s head caves inward and spasms wrack his body as his life is extinguished.

 

Triumph! You pull loosened feathers from your wings as you stand before the wrecked body of the evil master. A sense of complete satisfaction washes over you, but this feeling of victory gives way to confusion pretty quickly.

 

Why are you here? Why did you kill this man? Surely he was evil, but the exhilaration of your first kill is matched by a sudden remorse.

 

You awaken suddenly in your bedroom. Your mother’s book lays open before you. You have to remember not to play with that thing when there is work to be done. You stand up, experience a brief wave of nausea before remembering your purpose.