Smile of the death

Miriamel saw a young woman as if she was viewing from the ceiling. She saw the girl trembling, her body was shaking as she sobbed desperately, and Miriamel, the viewer, had no idea why. Miriamel gazed at the room. It seemed like she was in an ancient throne room. The girl was laying down on the marble floor, right next to the throne. She was holding in her arms a young man, who looked like he had been stabbed to death. Her blue silk robe was slowly changing color as it was soaking in the youths blood. Miriamel couldnít see the girls face, because she was pressing her head almost aggressively at his chest. The sight was so miserable that it took a while until Miriamel could turn her gaze away, and see what else was in the room.

There were signs of battle everywhere. No. Battle was not the right word, it was more like a massacre. There was a gaping hole in the wall. The stone seemed to have melted around the hole. There were pieces of burned flesh and some lumps that Miriamel couldnít recognize as humans. A woman was laying near the hole. Her back was against the wall and she was crouching over a child. Her clothes had been burned but it looked like she was wearing long sleeves. It took a while from Miriamel to realize that the things she thought were sleeves was actually her burned skin. Skin was hanging from the womanís fingertips creating the illusion of long sleeves. There were some soldiers who seemed to be killed at once, and some who didnít had had such luxury.

The carpet was tainted whit blood and dust. The dust was an odd combination of ash and sand. Young soldier, more like a boy than a man, had been slain so brutally that Miriamel felt the vomit forcing its way up her throat. His insides had been ripped out and there were pieces of intestine trying to escape between his fingers which were solidified on his pierced abdomen. But the worst was his face, his look of horror as he had realized the end was coming. That same expression was echoing from all the faces as if it had been a sound in a deep canyon. Miriamel couldnít take it anymore, she forced her eyes off from the dead and focused her sight to the sobbing girl. As she did that, she realized something odd. The girl had raised her face. Even though it was striped by blood, Miriamel couldnít help the feeling, that she knew the face and she wondered why. Suddenly she realized, where she had seen that face before, it was what she saw when ever she looked in a mirror.

What was going on? Why did she saw herself down there even though she wasnít there? Had she been ripped of her body like some useless part of it? Useless soul, was that indeed all she was? She was amazed by the thought and suddenly came up with a logical explanation; she was dreaming. Though this dream felt more like a nightmare. As she convinced herself that it was all a dream, the dream didnít seem so realistic, she could even watch the residues of the youth without feeling ill. It was all an illusion after all, so why should she feel bad about it?

"You look lovely as usual, your highness", a cold voice sneered from the darkness. A young man stepped forwards and as the playful shadows moved over, exposing his handsome face, Miriamel saw the girls expression change from one end to another. Instead of massive sorrow, was hate, so pure that Miriamel felt horrified to see such thing on a face that looked like her own. The girl did not answer to the greeting, she didnít need to. Her expression answered better than any spoken language.

"I see you are still holding a grudge against me, your highness," he said as he walked to her. "Or should I say my bride?" he continued as he lifted her up and draw her to his arms. The girl struggled but she didnít had enough strength. All she could do was glare at him, as she seemed to had lost the ability to speak. The man smiled and his eyes glimmered maliciously. He kissed her and didnít seem to care about her tries to pull back. As he withdraw to catch his breath, Miriamel saw blood on his lips. The girl had bitten as hard as she could but he looked as if he hadnít noticed it. Miriamel tried to look away tried to concentrate her thoughts on something else, but it was hard. She could hear the girl, who screamed at the man who was ripping her clothes off, and even worse she could hear the man as he laughed violently.

Suddenly something horrible happened, Miriamel felt as if she was tugged towards the girl, and before Miriamel realized it, she had returned her body. It was her, Miriamel, who struggled desperately, it was her voice that screamed of terror, her lips which tasted the blood. Her body which felt the pain as his hands roughly explored her. It was her fear, her tears. She felt such pain, such lack of strength and humiliation, as he molested her that she just couldnít take it. Anything would be better than being raped by this arrogant man who he didnít even know. Anything, even death. Miriamel turned her back to the man, but he didnít seem to care. Her eyes spotted a sword that had been forsaken near her. She moved slowly towards the sword in his grip. He didnít notice. Soon she could reach the sword. Whit out hesitation she grabbed the sword and pierced her stomach in order to kill the man. The violent laugh turned into a yelp of pain as the edge made its way through her and continued its way to him.

"Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back", Miriamel said as the warmth escaped her body. She smiled.