Reese solo

I’ve been told writing a journal is a good way to deal with trauma. I’m sure that might be true for some people, but writing right now is really hard because, well, I’ve got one hand to work with. Writing is hard with one hand, which only reminds me of the trauma I’m trying to dismiss. Ironic, right?

Anyways. I’m Reese now. No, I won’t tell mention who I was before. It’s been about six months since I, well, changed myself. I won’t get into that, it doesn’t matter.

What *does* matter, though, is the story I want to tell. I want to explain what my goals are and why I have those goals. It all started six or so months ago, like I said. I was minding my own business serving drinks at a bar I worked at, everything was normal during the day. When I got done working I walked home like any normal person would, but that was when I was jumped by a big mob of men wearing purple robes and gold masks, and they somehow weren’t suspicious beforehand.

These men (or women, I dunno what they were) clamped my beak shut, ripped off my clothes and bound me up. I didn’t have time to react at all before they knocked me out. I. . . Don’t know what they did to me while I was out. I was naked, so I can only assume some stuff went on.

When I came to, I was on a sort of altar or operating table-like thing. It was definitely an altar, but it was kinda both I guess. My arms and legs were strapped in a spread eagle position. I didn’t notice it immediately when I woke up because my head was killing me, but they definitely did something to me while I was out outside of anything sexual.

My whole body ached, but as my senses returned the pain focused in one part. My left arm. Or what was left of it. While I was out they chopped it off, but at least they had the courtesy to crudely bandage it. I’m joking of course. But. . . Fuck, the blood. . . There was still so much of it, and the pain was overwhelming. My beak was still bound so I couldn’t scream aloud, but I cried like a bitch.

I don’t remember everything clearly from here, but I’m going to try my best to explain the scene and what happened after. I was in some sort of basement room or castle or something. It was dark for the most part, aside from what can only be explained as a summoning circle in the middle of the room. Usually those are for demons, right? But this one didn’t look that way. It was strangely beautiful, and it glowed a deep gold I’ve never seen before. The figures that abducted me lined the circle as you’d expect, with one in the middle holding out a wrapped offering of some sort. I realize now that was my arm. I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened to me if I was there any longer. Did they want to offer me to this thing piece by piece or something?

Oh, but I forgot to mention the biggest thing I could remember. Inside the circle was a swirling golden mass— probably a portal to this demon or deity’s realm. That’s where they were offering my arm. Things are even more fuzzy from here, so here is the basic chain of events as I remember them:

First, the tall figure in the center offered the sacrifice to the portal thing. As soon as it entered the golden mass, things started happening. I was still in immense pain, but I suddenly felt something in my nonexistent hand. It sounds weird, but I made the mental movement to grasp onto whatever it was. I have no idea what exactly happened after that, the light was so bright. And the light was coming from me.

I woke up sometime after, the whole place smelled like smoke. From what it looked like, the people closest to me got vaporized, only their ugly golden masks remained. Not all of them were dead though, I knew that as I saw footprints in the dirt floor leading out of the chamber. I want to reiterate: the pain was still there, it hadn’t subsided (it still hasn’t, but I’m used to it now), but the wound was. . . different. The bandages had burned off completely and there was no longer blood dripping from my stump arm.

I can’t explain it well using words, I’m not a very good writer. But I’ll try my best. My stump was and still does emit a sort of ichorous golden essence that seems to defy gravity. It’s my blood, but it doesn’t stain things like you’d expect. I can’t explain it, like I said.

As much as I hate to say it I actually gained a few things that day aside from all that I lost. I can still feel whatever it is in my left hand, and I’m able to somehow draw magical power from whatever it is. Also, my blood is gold now.

This is getting long and my hand is starting to hurt, so I’ll wrap it up. I go by Reese now, but I’m still not entirely set on this identity for myself. I guess I’ll figure that out as time goes on. My new goal in life is to go the way of the adventurer. I need to travel to find this fucking cult that dared to do this to me, and to make them pay. I *will* make them pay.