Gorcha Origin (Story)

A JUNGLE - LOCATION UNKNOWN

11:20 P.M.

AUGUST 28TH.

There was some weird things going around at this time, let me tell you. The blade keeps telling me about things to decapitate, but how do I decapitate plant-people?

From what I've seen, that only kills the flowers. Stupid halberd seems to be mocking my lack of a head. Now he's asking that I kill a pumpkin-head one, Torcher or something.

I don't know what it expects me to do, as I asked it about other methods of killing-a favorite of mine was trying to make it into some weird food-but it refused each time, saying I had to chop its head off.

I'm glad you, at least, agree with me...

...Of course you do, I'm talking to myself. Aren't I crazy.

I don't get why I do this all the time. I lack a head to even be conversing with, yet I still am able to see and speak, so I guess I may as well.

Aha, there's the bastard the blade wanted. Borch or whatever.

I'll approach the idiot, see if I can trick him into killing himself.

"Ahoy, there!" I'll greet him in my normal way, acting a bit like a pirate. People love sailors, it's a known fact of life.

The thing's speaking. "Hm? Who the hell are you?" Who the hell am I? I'm your murderer, in a few minutes.

"Aye, I'm just a sailor, lad! Was hoping you could do me a favor, see?" "...Sure." Idiot.

I'll place the halberd right behind this bush, distracting him with some hand motions on my other hand. "See these motions, right 'ere? They're a sailor's blessin'! Ya look like y'needed a bit more luck, like a bad day, so I'm gonna help ya!" To be honest, I don't even know sign language. He probably doesn't either.

"...Yeah, I could go for one. Day's been hard, y'know..." He's trying to go on about his day. Oh god.

I'll spare you from hearing it, me, except you're gonna hear it anyways. Except we'll ignore him, won't we, me?

"I'm, terribly sorry to hear that, lad. 'Ere, lemme try ta' make it all better, with the blessin'. Lie down 'ere, aye?" I showed him a patch of dirt that I had ripped the grass off of. Took me a damn while, but that's what the stupid axe wanted me to do.

He listened-of course he would, I'm a master of persuasion-and lied down on the dirt. "Why do I have to do this? N-not, not that I'm complaining, of course! Just curious." He's getting cold feet, and he doesn't even have feet. "Aye, don't worry 'bout that, lad. Lemme jus' get my blessin' rod."

I went over to where I stashed that damn axe, and held it up upside-down, the blade hidden in the bush. "This be my blessin' rod, just gotta tap y'with it!" I tapped his head, and then crouched down a bit. "Now, close yer eyes, while I do my mojo-magic." He complied, and I took out the halberd, it glowing with spectral green fire as it prepared to end this fool.

"Hey, uh, when ca-" He opened one eye! Fuck! Even so, I slammed the halberd down, cutting his head off, but it had quickly move enough so that it didn't cut through the vine, just the pumpkin. "Bilgerat, you should've lay still!" I swung at him again, and he began to grapple with my arms, his vines constricting me. This idiot is trying to outpower me, the mighty Haydnik?! I'll show him a thing or two!

As he tried to constrict my limbs, I began ripping him into pieces like an old napkin, tearing him apart methodically, carefully. "If'n' I can't kill ya' the easy way, I'll tear ya' ta' pieces th' hard way!" HahahahAHAHAHA! Now I remember why I love this job!"

\*

[And so the fool's thoughts will end here, for they are all babbling.]

[Let's get the perspective of the real winner, here, the 'stupid axe'.]

[As he cackled to himself, tearing the body to pieces, I began to perform the real reasons as to why I wanted him here, slashing bits of a tree I knew was heavy enough to crush both of them.]

[The fool turned around mere moments before it slammed down, robbing him of his consciousness, as I spun around and put the pumpkin over to him like a golf ball. The bottom of it is cut off. Perfect.]

[I placed it where his head cavity was, and made ceremonial slashes around the ground, slowly, in the dirt. I do not need some headstrong fool as my wielder. He has overstayed his welcome.]

[Instead, let's get something more interesting. I call upon He Who Avenges Those Who Need It, as he possesses the body, the flames going into the pumpkin to give it a terrifying glare.]

"Who has called me?!" [The beast demands of me, as I begin to tell it my orders, binding it to this body before long. "You are no longer He, you are now... Gorcha. You shall forget your past life, but not your skillset, oh no no. You are going to be my wielder, and I shall be your master. We shall bring great suffering, in the name of eternal vegeance!" As I finished the commands, he passed out. As I would expect.]

[I laid myself down next to the newborn fool, and hours later, he came to his senses.] "...Where am... Oh, right, axe. Alright, who do I kill next, Halberd?"

[What delightful agony we shall inflict.]