Escapism, an Acquired Taste

I feel...odd.

I smiled, and actually laughed. I cracked a few jokes, even if I was the only one who thought it was funny. I felt good, sitting and talking without worrying, without feeling like death was simply waiting for me just beyond sight.

Of course, this odd feeling passed, and that familiar weight upon my chest, that one that makes it hard to breathe sometimes, returned and settled in once more. Back to the fields, kill more demons. I do not begrudge my place, I at least know where I belong, but it seems an endless and overwhelming goal, one that appears to be ever more beyond reach.

I still sweep the lake for sickly green fish that move like lightning through the water, and always leave me with a wound full of venom before the fight is through. The single small, crucial item I seek, fails to appear, time and time again. Still..I keep looking. The alternative is unthinkable for me, and for those still waiting for redemption.

Besides, if I do not push myself, I have to face them all and I simply do not know how right now. I can not face them, each one for a different reason, each one presenting a monumental problem that I do not know how to rectify. The reason I hunt the most dangerous creatures this world has to offer, and do so alone...is because...I am a coward. Few can follow me where I go, few would care to and so it frees me...in a manner of speaking. How do I deal with them? Kuzma, Trygon, Balkoth, Shay... I...can not and so I flee to the safety of blood and battle, to the serenity of demon slaughter and pain.

But for a brief moment, I smiled with friends....and it was good.