The unceasing daylight of civilization illuminated the city, even through the sun had long retired to its slumber. The inhabitants of the bustling city flowed through the streets, rushing, even with nowhere to rush to, unaware and indifferent to the budding danger that brewed behind the eyes of a man who stood indefferent to the world around him, consumed by hatred that had nourished itself with every failiure, setback and dissapointment he had shouldered throughout his life.
He stood there, letting the crowd pass him by, like a rock standing stubbornly against a stream. The world flowed passed him, as he slowly began to forget why it was he was standing their in the first place. Losing himself in regret and self-hatred as he sheltered himslef in the past, reliving interactions that had long since lost the chance to be repaired.
He had long since let the world change him until he had lost the ability to change, surrendering to the world. He resigned himself from hope, his dreams adn from his aspirations. It was then, when that seed of bitterness, of hatred had taken root in his heart, that he felt the world around him shift, like a set of eyes were fixated upon him, a gaze that stared beyond his body, upon his very nature. His every flaw, his every quality. It was then that a voice filled his skull, leaving no room for thought.
[Your hatred is pitiable]
The voice was that of a man, and had the air of a dissapointed parent, who had grown tired of scolding their children over the same thing yet again, but before the man could react, another phrase echoed through his head:
[You been Cursed]
[Curse of Hatred acquired]
[Curse Rank: Debilitating]
Suddenly the world around him twisted, the faces of those around him twisting into a twisted mosaic of those who had every wronged the man, and his body filled with strength, a strength that his body had never experienced.
And an irresistable urge to use it.
The next second, he gave in to his primal desires, and buried his fist into face of a man who had never done him wrong, and he relished in it. Yet his anger was not satiated, and with every slip of what sliver of sanity remained, he began to change. His body began to transfigure, transforming itself to fit the soul that resided within it, a soul that had lost its human quality, becoming more akin to a beast, bone-like protrusions clawing themselves throught his skin, teeth morphing into fangs, his skin becoming more and more like a clumsy patchwork of matted fur and quickly fading skin.
The people around him fixated on the wanton slaughter that had begun around them that all but a few failed to notice the space above them begin to split open, filling the air around it with insidious whispering of fear, regret and hatred, propagating the Curse throughout the crowd.
- - -
A priest stood by the altar, basking in the brilliance of the sun, revelling in the simple duties brought about by his faith and his calling. The stained glass windows, wrought from the study and care of a craftsman who had dedicated his life to his skill knitted the sunlight into delicate patterns that painted the cold floor of the church. The preist had the uncommon ability to find joy in the small parts of life, and to make the most the the least significant events. He was a person who knew what was important to him, and how to never let it go.
It was only when he stood by the pews, viewing his arrangements for the mornings service, that a voice resounded throughout his entire being, akin to, but superior to the echoing quality the architecture of the sacred building gave to his voice when he addressed the church. The voice was soft, but commanded respect, and gave the familliar feeling of someone who had followed him his whole life.
[Your faith is commendable]
[You have been Blessed]
[Blessing of Duty acquired]
[Blessing Rank: Distinguished]
The world around the blessed man seemed to grow brighter, and the sun seemed just a little warmer in its radiance.
The priest did not know the iimportance of what had happened to him, but he would know soon.
Unfortunately, soon was not soon enough.
No-one was prepared for the years that came after.