Chapter Five: A Broken Commandment

No longer completely human, Michael goes on the run

              He couldn't stay.  Michael knew that.  Staying meant someone would eventually find the camp and find him.  Soon people would wonder why he was the only survivor.  They would hang him for this...or worse.  I deserve it.  I'm a murderer.  He believed with every inch of him that he deserved to hang for his crime, but he also believed in survival.  Michael rose from the bloodstained ground and dried his eyes.  As guilty as he felt, tears were of no use.  Michael replaced the bloody and torn clothes he wore with others scattered around the camp, and he ran.

              Michael ran.  He ran through the rest of the day.  He ran until his legs gave out under him.  Michael's legs buckled, and he hit the hard dirt.  He lay on the ground, panting, trying to catch whatever breath he could.  Michael tried to lift himself off the ground, only to fall once again with a muffled thump.  Weak and hungry, Michael laid on the ground.  He wished he had brought food from the camp.  Pushing with all his might, Michael stood and stumbled on. 

             Through the trees, Michael could see a small farmhouse.  Avoiding making a sound, he crept up to the house.  A pie lay cooling on the windowsill.  The very sight of the pie made his stomach scream in desire.  Michael's past of refusing to do things that were wrong didn't even cross his mind as he snatched the pie and ran away from the house -- and away from the setting sun. 

             Michael dug his fingers into the pie and threw the steaming pieces into his mouth.  The heat of the pie burned his mouth, but he didn't care.  He had food.  That fact alone was enough to keep him going.  As the last piece entered his mouth, Michael collapsed against a tree to catch his breath. 

              A slight wave of guilt washed over Michael.  He wasn't a thief.  He had never stolen before.  Well, he had taken things from the red men he had killed, but that was different.  Those were spoils of the battle.  If they weren't strong enough to survive, then they weren't strong enough to keep what they had.  Those savages didn't think they owned anything anyways, so what did it matter?  

              Even so, what difference should stealing one pie make when he was starving?  Especially after the other atrocities he had previously committed, stealing a pie was a small crime.  Look at me, Michael thought, I'm giving excuses for breaking a Commandment!  I'm a sinner.  There can be no salvation for someone like me. 

             Michael looked around and realized how much time had passed since he sat down.  The sun had finally set.  Fear crept up Michael's spine.  Afraid of what he knew would soon happen, Michael looked up to the sky.  The white moon shone up above.  It was full. 

             The next morning, Michael awoke with a more full stomach than the pie had given him.

             

Reviews

[Ardeth Lane]

Oh god he ate people.

[Trevor]

They're all short =P

[loowzerX]

haha very clever for a short chapter!

[Shin]

Hahaha, stealing a pie ain't as bad as killing a person just as he thinks, but I like the way he gives so much thought into everything that he does, like he really does live every second of his life, literally thinking about even the smallest details.

[lawietvsryuk]

cool, i like it keep it up.