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The Bag

The Bag

“Before I had my satchel, I had a simple bag at my side.”

“It was adorably mundane, but for a time it got the job done. You see, the bag had one purpose, it was meant to hold things, to take them in and keep them tight.”

“And for a while, it was perfect.”

“Every astounding object and interesting knick-knack would wind up inside of my pouch, fitting snuggly as though it gobbled them up one by one.”

“But the thing is, however, no matter how seemingly bottomless that big ole sack was, it had a limit.”

“A point where it was simply bursting at the seams.”

“This bag, as reliable as it seemed, met its fate one day when I shoved one artifact too many inside. The threads holding it together began to unravel, the cloth tore, and its insides…”

“Became outsides.”

“As I looked down at the remains of my precious bag I couldn’t bring myself to be sad, however.”

“No, I took it as a learning experience.”

“Everything has its limit, you simply have to find it.”

“Now, Ether, let’s look at you like I saw that bag that once clung to my waist.”

“You have a… reputation that precedes you. You’re a hungry girl, the kind of woman that can chow down on anything and everything until your plate is clean and your stomach still won’t be full.”

“Truly, it’d be amazing if it wasn’t so painfully disgusting.”

“But you’re a glutton for more than food, aren’t you? No, you’re a glutton for punishment too.”

“Don’t deny it.”

“Ever since you entered OSW I’ve seen you taking both food and fists to the face like your friend Wiz takes smoke to his lungs. You’ve been Simon’s little bag for abuse.”

“Day after day and scheme after scheme has him using you as a tool, a pawn in his games. Pyre’s beatings? Luke Storm’s assaults? Both of them are simply artifacts in the bag, another pie shoved down your disgusting gullet.”

“And as resilient as you are, there comes a point where you won’t be able to take it anymore. Not another beating, not another chicken sandwich.”

“You’re gonna unravel.”

“And me? I’m going to help expedite the process.”

“I’m going to force feed you boot after boot, fist after fist until you’re begging for it to end, nearly bursting at the seams with every vicious strike I lay down upon your idiotic little head.”

“Much like my bag, I’m going to push you to your limits and watch as you rip beneath the pressure. Your insides will become outsides, and your life will come to an end as I tear you asunder with my bare hands.”

“And once you’re left a mess on the mat, a pile of viscera and undone threads, I will take it as putting what I learned in action.”

“Now open wide, Ether.”

“I’ve walked this path before, I shall walk it once more.”