Deserik sat outside the back door of the inn with a belly full of paedophilic rapist, questioning his morality.
He'd been looking out for her ever since he'd seen a wanted poster put up on the inn's noticeboard. The rapist was on the run from the law, trying to cross into the Faerie realm, where she hoped to disappear forever. Didn't turn out that way, unfortunately for her. Fortunately, for the rest of the world.
However, Deserik was conflicted. Usually, he felt some sort of satisfaction after ridding the world of evil. Or at least, he felt like he was doing the right thing.
Now he felt like shit.
When he killed for Lady Azalea, he was doing it for the greater good; if she came into harm, the world would fall into chaos. Now, he was just killing for himself. For the inn, at best.
His victim wasn't a good person. Hell, she was more of a monster than he was. But that didn't give him a right to literally kill and eat her. The law would've dealt with her.
But what if she got away? Deserik could have caught her and handed her in. She would've been locked away for life. But what if that didn't happen? What if she got out? What if there were more victims?
I'm just trying to come up with excuses. He thought.
After spending so much time around regular people, he'd realised how similar he was to them. He couldn't go around consuming their innards anymore. But what was he going to do, eat vegetables? The thought made him nauseous.
I'm too sober for this shit.
Deserik hoisted himself up on the door handle and stepped inside. He was hit with the smell of sweat and alcohol. The chatter and drunken laughter of patrons. He made his way upstairs, climbing up the wooden ladder to his room. Under his bed was a crate where he stored his mead. He grabbed a bottle, tore off the cap and chugged it. He got about a third of the way through until he felt too queasy to drink any more. He fell back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. It was covered in spiderwebs. Deserik wondered how many spiders had fallen on his face as he slept. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
This was good; he couldn't even remember what he was sad about.
Rapists or something...?
He closed his eyes. Unsure whether it was the serotonin or the booze, Deserik felt tired.
I'll figure it out later... He thought, numbly before passing out.