Nyarlathotep expected the Eye’s universe to be a giant court room, or perhaps a prison cell. As such, she was surprised when she arrived to find the entire universe shrouded in darkness. As with the Dying Man, her more pragmatic side debated immediately destroying everything before the Fear could attempt any tricks, but curiosity proved stronger, and she started exploring, using her flaming sword to light the way.
“Hey!” She shouted in a voice much deeper than would be expected from her appearance. “Get the fuck out here so I can stab you and leave!”
Something did appear in the darkness, but it was not the disembodied eye that Nyarlathotep had been expecting. It was a woman, who looked impossibly familiar to Nyarlathotep.
“Lisa?” Her voice suddenly sounded like I-330’s again.
Lisa look at Nyarlathotep with sad blue eyes. “Why, 330?”
A chain appeared around Nyarlathotep’s leg, but she didn’t seem to notice it. “This is an illusion.” She said. “You died. I remember it. I was you when it happened.”
“Yes. I did die. Because you couldn’t save me.”
Another chain appeared around Nyarlathotep’s other leg. “I tried the best I could!”
“And look at what you did as a result. Did you think that’s what I wanted? Did you think I would be happy to come back and find out how many people you murdered in order to save me? That I’d be grateful enough to forgive the fact that you destroyed the entire universe?”
A chain wrapped around Nyarlathotep’s arm, making her drop her sword. She still didn’t react. “I… I thought… maybe I could make things better…. After I saved you, I could fix things….”
“How? You can’t just take back everything you did. People died. All for something that didn’t even work. How can you justify that? How can you keep fighting, acting like it’s all someone else’s fault?”
“I just… I….” More chains continued appearing around her, pulling Nyarlathotep to her knees. “All I wanted was to get you back. Is that too much? Is it wrong for me to want something worthwhile in my life?” A tear went down Nyarlathotep’s face, and more rapidly followed. “I’ve been fighting nothing but losing battles my whole life! I’ve seen humanity killed twice right before my eyes, and all I could do about it was try to get revenge on the perpetrators! Everyone I’ve gotten close to has died!” Her body shook with sobs. “And it’s always my fault. Everything I try to do only makes things worse. I keep fighting, hoping to change things for the better, because it’s the only thing I know how to do. But instead of fixing everything, I just keep breaking it even worse.”
A chain wrapped around Nyarlathotep’s neck, but she still didn’t resist. “The time I spent with you was the only time I was ever really happy.” She said. “The only time there was some peace in my life. There was actually someone in the world who loved me. Not some idea of me, but just me. I didn’t have to constantly act like a perfect, energetic adventurer for her. She saw me at my worst, when I was crippled and angry at everything but she still loved me. Even when I acted like I would never return her feelings. And she was everything I wished I could be, everything I used to be before I turned into this monster. Of course I tried to get her back. Who wouldn’t fight with everything they had to get something like that back?”
Lisa stepped closer, and put her hand on Nyarlathotep’s shoulder. “No one can doubt your motivations. But you went too far. You need to accept that it’s pointless to keep fighting. Accept that I’m gone. It’s over, 330. You can rest now.”
Nyarlathotep’s sobs grew softer as the chains tightened around her. And then, almost hidden by her crying, a chuckle. Then another. And another. The tears stopped, and Nyarlathotep laughed madly as the chains that had been holding her began to break apart and fall away. “Over?” She said. “No. Not yet. I haven’t lost yet. I can still win this. I can fix everything. I have that power now.” She looked at Lisa and laughed. “So what if Lisa died? I’ll make a new her! One who will approve of the actions I took to bring her back! And I’ll make sure she stays by my side forever!”
“But you can’t-”
“Shut up!” Nyarlathotep roared, her voice again becoming deep and powerful. “How dare you wear her face! How dare you pretend to know anything about what she would have thought!” Nyarlathotep picked up her sword and advanced on Lisa.
“330… please… please don’t….”
“Shut up shut up SHUT UP!” Nyarlathotep swung her sword through Lisa. Lisa’s body vanished, and in its place was a large, floating eye. Nyarlathotep screamed and swung again, cutting the Eye in half. As it died, so did its universe.
Only silence followed. Yet another Fear had been destroyed. Just three remained. Three, and the Slender Man.
Nyarlathotep spat at the spot where the Eye had been. It did nothing to soothe her anger. Nothing but the continued destruction of her foes would calm her now. They would meet their death soon. She intended to make sure of it.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Nyarlathotep
The scars from Grendel’s revolution still covered the Empty City, in the ruins and rubble from the fighting. The Black Dog stalked through the streets, as the Intrusion’s thousands of insects swarmed around its feet. The Rake watched from inside the skyscrapers, patiently waiting. They all knew that I-330’s path of destruction would eventually take here there. All they needed to do was wait.
They had not accounted for her expecting their presence. As the Rake walked down a twisted hallway, I-330 appeared next to it. It barely managed to step aside before her fist went by its head. Instead she struck the wall behind it, smashing it and the air around it into a hole of emptiness.
The Rake fled, leaping out a window onto the streets. I-330 followed it, jumping out seconds after. Halfway through the jump she regretted the choice, as she looked at the horde of insects below. Her arm became a tentacle and lashed down, shattering the street and scattering the bugs. The Rake had already begun bounding away when she landed, and I-330 attempted to pursue. But when she took a step, her feet sunk into the asphalt streets like quicksand. She smashed the ground to free her foot, but with each further step her feet sank again, slowing her progress. The Rake turned into an alley and was lost from sight, but the Intrusion remained. The swarm had recovered from I-330’s attack, and was racing at her like a black cloud. There were too many to scatter like before, and the sucking asphalt made dodging impossible.
She closed her eyes, and felt everything around her. The air. The atoms spinning and bouncing. Energy moving between them. She focused on that energy, moved it into new forms, then snapped her fingers….
An explosion ripped through the swarm, crushing and burning the bugs. The blast was larger than I-330 had anticipated, and she was picked up and thrown several feet. When she got back up, the City was shifting. Buildings move and streets twisted before her eyes, into alien shapes and forms. As the towers moved, one skyscraper tilted, and began to fall toward I-330. She started to run, but walls grew from the streets around her, cutting off any escape. The building was almost on top of her; no time to think, just react. She held up a hand, and the moment the building touched, she shifted all the kinetic energy from its impact away. It’s landing felt lighter than a feather on her hand, but now she was stuck holding up a massive skyscraper with one hand, and a massive amount of energy looking for an outlet.
A howl echoed through the City, and the Black Dog leapt over the walls, looking to take advantage of I-330’s trapped position. As it came close, I-330 closed her eyes again, raised her free hand toward the Dog, and pointed a finger at it, miming a gun. Just as it pounced, she released all the energy from the skyscraper falling out of the finger. All that energy, focused on a single, tiny point, struck the Dog, and sent if flying. Its body broke through one of the walls, and kept going down the street, without any sign of slowing. The road cracked and windows shattered at the speed of its passing, until it slammed into another building at the end of the road. The whole tower came crashing down on the Dog, creating a cloud of debris that billowed over I-330.
It took some time, but the cloud of dust settled. I-330 had gotten out from under the building she’d been holding, and was coughing heavily. She took several deep breaths, which only caused her to cough more. Now the only question was, had it done any actual damage. It had certainly looked impressive, but….
The rubble flew off, and the Dog emerged, completely unharmed. It growled with a deep sound that shook the dust off it, and ran down the street so fast it looked to I-330 like a black blur. She just had time to mutter, “Oh shit,” before it was on her, teeth flashing. She raised her left arm to protect herself, and the Dog bit through and tore the limb off. Pipes burst from under the street and wrapped around I-330’s neck, dragging and pinning her to the ground. The Dog’s mouth went for her head, so she closed her eyes and started frantically moving as many air molecules as she could. A gust of wind hit the Black Dog and carried it down the street, buying I-330 time for her arm to recover. She broke apart the pipe holding her and got back up, preparing to meet the Dog’s second charge.
The ground shook slightly as the City shifted again. Buildings were sliding aside, creating a grand avenue. I-330 couldn’t understand the purpose behind the change, until she saw what was at the end of the avenue. At first, she thought she was looking at a black wall. When it moved, she realized it was a horde of insects, larger than any she’d ever thought could exist. The Empty City was moving to make way for the entirety of the Intrusion’s swarm to fall upon I-330.
The Swarm from one end of the street, and the Black Dog charging from the other. The City kept shifting, closing off alleys or other escape routes I-330 could take. She would have to stand and fight there. Her mind raced, trying to figure out her options, attempting to narrow down to the best one….
She punched her tentacles through the street, and started to spread them under the road. A sound came over the City, the sound of concrete and metal screaming. The Dog and Intrusion kept coming at I-330, ignoring the sound. I-330 didn’t react to them, keeping her attention focused entirely on the ground. The two were only a few feet away from her before she moved. Dozens of black tentacles broke out from beneath the street, ripping apart a hole in reality larger than the entire City block. The Black Dog and Intrusion were caught in the hole, and the sound of the Dog howling and thousands of insects dying shrieked over the City as both were consumed by nothingness.
As their dying screams faded, everything became quiet. I-330 barely dared breath, expecting the Black Dog or Intrusion to suddenly reappear and resume their attack. Nothing of the sort occurred. Even the City had stopped moving. The two Fears really had been destroyed.
That last attack had pushed I-330 to near her limit. It took most of her remaining energy to move the molecules in the remaining streets to create a bridge she could walk on to get out of the circle of emptiness she’d made. When she reached the end of the bridge, she nearly collapsed. Manipulating matter and energy was hard. But at least the fight was over….
The Rake appeared behind I-330, and stabbed it’s claws through her stomach.
W-what is… what just… happened….
The Rake dropped her body, and brought down its claws at her face, tearing out her left eye and leaving her blinded. She started to scream, but the sound was cut off when the Rake’s teeth tore into her throat.
I can’t breathe… why can’t I breathe….
The Rake’s claws cut across I-330 over and over, mutilating her body. She made no motion to fight back, only laying still as her flesh was torn open.
I’m tired… I just… want… to… sleep….
It was an interesting experience for I-330, watching herself die. She felt her lungs stop puling in air and her heart beat its last time as if they were outside events that had no connection to her. She saw the last few brain waves dying away, and her body becoming nothing but inert, lifeless meat. And the moment her body died, her conscious broke free.
Kill them all.
Nyarlathotep moved her hand so fast that the bone in her arm snapped under the pressure, hitting the Rake in the face and throwing it off her. Her body rose up, not standing up, but lifted up as if by a string. Her mouth opened, and she roared with the fury of a supernova. Black tentacles burst from her back, then more out of her arms, face, all over her body. Her skin slid away, revealing a twisted, chaotic mass of shadows, covered in bright red eyes and roaring mouths. The Crawling Chaos grew in size, rising above the skyscrapers of the Empty City. The fires of chaos grew around Nyarlathotep, then exploded out over the City, destroying everything in its way. The Rake was struck and burned away in an instant. The wall of fire quickly covered the entire City, leaving only oblivion in its wake.
When nothing remained in the universe that had once been the Empty City, Nyarlathotep’s body compressed into human form. She looked similar to how I-330 had, or rather, how I-330 had seen herself in the desert lake’s reflection. All the signs of her old injuries were gone, including her eye patch. Two bright red eyes illuminated her face, outlined by heavy Egyptian eyeliner. Her black suit and coat remained, but they had been joined by a golden circlet crowing her head. Her hair was dark as the emptiness of space, and it floated behind her in ways which seemed to pay no heed to gravity. When she smiled, teeth sharp as blades shone out. The shadows and tentacles that had been her left arm were gone, replaced by what appeared a human limb. But under her skin, darkness writhed.
The fires which had destroyed the City came back to Nyarlathotep, condensing into a sword of fire. She grabbed the burning hilt, and with a single swing, tore open a path to the next universe she would destroy.
They had not accounted for her expecting their presence. As the Rake walked down a twisted hallway, I-330 appeared next to it. It barely managed to step aside before her fist went by its head. Instead she struck the wall behind it, smashing it and the air around it into a hole of emptiness.
The Rake fled, leaping out a window onto the streets. I-330 followed it, jumping out seconds after. Halfway through the jump she regretted the choice, as she looked at the horde of insects below. Her arm became a tentacle and lashed down, shattering the street and scattering the bugs. The Rake had already begun bounding away when she landed, and I-330 attempted to pursue. But when she took a step, her feet sunk into the asphalt streets like quicksand. She smashed the ground to free her foot, but with each further step her feet sank again, slowing her progress. The Rake turned into an alley and was lost from sight, but the Intrusion remained. The swarm had recovered from I-330’s attack, and was racing at her like a black cloud. There were too many to scatter like before, and the sucking asphalt made dodging impossible.
She closed her eyes, and felt everything around her. The air. The atoms spinning and bouncing. Energy moving between them. She focused on that energy, moved it into new forms, then snapped her fingers….
An explosion ripped through the swarm, crushing and burning the bugs. The blast was larger than I-330 had anticipated, and she was picked up and thrown several feet. When she got back up, the City was shifting. Buildings move and streets twisted before her eyes, into alien shapes and forms. As the towers moved, one skyscraper tilted, and began to fall toward I-330. She started to run, but walls grew from the streets around her, cutting off any escape. The building was almost on top of her; no time to think, just react. She held up a hand, and the moment the building touched, she shifted all the kinetic energy from its impact away. It’s landing felt lighter than a feather on her hand, but now she was stuck holding up a massive skyscraper with one hand, and a massive amount of energy looking for an outlet.
A howl echoed through the City, and the Black Dog leapt over the walls, looking to take advantage of I-330’s trapped position. As it came close, I-330 closed her eyes again, raised her free hand toward the Dog, and pointed a finger at it, miming a gun. Just as it pounced, she released all the energy from the skyscraper falling out of the finger. All that energy, focused on a single, tiny point, struck the Dog, and sent if flying. Its body broke through one of the walls, and kept going down the street, without any sign of slowing. The road cracked and windows shattered at the speed of its passing, until it slammed into another building at the end of the road. The whole tower came crashing down on the Dog, creating a cloud of debris that billowed over I-330.
It took some time, but the cloud of dust settled. I-330 had gotten out from under the building she’d been holding, and was coughing heavily. She took several deep breaths, which only caused her to cough more. Now the only question was, had it done any actual damage. It had certainly looked impressive, but….
The rubble flew off, and the Dog emerged, completely unharmed. It growled with a deep sound that shook the dust off it, and ran down the street so fast it looked to I-330 like a black blur. She just had time to mutter, “Oh shit,” before it was on her, teeth flashing. She raised her left arm to protect herself, and the Dog bit through and tore the limb off. Pipes burst from under the street and wrapped around I-330’s neck, dragging and pinning her to the ground. The Dog’s mouth went for her head, so she closed her eyes and started frantically moving as many air molecules as she could. A gust of wind hit the Black Dog and carried it down the street, buying I-330 time for her arm to recover. She broke apart the pipe holding her and got back up, preparing to meet the Dog’s second charge.
The ground shook slightly as the City shifted again. Buildings were sliding aside, creating a grand avenue. I-330 couldn’t understand the purpose behind the change, until she saw what was at the end of the avenue. At first, she thought she was looking at a black wall. When it moved, she realized it was a horde of insects, larger than any she’d ever thought could exist. The Empty City was moving to make way for the entirety of the Intrusion’s swarm to fall upon I-330.
The Swarm from one end of the street, and the Black Dog charging from the other. The City kept shifting, closing off alleys or other escape routes I-330 could take. She would have to stand and fight there. Her mind raced, trying to figure out her options, attempting to narrow down to the best one….
She punched her tentacles through the street, and started to spread them under the road. A sound came over the City, the sound of concrete and metal screaming. The Dog and Intrusion kept coming at I-330, ignoring the sound. I-330 didn’t react to them, keeping her attention focused entirely on the ground. The two were only a few feet away from her before she moved. Dozens of black tentacles broke out from beneath the street, ripping apart a hole in reality larger than the entire City block. The Black Dog and Intrusion were caught in the hole, and the sound of the Dog howling and thousands of insects dying shrieked over the City as both were consumed by nothingness.
As their dying screams faded, everything became quiet. I-330 barely dared breath, expecting the Black Dog or Intrusion to suddenly reappear and resume their attack. Nothing of the sort occurred. Even the City had stopped moving. The two Fears really had been destroyed.
That last attack had pushed I-330 to near her limit. It took most of her remaining energy to move the molecules in the remaining streets to create a bridge she could walk on to get out of the circle of emptiness she’d made. When she reached the end of the bridge, she nearly collapsed. Manipulating matter and energy was hard. But at least the fight was over….
The Rake appeared behind I-330, and stabbed it’s claws through her stomach.
W-what is… what just… happened….
The Rake dropped her body, and brought down its claws at her face, tearing out her left eye and leaving her blinded. She started to scream, but the sound was cut off when the Rake’s teeth tore into her throat.
I can’t breathe… why can’t I breathe….
The Rake’s claws cut across I-330 over and over, mutilating her body. She made no motion to fight back, only laying still as her flesh was torn open.
I’m tired… I just… want… to… sleep….
It was an interesting experience for I-330, watching herself die. She felt her lungs stop puling in air and her heart beat its last time as if they were outside events that had no connection to her. She saw the last few brain waves dying away, and her body becoming nothing but inert, lifeless meat. And the moment her body died, her conscious broke free.
Kill them all.
Nyarlathotep moved her hand so fast that the bone in her arm snapped under the pressure, hitting the Rake in the face and throwing it off her. Her body rose up, not standing up, but lifted up as if by a string. Her mouth opened, and she roared with the fury of a supernova. Black tentacles burst from her back, then more out of her arms, face, all over her body. Her skin slid away, revealing a twisted, chaotic mass of shadows, covered in bright red eyes and roaring mouths. The Crawling Chaos grew in size, rising above the skyscrapers of the Empty City. The fires of chaos grew around Nyarlathotep, then exploded out over the City, destroying everything in its way. The Rake was struck and burned away in an instant. The wall of fire quickly covered the entire City, leaving only oblivion in its wake.
When nothing remained in the universe that had once been the Empty City, Nyarlathotep’s body compressed into human form. She looked similar to how I-330 had, or rather, how I-330 had seen herself in the desert lake’s reflection. All the signs of her old injuries were gone, including her eye patch. Two bright red eyes illuminated her face, outlined by heavy Egyptian eyeliner. Her black suit and coat remained, but they had been joined by a golden circlet crowing her head. Her hair was dark as the emptiness of space, and it floated behind her in ways which seemed to pay no heed to gravity. When she smiled, teeth sharp as blades shone out. The shadows and tentacles that had been her left arm were gone, replaced by what appeared a human limb. But under her skin, darkness writhed.
The fires which had destroyed the City came back to Nyarlathotep, condensing into a sword of fire. She grabbed the burning hilt, and with a single swing, tore open a path to the next universe she would destroy.
Friday, October 4, 2013
The Dying Man
Seen a lot of pocket universes recently. There was one filled with rolling, flower covered hills, and soil wet with blood. Another was an abandoned, overgrown playground, where I could hear the faint cries of children calling for their parents. Then another looked like a decrepit medieval village, with diseased corpses stacked in the center of town. And yet another was a cavern, walls covered in grey fungus, and the constant sound of strange echoes in the distance.
I destroyed all of them. I will not let any trace of the Fears survive.
There’s still more of these pocket universes out there. I can feel them. I can feel… everything now. When I look at my hand, I no longer see just a hand. I see a massive collection of subatomic particles spinning around each other. When I take a step, I’m fully aware of the reaction that transfers energy altering my nervous system that my foot has touched the ground. It’s weird, but somehow it feels so natural.
I can also sense the Earth. It’s still there. Just a single timeline, the last remnant of the entire multiverse, being held together by the Manufactured Newborn. I’ll return there soon. Once I’ve dealt with everything else.
As I moved through these universes, I found another Fear. Although this meeting was rather different from my last encounter with their kind.
The universe was a wasteland. Black, cracked ground went on for miles without any variance or even change in elevation. Looked even more boring than the desert had been. I walked around for a while, hoping to find something interesting before I destroyed the place. That was when I heard the voice.
“Well, well, you finally decided to pay my humble home a visit, boss.” The voice sounded like someone trying to gargle phlegm while simultaneously swallowing a fist full of gravel.
Given the recent hostility I’ve been encountering, I immediately got ready to fight. “Where are you?”
“Where am I? Why, I’m right here.
In response to that, I punched a hole in reality.
“Alright, alright, jeez.” The voice said. “No sense of humor. Well then, allow me to introduce myself. Hello, Nyarlathotep, my name is the Dying Man, and it is ever so pleasant to meet you.”
Still no sign of where the voice was coming from. “Yeah, yeah, nice to meet ya too, now stop fucking hiding and get out of here.”
More of its laughter. “And just how to you expect me to do that, boss? I’m a body surfer, and in case you hadn’t noticed, there aren’t any bodies left anymore. EAT snatched up the last few humans before the world ended, the bastard. And while I usually would leap at the opportunity to take over such a fine young lady as yourself, that fleshy container is already hosting an Outer God. And I don’t fancy my chances tangling with you over ownership of your little meat shell, boss.”
Still kept looking around, expecting some kind of attack. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t call my body a ‘meat shell’, kay thanks.”
“Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it. You wanna keep yourself stuck in that thing, I ain’t gonna judge.”
My teeth were grinding in frustration at this conversation. “The fuck do you want? I’ve got a lot of stuff to destroy, so I’d rather you not waste my time.”
“Woah there boss, no need for this anger. I was just hoping you and I could have a little chat, something for me to pass the time before I disappear.”
That last word caught my attention. “What do you mean, disappear?”
“Exactly what it sounds like I mean, boss. What am I supposed to do now that everyone’s been killed off? I’m the Dying Man, not the Dead Man. Corpses are useless for me. What good is the embodiment of death when there’s nothing left capable of dying?” More of its hacking laughter. “What did one of you humans say? Oh yeah; And with strange aeons, even death may die.” Another round of laughter, which slowly died away. When the Dying Man’s voice came back, it was much softer. “So how’s this gonna go down? Are you going to smash the whole place up and kill me quickly? Or just walk off and let the damage you’ve already done finish me off?”
I looked at the hole I’d made in reality. Cracks were already spreading from it, expanding the emptiness. I hadn’t spared a second to thinking about the consequences when I made it. It was just a spontaneous act of anger.
“I… I didn’t….”
“What this, boss? The great Nyarlathotep shouldn’t be feeling doubt. I’m a Fear, aren’t I? The hated foe! Hurry up and get to the manslaughter!”
There was a part of me that wanted to do just that. But mostly I just felt uncomfortable about the whole situation. Yeah, the Dying Man was a Fear, but it wasn’t doing anything to me. Before this point, I don’t think the Dying Man and I had ever actually met, which is a big difference when compared to all the Fears who kept actively trying to screw up my life.
As if reading my mind, the Dying Man said, “Can’t do it? You never did got the cold blooded murderer thing down. You always needed some excuse to justify it first. I’ve seen it a million times before. People like you who need someone to be pointing a knife at them before they’re willing to shoot.”
“Shut up.” Can’t exactly say it was wrong. I just wished it would attack me or something. It would have made the whole thing simpler. “I need a drink.”
“Then why not make one, boss?”
“Oh, yeah, I’ll just wave my hand and magically make one appear out of thin air, shouldn’t be too hard to do in this empty wasteland.”
“Yeah, why not do that?”
I just stared at the spot I’d last heard the voice from. “I was joking.”
“And I wasn’t. If you want something to drink, just go and make something to drink. There’s no reason you can’t, boss.”
“No reason except its fucking impossible for me to just make things spontaneously appear out of thin air.”
“Is it now? How did you get that little notebook of yours, then?”
I pulled the book out of my coat pocket. “This? I got this when I was being held by the government.”
“Really? That’s pretty impressive boss. Holding onto the same notebook after all you’ve been through. Most people would have dropped it during that whole apocalypse business. But you held on! Even when you threw away the coat that you had been keeping it in, you still somehow kept it!”
“I….” I had taken the journal out of my last trench coat before I’d thrown it away, right? And then I must have just carried it in my hands until I got my new coat…?
“But that’s not even half as impressive as your ability to keep writing utensils on hand! One would expect any regular pen’s ink to have dried up by this point, but you’ve managed to keep on writing anyways!”
Pens? Um… yeah, I… I had lots of pens. I had to have them. That’s how I’ve been writing things down. I just couldn’t find or remember any of them at the moment.
“But most amazing of all has to be your writing speed! You’ve been hunted almost nonstop since the Slender Man tore down Red Cap’s place, but you’ve still written pages of material in the brief moments of calm! It’s almost as if the words are appearing on the paper!”
I started flipping through the notebook. I could remember thinking about writing everything in it. But for the last few entries, I couldn’t remember actually writing them down. And yet they were right there on the pages. “But… I mean… how….”
The sarcasm finally left the Dying Man’s voice. “Because you’re a god. You wanted a record of what’s happened to you, so it became reality. It’s the same principle with making a drink. You want something. Now make it exist.”
Pondered that for a while. Then I tried thinking “I really want a drink” as hard as I could. Nothing happened.
“It’s not working.”
“Well of course it’s not, boss. You keep trying to think with that meat shell’s brain instead of your own mind. Just pull back from it, then give it a whirl.”
Didn’t understand exactly what it meant, but I tried following the advice. Don’t know how to describe the feeling exactly. It was sort of like letting go of my own body. And suddenly, I could see the molecules all around me. Making things out of them was so easy. I just had to move a few atoms around, form some chemical bonds, and….
A small globe of whiskey appeared a few inches from my face. It instantly fell, and splashed on the ground.
“Ah, yeah, you should have made a glass too, boss.”
I almost didn’t hear the Dying Man. I was too excited about what I’d done. It had been so simple! “This is… this is amazing! There’s so many things I can do with this!”
“Glad you think so, boss. Now you’ll be ready for when the Rake tries jumping his little ambush on you.”
“…. The Rake what?”
“Oops, did I say something? Nah, just ignore that. I didn’t say anything about the Rake getting the Black Dog and Intrusion together and waiting to attack you in the Empty City.” A chuckle.
Okay, cool, four Fears all in the same place. That would speed up the process of wiping them out. But one thing I had to know first. “Why are you telling me this? Why help me?”
“Don’t look at me like that, boss. I can already see you trying to go and put me in a neat little ‘Good Fear’ category, so you can differentiate me from all the ones you put in the ‘Bad Fear’ box. That whole black and white morality thing you keep trying to push on everything is just plain creepy, especially given what you are. Just because someone helped you doesn’t mean they’re a good person. Especially considering you’re not exactly a shining paragon, Mrs. Genocide.”
“The Fears were the ones who killed all those people!”
“I am a Fear, boss. And while I can’t speak for the others, I was certainly content to just laze around and slowly murder people one by one, up to the point where you went and blew up two universes at once.”
“I had to save Lisa!”
“Of course you did. And I’m sure all those people who got caught in the collateral damage would perfectly understand. You might even get a chance to explain it to them when you meet with Archangel. You’ve certainly been a boon to him, considering all those billions of souls you kindly sent his way.”
“If you don’t shut up right now I will tear this whole universe down.”
“Ooh, you’ve got me quivering in fear, boss. Eh? Get it? Fear?”
This time, I was fully aware of what the consequences would be when I smashed another hole in reality. This one was much larger than the last, and within seconds it was spreading across the universe.
As the sky fell apart like glass, the Dying Man spoke, so quietly I almost didn’t hear it. “Why did I tell you about the Rake’s ambush? Why not? They’re going to die soon. Even if it’s not by your hands, their time is almost up. So many of us Fears are determined to live forever. But I know better than them all that’s impossible. Nothing lasts forever. Everything dies. Everything except… you and the Slender Man.” It paused, and I expected more of its laughter, but none came. “That shell you’re in, that’s going to die. I can see the timer ticking down. Not much more time left on it, boss. But you… the Crawling Chaos, Nyarlathotep… there’s nothing. When I look at you or the Slender Man, I don’t see any sign of death. No decay. Nothing lasts forever… except for the two of you. When I look at you, it’s like I’m looking into eternity. And that terrifies me.”
Those words were still in my head as the universe collapsed and I had to move to the next one.
I destroyed all of them. I will not let any trace of the Fears survive.
There’s still more of these pocket universes out there. I can feel them. I can feel… everything now. When I look at my hand, I no longer see just a hand. I see a massive collection of subatomic particles spinning around each other. When I take a step, I’m fully aware of the reaction that transfers energy altering my nervous system that my foot has touched the ground. It’s weird, but somehow it feels so natural.
I can also sense the Earth. It’s still there. Just a single timeline, the last remnant of the entire multiverse, being held together by the Manufactured Newborn. I’ll return there soon. Once I’ve dealt with everything else.
As I moved through these universes, I found another Fear. Although this meeting was rather different from my last encounter with their kind.
The universe was a wasteland. Black, cracked ground went on for miles without any variance or even change in elevation. Looked even more boring than the desert had been. I walked around for a while, hoping to find something interesting before I destroyed the place. That was when I heard the voice.
“Well, well, you finally decided to pay my humble home a visit, boss.” The voice sounded like someone trying to gargle phlegm while simultaneously swallowing a fist full of gravel.
Given the recent hostility I’ve been encountering, I immediately got ready to fight. “Where are you?”
“Where am I? Why, I’m right here.
And over here.
And here too.
I’m everywhere.” I’m assuming the sound that followed was laughter, though it sounded more like someone coughing up their lungs.In response to that, I punched a hole in reality.
“Alright, alright, jeez.” The voice said. “No sense of humor. Well then, allow me to introduce myself. Hello, Nyarlathotep, my name is the Dying Man, and it is ever so pleasant to meet you.”
Still no sign of where the voice was coming from. “Yeah, yeah, nice to meet ya too, now stop fucking hiding and get out of here.”
More of its laughter. “And just how to you expect me to do that, boss? I’m a body surfer, and in case you hadn’t noticed, there aren’t any bodies left anymore. EAT snatched up the last few humans before the world ended, the bastard. And while I usually would leap at the opportunity to take over such a fine young lady as yourself, that fleshy container is already hosting an Outer God. And I don’t fancy my chances tangling with you over ownership of your little meat shell, boss.”
Still kept looking around, expecting some kind of attack. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t call my body a ‘meat shell’, kay thanks.”
“Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it. You wanna keep yourself stuck in that thing, I ain’t gonna judge.”
My teeth were grinding in frustration at this conversation. “The fuck do you want? I’ve got a lot of stuff to destroy, so I’d rather you not waste my time.”
“Woah there boss, no need for this anger. I was just hoping you and I could have a little chat, something for me to pass the time before I disappear.”
That last word caught my attention. “What do you mean, disappear?”
“Exactly what it sounds like I mean, boss. What am I supposed to do now that everyone’s been killed off? I’m the Dying Man, not the Dead Man. Corpses are useless for me. What good is the embodiment of death when there’s nothing left capable of dying?” More of its hacking laughter. “What did one of you humans say? Oh yeah; And with strange aeons, even death may die.” Another round of laughter, which slowly died away. When the Dying Man’s voice came back, it was much softer. “So how’s this gonna go down? Are you going to smash the whole place up and kill me quickly? Or just walk off and let the damage you’ve already done finish me off?”
I looked at the hole I’d made in reality. Cracks were already spreading from it, expanding the emptiness. I hadn’t spared a second to thinking about the consequences when I made it. It was just a spontaneous act of anger.
“I… I didn’t….”
“What this, boss? The great Nyarlathotep shouldn’t be feeling doubt. I’m a Fear, aren’t I? The hated foe! Hurry up and get to the manslaughter!”
There was a part of me that wanted to do just that. But mostly I just felt uncomfortable about the whole situation. Yeah, the Dying Man was a Fear, but it wasn’t doing anything to me. Before this point, I don’t think the Dying Man and I had ever actually met, which is a big difference when compared to all the Fears who kept actively trying to screw up my life.
As if reading my mind, the Dying Man said, “Can’t do it? You never did got the cold blooded murderer thing down. You always needed some excuse to justify it first. I’ve seen it a million times before. People like you who need someone to be pointing a knife at them before they’re willing to shoot.”
“Shut up.” Can’t exactly say it was wrong. I just wished it would attack me or something. It would have made the whole thing simpler. “I need a drink.”
“Then why not make one, boss?”
“Oh, yeah, I’ll just wave my hand and magically make one appear out of thin air, shouldn’t be too hard to do in this empty wasteland.”
“Yeah, why not do that?”
I just stared at the spot I’d last heard the voice from. “I was joking.”
“And I wasn’t. If you want something to drink, just go and make something to drink. There’s no reason you can’t, boss.”
“No reason except its fucking impossible for me to just make things spontaneously appear out of thin air.”
“Is it now? How did you get that little notebook of yours, then?”
I pulled the book out of my coat pocket. “This? I got this when I was being held by the government.”
“Really? That’s pretty impressive boss. Holding onto the same notebook after all you’ve been through. Most people would have dropped it during that whole apocalypse business. But you held on! Even when you threw away the coat that you had been keeping it in, you still somehow kept it!”
“I….” I had taken the journal out of my last trench coat before I’d thrown it away, right? And then I must have just carried it in my hands until I got my new coat…?
“But that’s not even half as impressive as your ability to keep writing utensils on hand! One would expect any regular pen’s ink to have dried up by this point, but you’ve managed to keep on writing anyways!”
Pens? Um… yeah, I… I had lots of pens. I had to have them. That’s how I’ve been writing things down. I just couldn’t find or remember any of them at the moment.
“But most amazing of all has to be your writing speed! You’ve been hunted almost nonstop since the Slender Man tore down Red Cap’s place, but you’ve still written pages of material in the brief moments of calm! It’s almost as if the words are appearing on the paper!”
I started flipping through the notebook. I could remember thinking about writing everything in it. But for the last few entries, I couldn’t remember actually writing them down. And yet they were right there on the pages. “But… I mean… how….”
The sarcasm finally left the Dying Man’s voice. “Because you’re a god. You wanted a record of what’s happened to you, so it became reality. It’s the same principle with making a drink. You want something. Now make it exist.”
Pondered that for a while. Then I tried thinking “I really want a drink” as hard as I could. Nothing happened.
“It’s not working.”
“Well of course it’s not, boss. You keep trying to think with that meat shell’s brain instead of your own mind. Just pull back from it, then give it a whirl.”
Didn’t understand exactly what it meant, but I tried following the advice. Don’t know how to describe the feeling exactly. It was sort of like letting go of my own body. And suddenly, I could see the molecules all around me. Making things out of them was so easy. I just had to move a few atoms around, form some chemical bonds, and….
A small globe of whiskey appeared a few inches from my face. It instantly fell, and splashed on the ground.
“Ah, yeah, you should have made a glass too, boss.”
I almost didn’t hear the Dying Man. I was too excited about what I’d done. It had been so simple! “This is… this is amazing! There’s so many things I can do with this!”
“Glad you think so, boss. Now you’ll be ready for when the Rake tries jumping his little ambush on you.”
“…. The Rake what?”
“Oops, did I say something? Nah, just ignore that. I didn’t say anything about the Rake getting the Black Dog and Intrusion together and waiting to attack you in the Empty City.” A chuckle.
Okay, cool, four Fears all in the same place. That would speed up the process of wiping them out. But one thing I had to know first. “Why are you telling me this? Why help me?”
“Don’t look at me like that, boss. I can already see you trying to go and put me in a neat little ‘Good Fear’ category, so you can differentiate me from all the ones you put in the ‘Bad Fear’ box. That whole black and white morality thing you keep trying to push on everything is just plain creepy, especially given what you are. Just because someone helped you doesn’t mean they’re a good person. Especially considering you’re not exactly a shining paragon, Mrs. Genocide.”
“The Fears were the ones who killed all those people!”
“I am a Fear, boss. And while I can’t speak for the others, I was certainly content to just laze around and slowly murder people one by one, up to the point where you went and blew up two universes at once.”
“I had to save Lisa!”
“Of course you did. And I’m sure all those people who got caught in the collateral damage would perfectly understand. You might even get a chance to explain it to them when you meet with Archangel. You’ve certainly been a boon to him, considering all those billions of souls you kindly sent his way.”
“If you don’t shut up right now I will tear this whole universe down.”
“Ooh, you’ve got me quivering in fear, boss. Eh? Get it? Fear?”
This time, I was fully aware of what the consequences would be when I smashed another hole in reality. This one was much larger than the last, and within seconds it was spreading across the universe.
As the sky fell apart like glass, the Dying Man spoke, so quietly I almost didn’t hear it. “Why did I tell you about the Rake’s ambush? Why not? They’re going to die soon. Even if it’s not by your hands, their time is almost up. So many of us Fears are determined to live forever. But I know better than them all that’s impossible. Nothing lasts forever. Everything dies. Everything except… you and the Slender Man.” It paused, and I expected more of its laughter, but none came. “That shell you’re in, that’s going to die. I can see the timer ticking down. Not much more time left on it, boss. But you… the Crawling Chaos, Nyarlathotep… there’s nothing. When I look at you or the Slender Man, I don’t see any sign of death. No decay. Nothing lasts forever… except for the two of you. When I look at you, it’s like I’m looking into eternity. And that terrifies me.”
Those words were still in my head as the universe collapsed and I had to move to the next one.
Monday, September 16, 2013
The Winter Court
The blizzard was doing little to hinder I-330’s progress across the ice covered wasteland. The wind should have frozen a human to death in minutes, but she didn’t even feel the cold. The snow came down so thick that it looked like a white wall, but I-330 didn’t care about visibility. She knew that if a Fear wanted to find her, it would.
That prediction was fulfilled soon, as the storm died down enough for I-330 to see a castle of ice in front of her. This was not the ornate palace she had seen in the Wooden Girl’s realm: it was fortress, angular and harsh. The white gate slowly opened as I-330 approached, leading into a courtyard filled with statues. Or at least, I-330’s first impression was that they were statues. As she got closer to them, she realized they were people, frozen in place. All the victims had their faces frozen in similar expressions, but it was not in fear, as I-330 had expected. Rather, they all looked terribly sad. As if being frozen alive being frozen alive had only been a continuation of whatever grief they had been experiencing.
Morbid curiosity made her examine the frozen people longer than she should have. The echo of a young boy’s laughter quickly reminded her that she was still in the domain of a Fear, and such distractions could be fatal.
The laughter had come from past the courtyard, further inside the castle. I-330 stepped through another gate, and appeared on top of one of the castle’s towers. She didn’t question the impossible change; by this point, such oddities had ceased to astound her. The laughing continued, coming from all around. I-330 tolerated it only for a few moments before annoyance triggered her into action. With a powerful swing, she brought her fist down on the tower, cracking the ice. Which she quickly realized was a very bad decision, as the floor beneath her crumbled and fell away, leaving her to plummet several stories.
Before she hit the ground, an unseen force stopped her fall. The boy’s laughter was joined by that of a girl’s, and out from the blizzard the Cold Boy and the Wooden Girl appeared.
I-330 felt the strings that had caught her tightening around her limbs, until they started to break the skin. The Wooden Girl laughed at the sight of blood, and gave the Cold Boy a hug. “Good work, Little Blue!” It said. “I was worried someone else might get to my pet before me, but you were kind enough to tell me she’d arrived!” It let go of the Cold Boy, and started to gather strings around its fingers. “Now we can start to play!”
I-330 had not spent her time since being caught idly waiting for the Girl to finish speaking. While the Girl was distracted, her shadow arm had grown into multiple tentacles that wrapped around the strings holding her. As the Girl finished talking, the tentacles simultaneously cut all the strings, dropping I-330 to the ground.
Her first instinct was to run. Run as fast as she could, and not stop until she had gained several universes of distance between her and the Girl.
No. No more running.
The thought hit her with the force of a truck, each syllable screaming for attention.
I can fight them. I can beat them.
She stopped moving, and planted her feet in the snow. Anger that had been building in her for years was boiling to the top, threatening to explode. She’d been running for so long. Sometimes it felt like the only thing she ever did. And what had she gotten for it?
Of course the Wooden Girl wasn’t letting the escape attempt go ignored. More strings came at I-330, aiming for her hands and feet. In a rush of motion, I-330’s shadow hand grabbed the strings, and tore them apart. Then she started running. Not away from the Wooden Girl. Towards it.
The Cold Boy took a step forward, but the Girl placed a hand on its shoulder to stop it. “Nuh-uh, Little Blue.” It said. “She’s my pet to play with. You can play with her when I’m done.” Strings came from the ground beneath I-330, and wrapped around her feet. She was lifted high into the air, and the strings let her go, dropping her onto the jagged ruins.
I-330 laid still where she had fallen, bleeding heavily onto the ground for some time. “Come on and get up!” The Wooden Girl said. “I know you’re still alive!”
“Yeah, yeah….” I-330 muttered as she stood up. “These sharp pieces of ice broke my fall.” She knew she should have been in pain, but such sensations seemed far away. Even as she pulled out a shard that had gone straight through her gut, the worst she felt was a mild discomfort. She felt focused, more than ever before. The enemy was in front of her. The only thing that mattered was destroying it.
One of her tentacles wrapped around a piece of frozen debris larger than she was, and lifted it up. She started spinning it around her head, gaining momentum, until she let go. The debris struck the Girl at blinding speed, crushing its body instantly. I-330 tensed in anticipation of a counterattack, but none came. The splintered remains of the Girl didn’t move at all. With growing confidence, I-330 walked toward the body. When it continued to make no motion, she picked up the debris and threw it aside. There was a moment of elation at the victory, but it soon shifted to confusion when she looked at the remains of the Girl’s head. Where there should have been a face painted on was only blank wood.
“Bad pet. Very bad.” The Wooden Girl’s voice giggled through I-330’s head. “Now I have to punish you.”
Strings appeared around I-330s right forearm, and twisted it until the bone cracked. More strings wrapped around I-330’s chest, cutting her flesh and grinding across bone. The Wooden Girl skipped out from behind I-330, completely unharmed, without even a wrinkle on its red dress.
“Making a new body is so inconvenient. I need to teach you never to do that again.”
The pain should have been unbearable. But even with part of her bone sticking out of her arm, I-330 felt numbed. She had to destroy the Fear. Killing them was all that mattered. The sensory messages of a few nerves were irrelevant. With a roar of anger, she punched through the Girl’s chest with a tentacle. The Girl initially appeared unfazed by the attack. “I thought you would have learned how pointless that is by now. I can repair any damage you do.”
“Really?” I-330 snarled. “Cause I don’t think you’ll be repairing this.”
The Girl looked down at its chest. Where I-330 had punched through was a hole of absolute nothingness, with small cracks spreading from it across the Girl’s body. “How did you-” Before the Girl could finish, I-330 punched it in the head. The left half of its face and much of the air around it shattered away into oblivion. What was left of the Wooden Girl’s face painted itself into fear as the strings holding I-330 vanished. The moment she was free she rushed the Girl and grabbed one of its arms. The Girl tried pulling away, and I-330 ripped the arm off, tearing more nothingness onto its body.
Strings lashed across I-330’s body, but she ignored the gashes. She leaned closer to the Girl and whispered, “Scream for me, little god.”
The Wooden Girl turned and fled. It didn’t make it very far before one of I-330’s tentacles struck the ground in front of it, breaking apart that stretch of reality. The Girl tried running in a different direction, but I-330 smashed that path as well, leaving another chasm of emptiness across the ground. Another tentacle hit the Girl’s legs, breaking them off. The Girl started crawling across the snow with its remaining arm, until it reached the Cold Boy.
“Little Blue! Help me!”
The Cold Boy took the Girl’s hand. The Girl smiled, but a second later fear was painted over the smile. Ice had started to spread from the Boy’s hand, growing down the Girl’s arm.
“No! Little Blue, what are you doing?” The ice completely covered the Girl’s arm, and started spreading across its body. “Stop it! Stop it, Cold Boy! I order you to stop!”
The Girl’s voice grew soft as the ice spread, until it was silenced completely. The Cold Boy poked the frozen Girl few times to see if it would move. When it didn’t, the Boy picked up the girl and walked to one of the gashes of nothing in the ground.
“Ashes, ashes….” The Boy said in a singsong voice. “We all… fall… down!” On the last word, it threw the Girl into the Quiet.
I-330 had been watching the events passively to the side. She felt some disappointment at the fall of the Girl. She’d been hoping for the chance to kill it herself. But the disappointment wasn’t strong enough to motivate her to intervene. And there was still another Fear to be dealt with. Her arm shifted into a blade, and she charged. The Cold Boy called down the full force of the blizzard, and the winds howled with a force that could have leveled mountains. It didn’t impede I-330 in the slighted. The Boy tried creating a wall of ice around him, but she cut through it.
I-330 swung the blade, cleaving a line of emptiness behind it as it cut through the air. Just before it hit, the Cold Boy exhaled. When its breath touched I-330, her vision went black, and she felt herself falling backwards into her memories.
The halls of the high school were filled with students, but Lisa did everything she could to avoid any eye contact. She held her head down, hair framing either side, with her books kept to her chest like a shield.
A group of students had stopped to talk in the middle of the hall, preventing Lisa from going forward. She looked for a way through them, but the only paths she could see involved pushing through, which she couldn’t bring herself to do. “Um….” She said, too quiet to be heard by anyone. “E-excuse me….” Her words remained unheard. Then the bell rang, and the group quickly broke apart as they rushed to their classes.
When Lisa opened the door to her class, she said, “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Robinson.” The teacher at the front of the room looked surprised by her appearance.
“Oh, Lisa!” He said. “I didn’t realize you weren’t here. Well, go ahead and take your seat.”
The class passed without Lisa saying another word. When lunch came, Lisa sat alone at a table, reading a book with one hand while mechanically eating a sandwich in the other. She was so engrossed in her book, that she was unaware someone had walked up to her table until he said, “Excuse me?”
Lisa almost jumped at the sudden voice. A boy was standing by standing by one of the table’s empty chairs, a slight smile on his face over her obvious surprise. Lisa stared at him for several seconds before remembering that she should say something. Her words rushed out in what might have been a “Hello” or maybe a “Yes?”
“Is anyone using this chair?”
What felt like a million different thoughts rushed into her head. Was he asking if he could sit with her? How does my hair look? Isn’t he in my math class? What am I supposed to say?
In the end, she managed to get out a, “No.”
“Oh, good. Thanks!” He picked up the chair, and took it with him as he walked away to another table.
The memories pulled away, and I-330 was alone again in darkness. A child’s voice began speaking, almost singing, to her from the blackness.
“So many days alone. Always so alone. There has never been anyone who you could open up to. No one who understood you.”
For some reason, I-330 suddenly felt extremely cold. Her voice shook as she tried to speak. “Th-there was Lisa….”
The voice giggled. “The only person in all time and space capable of loving you was yourself. And you lost even her. You’ll never see her again. You’ll never see anyone again. You killed them all.”
I-330 had never felt so cold before. It was like her entire body had been frozen. The voice continued to taunt her, but she didn’t have the strength to respond. Layers of emotional walls came down, tearing down the mask of the energetic, confident adventurer, leaving behind a hurt, lonely child. The memories resumed, drowning her senses in years of pain.
The Cold Boy walked around I-330’s frozen body, making sure the ice completely covered her. Her mental barriers were coming down rapidly now, letting out all the emotions she’d been suppressing through her life. Still the memories rushed past I-330. She could barely process the rush of emotions coming at her. But there was one feeling rising above the others. It had been faint at first, but it was growing brighter.
Another memory came to I-330. Lisa was holding a knife in her hand, and stabbing it down into her father. Strike back against those that hurt you. Destroy your oppressors.
Beneath the pain, past the loneliness, was only one feeling: Rage. The anger of a neglected child, combined with the fury of a vengeful god, drowning out all the loneliness.
The ice on I-330 flew off as she tore herself out of the frozen cage. The Cold Boy just managed to jump away before it was smashed by I-330’s tentacles. It started to run, barely keeping ahead of the tentacles smashing apart the ground. Then, something grabbed its leg. A string had come out of one of the empty gashes on the ground, and wrapped around the Cold Boy. It tried to pull away, but more strings came out of the Quiet, wrapping around its limbs. It kept struggling as I-330 got closer, but was held fast.
I-330 stopped less than a foot away from the Boy. It looked up at her, face covered in terror. She pulled back her left arm, and then swung down, smashing through the Cold Boy, breaking it apart until her fist hit the ground. The Boy, the strings holding it, and even the ground I-330 hit all shattered apart into nothing.
The blizzard stopped, leaving only silence. I-330 took a brief moment to look over the remains of this pocket universes. The cracks from her battle were already spreading across the snowy land. Soon everything in it would disappear. I-330 took a deep breath to collect herself, and then moved to the next universe.
That prediction was fulfilled soon, as the storm died down enough for I-330 to see a castle of ice in front of her. This was not the ornate palace she had seen in the Wooden Girl’s realm: it was fortress, angular and harsh. The white gate slowly opened as I-330 approached, leading into a courtyard filled with statues. Or at least, I-330’s first impression was that they were statues. As she got closer to them, she realized they were people, frozen in place. All the victims had their faces frozen in similar expressions, but it was not in fear, as I-330 had expected. Rather, they all looked terribly sad. As if being frozen alive being frozen alive had only been a continuation of whatever grief they had been experiencing.
Morbid curiosity made her examine the frozen people longer than she should have. The echo of a young boy’s laughter quickly reminded her that she was still in the domain of a Fear, and such distractions could be fatal.
The laughter had come from past the courtyard, further inside the castle. I-330 stepped through another gate, and appeared on top of one of the castle’s towers. She didn’t question the impossible change; by this point, such oddities had ceased to astound her. The laughing continued, coming from all around. I-330 tolerated it only for a few moments before annoyance triggered her into action. With a powerful swing, she brought her fist down on the tower, cracking the ice. Which she quickly realized was a very bad decision, as the floor beneath her crumbled and fell away, leaving her to plummet several stories.
Before she hit the ground, an unseen force stopped her fall. The boy’s laughter was joined by that of a girl’s, and out from the blizzard the Cold Boy and the Wooden Girl appeared.
I-330 felt the strings that had caught her tightening around her limbs, until they started to break the skin. The Wooden Girl laughed at the sight of blood, and gave the Cold Boy a hug. “Good work, Little Blue!” It said. “I was worried someone else might get to my pet before me, but you were kind enough to tell me she’d arrived!” It let go of the Cold Boy, and started to gather strings around its fingers. “Now we can start to play!”
I-330 had not spent her time since being caught idly waiting for the Girl to finish speaking. While the Girl was distracted, her shadow arm had grown into multiple tentacles that wrapped around the strings holding her. As the Girl finished talking, the tentacles simultaneously cut all the strings, dropping I-330 to the ground.
Her first instinct was to run. Run as fast as she could, and not stop until she had gained several universes of distance between her and the Girl.
No. No more running.
The thought hit her with the force of a truck, each syllable screaming for attention.
I can fight them. I can beat them.
She stopped moving, and planted her feet in the snow. Anger that had been building in her for years was boiling to the top, threatening to explode. She’d been running for so long. Sometimes it felt like the only thing she ever did. And what had she gotten for it?
Of course the Wooden Girl wasn’t letting the escape attempt go ignored. More strings came at I-330, aiming for her hands and feet. In a rush of motion, I-330’s shadow hand grabbed the strings, and tore them apart. Then she started running. Not away from the Wooden Girl. Towards it.
The Cold Boy took a step forward, but the Girl placed a hand on its shoulder to stop it. “Nuh-uh, Little Blue.” It said. “She’s my pet to play with. You can play with her when I’m done.” Strings came from the ground beneath I-330, and wrapped around her feet. She was lifted high into the air, and the strings let her go, dropping her onto the jagged ruins.
I-330 laid still where she had fallen, bleeding heavily onto the ground for some time. “Come on and get up!” The Wooden Girl said. “I know you’re still alive!”
“Yeah, yeah….” I-330 muttered as she stood up. “These sharp pieces of ice broke my fall.” She knew she should have been in pain, but such sensations seemed far away. Even as she pulled out a shard that had gone straight through her gut, the worst she felt was a mild discomfort. She felt focused, more than ever before. The enemy was in front of her. The only thing that mattered was destroying it.
One of her tentacles wrapped around a piece of frozen debris larger than she was, and lifted it up. She started spinning it around her head, gaining momentum, until she let go. The debris struck the Girl at blinding speed, crushing its body instantly. I-330 tensed in anticipation of a counterattack, but none came. The splintered remains of the Girl didn’t move at all. With growing confidence, I-330 walked toward the body. When it continued to make no motion, she picked up the debris and threw it aside. There was a moment of elation at the victory, but it soon shifted to confusion when she looked at the remains of the Girl’s head. Where there should have been a face painted on was only blank wood.
“Bad pet. Very bad.” The Wooden Girl’s voice giggled through I-330’s head. “Now I have to punish you.”
Strings appeared around I-330s right forearm, and twisted it until the bone cracked. More strings wrapped around I-330’s chest, cutting her flesh and grinding across bone. The Wooden Girl skipped out from behind I-330, completely unharmed, without even a wrinkle on its red dress.
“Making a new body is so inconvenient. I need to teach you never to do that again.”
The pain should have been unbearable. But even with part of her bone sticking out of her arm, I-330 felt numbed. She had to destroy the Fear. Killing them was all that mattered. The sensory messages of a few nerves were irrelevant. With a roar of anger, she punched through the Girl’s chest with a tentacle. The Girl initially appeared unfazed by the attack. “I thought you would have learned how pointless that is by now. I can repair any damage you do.”
“Really?” I-330 snarled. “Cause I don’t think you’ll be repairing this.”
The Girl looked down at its chest. Where I-330 had punched through was a hole of absolute nothingness, with small cracks spreading from it across the Girl’s body. “How did you-” Before the Girl could finish, I-330 punched it in the head. The left half of its face and much of the air around it shattered away into oblivion. What was left of the Wooden Girl’s face painted itself into fear as the strings holding I-330 vanished. The moment she was free she rushed the Girl and grabbed one of its arms. The Girl tried pulling away, and I-330 ripped the arm off, tearing more nothingness onto its body.
Strings lashed across I-330’s body, but she ignored the gashes. She leaned closer to the Girl and whispered, “Scream for me, little god.”
The Wooden Girl turned and fled. It didn’t make it very far before one of I-330’s tentacles struck the ground in front of it, breaking apart that stretch of reality. The Girl tried running in a different direction, but I-330 smashed that path as well, leaving another chasm of emptiness across the ground. Another tentacle hit the Girl’s legs, breaking them off. The Girl started crawling across the snow with its remaining arm, until it reached the Cold Boy.
“Little Blue! Help me!”
The Cold Boy took the Girl’s hand. The Girl smiled, but a second later fear was painted over the smile. Ice had started to spread from the Boy’s hand, growing down the Girl’s arm.
“No! Little Blue, what are you doing?” The ice completely covered the Girl’s arm, and started spreading across its body. “Stop it! Stop it, Cold Boy! I order you to stop!”
The Girl’s voice grew soft as the ice spread, until it was silenced completely. The Cold Boy poked the frozen Girl few times to see if it would move. When it didn’t, the Boy picked up the girl and walked to one of the gashes of nothing in the ground.
“Ashes, ashes….” The Boy said in a singsong voice. “We all… fall… down!” On the last word, it threw the Girl into the Quiet.
I-330 had been watching the events passively to the side. She felt some disappointment at the fall of the Girl. She’d been hoping for the chance to kill it herself. But the disappointment wasn’t strong enough to motivate her to intervene. And there was still another Fear to be dealt with. Her arm shifted into a blade, and she charged. The Cold Boy called down the full force of the blizzard, and the winds howled with a force that could have leveled mountains. It didn’t impede I-330 in the slighted. The Boy tried creating a wall of ice around him, but she cut through it.
I-330 swung the blade, cleaving a line of emptiness behind it as it cut through the air. Just before it hit, the Cold Boy exhaled. When its breath touched I-330, her vision went black, and she felt herself falling backwards into her memories.
The halls of the high school were filled with students, but Lisa did everything she could to avoid any eye contact. She held her head down, hair framing either side, with her books kept to her chest like a shield.
A group of students had stopped to talk in the middle of the hall, preventing Lisa from going forward. She looked for a way through them, but the only paths she could see involved pushing through, which she couldn’t bring herself to do. “Um….” She said, too quiet to be heard by anyone. “E-excuse me….” Her words remained unheard. Then the bell rang, and the group quickly broke apart as they rushed to their classes.
When Lisa opened the door to her class, she said, “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Robinson.” The teacher at the front of the room looked surprised by her appearance.
“Oh, Lisa!” He said. “I didn’t realize you weren’t here. Well, go ahead and take your seat.”
The class passed without Lisa saying another word. When lunch came, Lisa sat alone at a table, reading a book with one hand while mechanically eating a sandwich in the other. She was so engrossed in her book, that she was unaware someone had walked up to her table until he said, “Excuse me?”
Lisa almost jumped at the sudden voice. A boy was standing by standing by one of the table’s empty chairs, a slight smile on his face over her obvious surprise. Lisa stared at him for several seconds before remembering that she should say something. Her words rushed out in what might have been a “Hello” or maybe a “Yes?”
“Is anyone using this chair?”
What felt like a million different thoughts rushed into her head. Was he asking if he could sit with her? How does my hair look? Isn’t he in my math class? What am I supposed to say?
In the end, she managed to get out a, “No.”
“Oh, good. Thanks!” He picked up the chair, and took it with him as he walked away to another table.
The memories pulled away, and I-330 was alone again in darkness. A child’s voice began speaking, almost singing, to her from the blackness.
“So many days alone. Always so alone. There has never been anyone who you could open up to. No one who understood you.”
For some reason, I-330 suddenly felt extremely cold. Her voice shook as she tried to speak. “Th-there was Lisa….”
The voice giggled. “The only person in all time and space capable of loving you was yourself. And you lost even her. You’ll never see her again. You’ll never see anyone again. You killed them all.”
I-330 had never felt so cold before. It was like her entire body had been frozen. The voice continued to taunt her, but she didn’t have the strength to respond. Layers of emotional walls came down, tearing down the mask of the energetic, confident adventurer, leaving behind a hurt, lonely child. The memories resumed, drowning her senses in years of pain.
The Cold Boy walked around I-330’s frozen body, making sure the ice completely covered her. Her mental barriers were coming down rapidly now, letting out all the emotions she’d been suppressing through her life. Still the memories rushed past I-330. She could barely process the rush of emotions coming at her. But there was one feeling rising above the others. It had been faint at first, but it was growing brighter.
Another memory came to I-330. Lisa was holding a knife in her hand, and stabbing it down into her father. Strike back against those that hurt you. Destroy your oppressors.
Beneath the pain, past the loneliness, was only one feeling: Rage. The anger of a neglected child, combined with the fury of a vengeful god, drowning out all the loneliness.
The ice on I-330 flew off as she tore herself out of the frozen cage. The Cold Boy just managed to jump away before it was smashed by I-330’s tentacles. It started to run, barely keeping ahead of the tentacles smashing apart the ground. Then, something grabbed its leg. A string had come out of one of the empty gashes on the ground, and wrapped around the Cold Boy. It tried to pull away, but more strings came out of the Quiet, wrapping around its limbs. It kept struggling as I-330 got closer, but was held fast.
I-330 stopped less than a foot away from the Boy. It looked up at her, face covered in terror. She pulled back her left arm, and then swung down, smashing through the Cold Boy, breaking it apart until her fist hit the ground. The Boy, the strings holding it, and even the ground I-330 hit all shattered apart into nothing.
The blizzard stopped, leaving only silence. I-330 took a brief moment to look over the remains of this pocket universes. The cracks from her battle were already spreading across the snowy land. Soon everything in it would disappear. I-330 took a deep breath to collect herself, and then moved to the next universe.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Oasis
The lake wasn’t a mirage. A real oasis, amongst what had seemed an endless world of sand.
After suffering from thirst for so long, I didn’t exactly have much self-control when I saw it. I practically threw myself at the water, trying to grab as much as I could with each handful. Felt like I could drink the whole lake, and I’d still be thirsty.
But as I swallowed more water, I started noticing a metallic taste in it. Looked down at my hands in the water, and saw blood coming off them. Pulled them out, as blood continued ripping off them. There was no open wound anywhere on them, but the blood kept flowing from between my fingers. In a panic, I threw them back into the water, trying to get it off. It was a wasted effort; no matter how much I washed off, there was still more. The red spread through the lake, until the clear water had turned crimson.
At last, with the lake completely changed, the blood stopped. I wanted to recoil from the pool of blood that had replaced the oasis, but felt unable to pull my eyes away. The blood beneath my face began to whirl, and the color pulled away, creating an empty circle. The water in the circle wasn’t clear like before, but perfectly reflective, like a mirror. It was weird, seeing my face like that. Haven’t had the chance to look at it in a while. Almost didn’t recognize myself. Looked halfway like a corpse. Or maybe a skeleton held together by skin, blood, and dirt.
The water shifted again, and a new face was looking at me. For a split second, I thought it was Grendel. But no, this was a woman. I stared at it, trying to understand why it seemed so familiar. The realization struck as something of a surprise: it was me. Or, me if I was cleaned up and not starving to death. All my scars were gone on her, and she still had my suit and trench coat, but they were both completely black, with the only splash of color coming from a green tie. Her smile was filled with shark like teeth, and her two burning red eyes seemed to pierce through me. I moved my hand to where my right eye would be, and the reflection followed, but I still only felt my eye patch, and the empty socket beneath.
The reflection began to move on its own, lunging toward me. Before I could respond, its arms broke from beneath the water and grabbed around my waist, quickly pulling me under. I panicked, thinking I was going to drown, but when I fell through the lake, I wasn’t underwater. I was in a black void, without any sign of anything else around me.
Looked around for something in the emptiness, and finally a light appeared by me. Images flashed in it, showing me my life in reverse. All the things I’ve done. The mistakes I’ve made. The people I’ve killed. Every horrible decision. But when it got to the point where I became I-330, the images began to diverge from what I remember. The perspective was wrong; it wasn’t of me falling into the Quiet, but of me already inside, watching Lisa falling. Then the images went further back, into events I didn’t remember at all. I stood amongst a field of stars, and the Slender Man stood opposed to me. With a mere though, I pulled a star to me. A massive ball of fire, and I balanced it easily in the palm of my hand. With a wave, I threw the star at the Slender Man.
The images flashed further back, and I saw my worshippers flocking to the massive temples they had erected in my honor. Their numbers were uncountable, across millions of planets through the abyss of times. Humanity was barely a speck amongst them; a single species on a single planet that existed for only a heartbeat. It amused me to see all the tribute gathered for me. They believed they could avoid my wrath with such gifts. But it was my boredom, not my anger, that they should have feared. They were like flies to me, and they existed so I could pull their wings off. I raised a species of dumb animals to intelligence, then stole their sentience away at the height of their empire. Another race I granted immensely powerful weapons, then laughed as they destroyed themselves. All of reality was my toy. All existed for my amusement.
Further back. There were no starts of planets here. Nothing but the unmolded chaos of Azathoth’s dreams. I could feel the presence of Yog-Sothoth and Sub-Nigurtath, but I didn’t care about them. They were just mindless monsters. No entertainment to be gained from them. And then, the images stopped. I was back in the blackness beneath the lake. But now, someone else was there with me. A tall, proud looking man with dark skin, black eyes, and a golden crown. Recognized him as the Pharaoh I’d seen in R’lyeh.
His voice was softer this time, but it still had that sense of earth shaking authority behind every word. “I suppose it would be too much to expect you would experience a revelation from what you saw.”
“…Alright what the fuck is going on here. Didn’t I kill you or something already?”
“From a certain perspective, yes. Although a better phrase would be that you inherited me.”
Tried to remember back to what had happened. Hadn’t been in my best state of mind when I fought Grendel on R’lyeh. What with the sword through my stomach. “You’re… Nyarlathotep?”
“No.” I blinked, and his appearance changed into the same as the reflection I’d seen in the lake. It spoke again, now with my voice. “You are Nyarlathotep. You really need to stop treating me as a separate entity from yourself.”
“What? I’m not… I know I’m, well, kinda like the spawn of Nyarlathotep or something like that. I’ve had enough Fears telling it to me for it to be drilled into my head.”
“Really? Because you were very quick to accuse me of being Nyarlathotep.”
“Well, you’re, like, I don’t know, the mental incarnation of him or something? The source of those whispers I’ve been hearing or something?”
“No.” I blinked again, and she was gone. But I could still hear her voice. “There is no ‘incarnation’ of Nyarlathotep in your head. Nyarlathotep does not have some kind of separate presence in your mind. You never heard any whispers. There has only ever been one voice in your head. Yours.”
Looked around, trying to find some source of that voice. I wanted it to be coming from outside. Wanted it to be from anywhere but my own head. It wasn’t.
“You’ve gone to such amazing lengths to deny your identity, and treat everything relating to Nyarlathotep as though it was an outside force. Calling your own thoughts ‘voices’. Claiming you don’t know how you kept getting greater control over your abilities. Treating recalling memories as information being put in your head. You are so determined to portray yourself as a human who just happens to have weird things happen to her, in spite of the fact that you aren’t human at all. You never have been.”
“No, I’m… I….” Kept thinking back to the images I’d seen, of the god who toyed with the universe. Who would lead billions to their death just for a quick laugh. “I’m not that. I’m nothing like that.”
“Maybe not. But you were. And you will be again, if you want the power to defeat the Slender Man.”
“No! Stop… why are you trying so hard to convince me?”
“I’m not.” Blinked again, and a mirror was in front of me. This time, the reflection wasn’t changed; it looked exactly like me. “I am you. You’re already partially convinced. You just need to stop this pointless internal conflict, and you can finally start getting some real progress done.”
This conversation was rapidly approaching my tolerance level for smug people telling me what to do. So I smashed the mirror. The moment it shattered, the void was gone, and I was underwater. Took a few moments to get myself oriented, until I saw a light above me. Swam towards it, until I came out in the middle of the oasis.
There’d been some changes since I fell into the lake. My suit and coat are back, but they’re black, like the reflection’s had been. Don’t feel hungry or thirsty anymore, and I look much healthier. Still have all those scars.
And much to my surprise, in the time I was gone, the Slender Man’s tree had grown on the horizon. Knew I would need to run again. But not the panicked flight I’d done previously. New knowledge, or memories, or whatever they were, were bubbling to the surface of my mind. I couldn’t fight against the Slender Man. But maybe I could slow it down.
The shadows of my left arm started to shift until chaotic shapes, until it only resembled an arm in that it was a limb attached to my body. They tore through the air in front of me, and the space shattered like glass, leaving a tear of nothingness. Cracks spread from that nothingness, causing more of the space to vanish, rapidly consuming the entire desert. As this universe fell apart, I could feel others like it close by. I grabbed onto one, and pulled myself into it.
Another wasteland. But this time, a wasteland of snow.
Let’s see what I can find here.
After suffering from thirst for so long, I didn’t exactly have much self-control when I saw it. I practically threw myself at the water, trying to grab as much as I could with each handful. Felt like I could drink the whole lake, and I’d still be thirsty.
But as I swallowed more water, I started noticing a metallic taste in it. Looked down at my hands in the water, and saw blood coming off them. Pulled them out, as blood continued ripping off them. There was no open wound anywhere on them, but the blood kept flowing from between my fingers. In a panic, I threw them back into the water, trying to get it off. It was a wasted effort; no matter how much I washed off, there was still more. The red spread through the lake, until the clear water had turned crimson.
At last, with the lake completely changed, the blood stopped. I wanted to recoil from the pool of blood that had replaced the oasis, but felt unable to pull my eyes away. The blood beneath my face began to whirl, and the color pulled away, creating an empty circle. The water in the circle wasn’t clear like before, but perfectly reflective, like a mirror. It was weird, seeing my face like that. Haven’t had the chance to look at it in a while. Almost didn’t recognize myself. Looked halfway like a corpse. Or maybe a skeleton held together by skin, blood, and dirt.
The water shifted again, and a new face was looking at me. For a split second, I thought it was Grendel. But no, this was a woman. I stared at it, trying to understand why it seemed so familiar. The realization struck as something of a surprise: it was me. Or, me if I was cleaned up and not starving to death. All my scars were gone on her, and she still had my suit and trench coat, but they were both completely black, with the only splash of color coming from a green tie. Her smile was filled with shark like teeth, and her two burning red eyes seemed to pierce through me. I moved my hand to where my right eye would be, and the reflection followed, but I still only felt my eye patch, and the empty socket beneath.
The reflection began to move on its own, lunging toward me. Before I could respond, its arms broke from beneath the water and grabbed around my waist, quickly pulling me under. I panicked, thinking I was going to drown, but when I fell through the lake, I wasn’t underwater. I was in a black void, without any sign of anything else around me.
Looked around for something in the emptiness, and finally a light appeared by me. Images flashed in it, showing me my life in reverse. All the things I’ve done. The mistakes I’ve made. The people I’ve killed. Every horrible decision. But when it got to the point where I became I-330, the images began to diverge from what I remember. The perspective was wrong; it wasn’t of me falling into the Quiet, but of me already inside, watching Lisa falling. Then the images went further back, into events I didn’t remember at all. I stood amongst a field of stars, and the Slender Man stood opposed to me. With a mere though, I pulled a star to me. A massive ball of fire, and I balanced it easily in the palm of my hand. With a wave, I threw the star at the Slender Man.
The images flashed further back, and I saw my worshippers flocking to the massive temples they had erected in my honor. Their numbers were uncountable, across millions of planets through the abyss of times. Humanity was barely a speck amongst them; a single species on a single planet that existed for only a heartbeat. It amused me to see all the tribute gathered for me. They believed they could avoid my wrath with such gifts. But it was my boredom, not my anger, that they should have feared. They were like flies to me, and they existed so I could pull their wings off. I raised a species of dumb animals to intelligence, then stole their sentience away at the height of their empire. Another race I granted immensely powerful weapons, then laughed as they destroyed themselves. All of reality was my toy. All existed for my amusement.
Further back. There were no starts of planets here. Nothing but the unmolded chaos of Azathoth’s dreams. I could feel the presence of Yog-Sothoth and Sub-Nigurtath, but I didn’t care about them. They were just mindless monsters. No entertainment to be gained from them. And then, the images stopped. I was back in the blackness beneath the lake. But now, someone else was there with me. A tall, proud looking man with dark skin, black eyes, and a golden crown. Recognized him as the Pharaoh I’d seen in R’lyeh.
His voice was softer this time, but it still had that sense of earth shaking authority behind every word. “I suppose it would be too much to expect you would experience a revelation from what you saw.”
“…Alright what the fuck is going on here. Didn’t I kill you or something already?”
“From a certain perspective, yes. Although a better phrase would be that you inherited me.”
Tried to remember back to what had happened. Hadn’t been in my best state of mind when I fought Grendel on R’lyeh. What with the sword through my stomach. “You’re… Nyarlathotep?”
“No.” I blinked, and his appearance changed into the same as the reflection I’d seen in the lake. It spoke again, now with my voice. “You are Nyarlathotep. You really need to stop treating me as a separate entity from yourself.”
“What? I’m not… I know I’m, well, kinda like the spawn of Nyarlathotep or something like that. I’ve had enough Fears telling it to me for it to be drilled into my head.”
“Really? Because you were very quick to accuse me of being Nyarlathotep.”
“Well, you’re, like, I don’t know, the mental incarnation of him or something? The source of those whispers I’ve been hearing or something?”
“No.” I blinked again, and she was gone. But I could still hear her voice. “There is no ‘incarnation’ of Nyarlathotep in your head. Nyarlathotep does not have some kind of separate presence in your mind. You never heard any whispers. There has only ever been one voice in your head. Yours.”
Looked around, trying to find some source of that voice. I wanted it to be coming from outside. Wanted it to be from anywhere but my own head. It wasn’t.
“You’ve gone to such amazing lengths to deny your identity, and treat everything relating to Nyarlathotep as though it was an outside force. Calling your own thoughts ‘voices’. Claiming you don’t know how you kept getting greater control over your abilities. Treating recalling memories as information being put in your head. You are so determined to portray yourself as a human who just happens to have weird things happen to her, in spite of the fact that you aren’t human at all. You never have been.”
“No, I’m… I….” Kept thinking back to the images I’d seen, of the god who toyed with the universe. Who would lead billions to their death just for a quick laugh. “I’m not that. I’m nothing like that.”
“Maybe not. But you were. And you will be again, if you want the power to defeat the Slender Man.”
“No! Stop… why are you trying so hard to convince me?”
“I’m not.” Blinked again, and a mirror was in front of me. This time, the reflection wasn’t changed; it looked exactly like me. “I am you. You’re already partially convinced. You just need to stop this pointless internal conflict, and you can finally start getting some real progress done.”
This conversation was rapidly approaching my tolerance level for smug people telling me what to do. So I smashed the mirror. The moment it shattered, the void was gone, and I was underwater. Took a few moments to get myself oriented, until I saw a light above me. Swam towards it, until I came out in the middle of the oasis.
There’d been some changes since I fell into the lake. My suit and coat are back, but they’re black, like the reflection’s had been. Don’t feel hungry or thirsty anymore, and I look much healthier. Still have all those scars.
And much to my surprise, in the time I was gone, the Slender Man’s tree had grown on the horizon. Knew I would need to run again. But not the panicked flight I’d done previously. New knowledge, or memories, or whatever they were, were bubbling to the surface of my mind. I couldn’t fight against the Slender Man. But maybe I could slow it down.
The shadows of my left arm started to shift until chaotic shapes, until it only resembled an arm in that it was a limb attached to my body. They tore through the air in front of me, and the space shattered like glass, leaving a tear of nothingness. Cracks spread from that nothingness, causing more of the space to vanish, rapidly consuming the entire desert. As this universe fell apart, I could feel others like it close by. I grabbed onto one, and pulled myself into it.
Another wasteland. But this time, a wasteland of snow.
Let’s see what I can find here.
Friday, August 2, 2013
The Garden of Desolation
So. A desert. A really really big desert. After the freakiness of the last place, this is a little boring. You’ve seen one sand dune, you’ve seen them all.
The lack of any landmarks makes it difficult to be certain, but this place feels familiar. It reminds me of the desert I saw in my dream when I spoke with the Mother of Snakes. But now that the Mother’s dead, it would be hard to confirm if they’re the same place.
Not really sure what to do here. I suppose I could start walking, but I wouldn’t know where I’m walking to. Beats standing here and doing nothing, though.
***
I think it’s been three hours since I last wrote. Yeah, I’m gonna go with three hours.
Still no sign of anything. Walking in this place is horrible. The heat never stops beating down on me; I’ve discarded my trench coat and suit jacket, but that hasn’t helped even slightly. There’s no shade, and judging by the lack of a sun, I doubt there’ll be any night. Nothing but a lot of sand and that stupid heat.
***
I’m thirsty. I’m genuinely thirsty. I have felt this since… well, since I was… human. I’d almost forgotten what the sensation was like. But something but something about this place makes my throat feel parched, and has me craving for a drink. No chance of finding a water fountain here, though.
***
Wasn’t that long ago I thought that I wanted to get the chance to pause and reflect on what I’m doing. Now I’ve got the chance, and I wish I had something else to do instead.
What the hell was I thinking? How did we think I could beat the Slender Man? Everything I’ve done, I’ve fucked up. The only things I ever seem to succeed at is controlling the damage of my mistakes, and even that I screw up.
Maybe it’s for the best that I’m lost here. I can’t ruin anything here.
***
Now I’m hungry. That’s a feeling I definitely didn’t miss. Why the hell is this happening? What kind of place is this?
***
I’m going to fucking murder whichever Fear this desert belongs to. If it’s the Mother of Snakes I will fucking find a way to bring her back from the dead so I can stab her in the god damn face over and over until her head is nothing but a bloody mess!
Who do these Fears think I am? They think they can toy with me? I. Will. Kill them. Every last one.
***
Thought I saw Lisa in the distance. Considering I’m not an idiot, I realized it was just a mirage caused by the heat and this feeling of dehydration, and that I shouldn’t waste my time with it.
Of course, I had to be safe, so I checked anyway.
I was right. It was a mirage.
***
I fucking hate sand.
***
Yeah 330, let’s just go on a magical journey to rip the fabric of the multiverse apart! I can’t see how that could possibly backfire and end up in us being trapped forever inside a magical desert world!
I was better off back when I just focused on fighting Grendel.
Or maybe not, because his whole plan relied on me ripping apart the multiverse. So really the best course of action I could have taken would have been to stay in bed. Forever.
***
Wasn’t the Slender Man hunting me or something? I wish he’d show up. Then he could just kill me.
Or maybe I’d kill him. I wonder if he bleeds?
God I’m thirsty.
***
Okay. We can get through this, 330. We just need to… need to figure out how to extract moisture from the air. Yeah. Genius idea, 330. That’s totally something that is doable. Can’t be too hard.
Fucking hell I don’t even know what I’m writing anymore.
***
Looks like a lake up ahead. Probably another mirage. Going to go check it out, because why the hell not.
The lack of any landmarks makes it difficult to be certain, but this place feels familiar. It reminds me of the desert I saw in my dream when I spoke with the Mother of Snakes. But now that the Mother’s dead, it would be hard to confirm if they’re the same place.
Not really sure what to do here. I suppose I could start walking, but I wouldn’t know where I’m walking to. Beats standing here and doing nothing, though.
***
I think it’s been three hours since I last wrote. Yeah, I’m gonna go with three hours.
Still no sign of anything. Walking in this place is horrible. The heat never stops beating down on me; I’ve discarded my trench coat and suit jacket, but that hasn’t helped even slightly. There’s no shade, and judging by the lack of a sun, I doubt there’ll be any night. Nothing but a lot of sand and that stupid heat.
***
I’m thirsty. I’m genuinely thirsty. I have felt this since… well, since I was… human. I’d almost forgotten what the sensation was like. But something but something about this place makes my throat feel parched, and has me craving for a drink. No chance of finding a water fountain here, though.
***
Wasn’t that long ago I thought that I wanted to get the chance to pause and reflect on what I’m doing. Now I’ve got the chance, and I wish I had something else to do instead.
What the hell was I thinking? How did we think I could beat the Slender Man? Everything I’ve done, I’ve fucked up. The only things I ever seem to succeed at is controlling the damage of my mistakes, and even that I screw up.
Maybe it’s for the best that I’m lost here. I can’t ruin anything here.
***
Now I’m hungry. That’s a feeling I definitely didn’t miss. Why the hell is this happening? What kind of place is this?
***
I’m going to fucking murder whichever Fear this desert belongs to. If it’s the Mother of Snakes I will fucking find a way to bring her back from the dead so I can stab her in the god damn face over and over until her head is nothing but a bloody mess!
Who do these Fears think I am? They think they can toy with me? I. Will. Kill them. Every last one.
***
Thought I saw Lisa in the distance. Considering I’m not an idiot, I realized it was just a mirage caused by the heat and this feeling of dehydration, and that I shouldn’t waste my time with it.
Of course, I had to be safe, so I checked anyway.
I was right. It was a mirage.
***
I fucking hate sand.
***
Yeah 330, let’s just go on a magical journey to rip the fabric of the multiverse apart! I can’t see how that could possibly backfire and end up in us being trapped forever inside a magical desert world!
I was better off back when I just focused on fighting Grendel.
Or maybe not, because his whole plan relied on me ripping apart the multiverse. So really the best course of action I could have taken would have been to stay in bed. Forever.
***
Wasn’t the Slender Man hunting me or something? I wish he’d show up. Then he could just kill me.
Or maybe I’d kill him. I wonder if he bleeds?
God I’m thirsty.
***
Okay. We can get through this, 330. We just need to… need to figure out how to extract moisture from the air. Yeah. Genius idea, 330. That’s totally something that is doable. Can’t be too hard.
Fucking hell I don’t even know what I’m writing anymore.
***
Looks like a lake up ahead. Probably another mirage. Going to go check it out, because why the hell not.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
The Screaming Tower
The Wooden Girl is a bitch.
And that’s all I have to say on the matter.
***
It was only moments after writing how suspicious the open gate was that I-330 decided to enter the castle. Without hesitation, she strode forward. When her foot crossed the threshold, instead of entering the gardens which she had seen from outside the walls, she was indoors. It was a circular tower, with red and black checkered floors and a gilded spiral staircase stretching up higher than I-330 could see. When she looked back, there was no sign of any doorway or gate that she had come through. The walls of the tower were perfectly smooth stone, without any openings. Yet even without any windows or sources of light, the interior was completely illuminated.
Cautiously, I-330 went to the stairs and began to walk up them. After some time, she started to wish that she had counted steps, because there was no way to tell how far she had traveled. When she looked down, she couldn’t see the floor anymore, but when looking up there still didn’t seem to be any end.
As she came up one step, a pathway made of gilded metal extended from the stairs, reaching towards an ivory door. Once again, the invitation seemed suspicious, but I-330’s curiosity overrode any doubts. She went through the door, and found herself in the back of a grand theater. The rows were filled with audience members, all focused on the stage with grins fixed on their faces. The play being performed was a domestic comedy, featuring slapstick quarrels between the bumbling husband and his wife. I-330 watched with more than a little confusion at the performance. The acting was stiff, more like a puppet show than a theater. But in spite of the show’s poor quality, the audience laughed mechanically at each joke.
At one point in the play, the wife responded to her husband’s blunder by hitting him over the head with a rolling pin, causing the pin to snap in two. The audience burst into laughter, and continued laughing as she kept hitting him. Even as his skull started to cave in, and blood splattered across the stage, the laughter didn’t stop.
I-330 ran out of the theater, back onto the staircase. She had come to the conclusion that this was “a seriously fucked up place,” and leaving should be her first priority.
But when she tried running down the stairs, instead of descending through the tower, she continued to go higher. When she tried running the opposite direction it had the same result. No matter where she went on the stairs, she kept getting closer to the top. Until, without any indication that it was coming, the stairs stopped. At the end was another door, made of black wood. After her experience with the last door, I-330 quickly came to the decision to not go through this one. She turned to leave, only to find that the stairs had disappeared, leaving instead a massive drop that stretched all the way down to the bottom of the tower. The only path open was through that door.
Before going through, I-330 turned her shadow arm into a blade. At the very least, she could be prepared to fight. With painfully slow caution, she cracked the door open, and peeked inside. The room beyond had the same red and black checker tile as the bottom of the tower. The walls were covered in shelves of porcelain dolls, and in the center was a table, set for tea. Seeing no one inside, I-330 entered the room, and walked to the table. It had a distinctly Victorian appearance, with a lace trimmed tablecloth and elegantly crafted china.
I-330 reached for a cup, and the moment her hand touched it, deafening laughter came from the dolls on the shelves. I-330 turned to run for the door, but standing between her and the exit was the Wooden Girl. Before I-330 could fight, strings fell from above, wrapping around her limbs.
The dolls stopped laughing, and the Wooden Girl raised its arms up. “Yes! I did it!” It started skipping around I-330, giggling as it spoke. “All this time I’ve been trying so hard to get you, when I just needed to open the front door and let you walk in!” It skipped up to I-330 and grabbed her jaw. “Now, you belong to me.” The Wooden Girl forced I-330’s mouth open, then stuck a hand inside. I-330 felt strings flowing down her throat, into the rest of her body.
“This is… the heart. Let’s try stopping that.” The Wooden Girl said, and I-330 felt like her chest was about to burst. “Aaaaand start it again.” The pain vanished. “And here’s the lungs….” I-330 started choking, unable to draw in breath. “Alright, enough of that.” The Wooden Girl pulled its hand out, and I-330 could breathe again. “Oh, don’t glare at me like that.” It said. “You’re my pet now. Put on a smile.” Against her will, I-330 felt her lips turning up into a grin. “Muuuuch better.”
The Girl clapped its hands and giggled again. “I’m going to have so much fun with you! Ever since we met, I’ve been saving a special place in my plays for you! And I’ve set up a room just for you to stay in and have all kinds of games for us to play and it will be so fun! Won’t that be fun? Say ‘Yes, Mistress.’”
I-330 struggled against the command, but was unable to control her mouth. “Yes… Mistress.”
The Wooden Girl squealed with excitement and jumped up and down. “Say it again! Say it again!”
“Yes, Mistress.”
With another squeal, the Girl started to run circles around the room. “I can’t wait I’m going to tear your skin off then sow it back on and we’ll dance together and I’ll break all of your fingers and I’ll rip out your throat and then kiss it to make it better and we’ll watch the sunset and I’ll make you gouge out people’s eyeballs and eat them whole and-” The Girl stopped running, and stood straight up. “It’s tea time!”
With a twirl, the Girl sat itself down at the table. “Oh Pet, would you be a dear and pour me a cup?”
I-330 walked to the table and picked up the teapot. She began to pour it, but her grasp started to loosen on its own, until she dropped the pot on the floor, causing it to shatter. The Wooden Girl shook its head. “Oh dear. You’ll need to clean that up.”
“Yes, Mistress.” I-330 went on her hands and knees, and started licking up the tea, while the Wooden Girl laughed.
“You missed a bit.” The Wooden Girl put its foot in front of I-330. “Such a bad pet, spilling tea on its master’s foot. Clean it up as well.”
I-330 struggled for a moment, but then leaned forward and licked the wooden foot. Splinters stabbed through her tongue, and when she stopped her mouth was filled with blood.
“That will do, Pet. Now go and get me another teapot.” A cart with a new tea set had appeared in the room. I-330 began to walk toward it, but suddenly came to a stop. Her shadow arm had grabbed the edge of the table, and was refusing to let go. I-330 tugged on the arm, but it kept its hold. The Wooden Girl flicked a finger, and a string sliced the arm off.
“Get the teapot. Now.”
Unhindered by the arm, I-330 walked to the tray, and picked up the teapot with her remaining hand. But as she lifted it up, her shadow arm regrew, and smashed the pot. Before the Wooden Girl could react, the arm extended in a spike that went through the Girl’s forehead. The Girl fell, and the strings that had been controlling I-330 vanished. Her arm’s sudden attack had surprised I-330 as much as the Girl, but once she took in what had happened, she started running for the exit.
The Wooden Girl rose up, it’s face now painted in an image of rage. “No no NO!” The voice screamed through I-330’s head. “You’re ruining everything!” The dolls rose off the shelves, and flew towards I-330, who smashed them with her shadow arm.
“Stop breaking my things!” The Girl screamed as the roof was torn off, and hundreds of strings came from above. I-330 threw open the door to leave, but there was nothing on the other side but the screaming void.
“You’re going to stay….” The Girl said, slowly advancing forward as the strings followed behind it. “And we’re going to play forever.”
It didn’t take long for I-330 to decide that the screaming void was the preferable alternative there. She jumped, and fell into the darkness. For hours she fell, until space began to distort again. The next I-330 knew, she was lying in sand. And all around her was a massive, unending desert.
And that’s all I have to say on the matter.
***
It was only moments after writing how suspicious the open gate was that I-330 decided to enter the castle. Without hesitation, she strode forward. When her foot crossed the threshold, instead of entering the gardens which she had seen from outside the walls, she was indoors. It was a circular tower, with red and black checkered floors and a gilded spiral staircase stretching up higher than I-330 could see. When she looked back, there was no sign of any doorway or gate that she had come through. The walls of the tower were perfectly smooth stone, without any openings. Yet even without any windows or sources of light, the interior was completely illuminated.
Cautiously, I-330 went to the stairs and began to walk up them. After some time, she started to wish that she had counted steps, because there was no way to tell how far she had traveled. When she looked down, she couldn’t see the floor anymore, but when looking up there still didn’t seem to be any end.
As she came up one step, a pathway made of gilded metal extended from the stairs, reaching towards an ivory door. Once again, the invitation seemed suspicious, but I-330’s curiosity overrode any doubts. She went through the door, and found herself in the back of a grand theater. The rows were filled with audience members, all focused on the stage with grins fixed on their faces. The play being performed was a domestic comedy, featuring slapstick quarrels between the bumbling husband and his wife. I-330 watched with more than a little confusion at the performance. The acting was stiff, more like a puppet show than a theater. But in spite of the show’s poor quality, the audience laughed mechanically at each joke.
At one point in the play, the wife responded to her husband’s blunder by hitting him over the head with a rolling pin, causing the pin to snap in two. The audience burst into laughter, and continued laughing as she kept hitting him. Even as his skull started to cave in, and blood splattered across the stage, the laughter didn’t stop.
I-330 ran out of the theater, back onto the staircase. She had come to the conclusion that this was “a seriously fucked up place,” and leaving should be her first priority.
But when she tried running down the stairs, instead of descending through the tower, she continued to go higher. When she tried running the opposite direction it had the same result. No matter where she went on the stairs, she kept getting closer to the top. Until, without any indication that it was coming, the stairs stopped. At the end was another door, made of black wood. After her experience with the last door, I-330 quickly came to the decision to not go through this one. She turned to leave, only to find that the stairs had disappeared, leaving instead a massive drop that stretched all the way down to the bottom of the tower. The only path open was through that door.
Before going through, I-330 turned her shadow arm into a blade. At the very least, she could be prepared to fight. With painfully slow caution, she cracked the door open, and peeked inside. The room beyond had the same red and black checker tile as the bottom of the tower. The walls were covered in shelves of porcelain dolls, and in the center was a table, set for tea. Seeing no one inside, I-330 entered the room, and walked to the table. It had a distinctly Victorian appearance, with a lace trimmed tablecloth and elegantly crafted china.
I-330 reached for a cup, and the moment her hand touched it, deafening laughter came from the dolls on the shelves. I-330 turned to run for the door, but standing between her and the exit was the Wooden Girl. Before I-330 could fight, strings fell from above, wrapping around her limbs.
The dolls stopped laughing, and the Wooden Girl raised its arms up. “Yes! I did it!” It started skipping around I-330, giggling as it spoke. “All this time I’ve been trying so hard to get you, when I just needed to open the front door and let you walk in!” It skipped up to I-330 and grabbed her jaw. “Now, you belong to me.” The Wooden Girl forced I-330’s mouth open, then stuck a hand inside. I-330 felt strings flowing down her throat, into the rest of her body.
“This is… the heart. Let’s try stopping that.” The Wooden Girl said, and I-330 felt like her chest was about to burst. “Aaaaand start it again.” The pain vanished. “And here’s the lungs….” I-330 started choking, unable to draw in breath. “Alright, enough of that.” The Wooden Girl pulled its hand out, and I-330 could breathe again. “Oh, don’t glare at me like that.” It said. “You’re my pet now. Put on a smile.” Against her will, I-330 felt her lips turning up into a grin. “Muuuuch better.”
The Girl clapped its hands and giggled again. “I’m going to have so much fun with you! Ever since we met, I’ve been saving a special place in my plays for you! And I’ve set up a room just for you to stay in and have all kinds of games for us to play and it will be so fun! Won’t that be fun? Say ‘Yes, Mistress.’”
I-330 struggled against the command, but was unable to control her mouth. “Yes… Mistress.”
The Wooden Girl squealed with excitement and jumped up and down. “Say it again! Say it again!”
“Yes, Mistress.”
With another squeal, the Girl started to run circles around the room. “I can’t wait I’m going to tear your skin off then sow it back on and we’ll dance together and I’ll break all of your fingers and I’ll rip out your throat and then kiss it to make it better and we’ll watch the sunset and I’ll make you gouge out people’s eyeballs and eat them whole and-” The Girl stopped running, and stood straight up. “It’s tea time!”
With a twirl, the Girl sat itself down at the table. “Oh Pet, would you be a dear and pour me a cup?”
I-330 walked to the table and picked up the teapot. She began to pour it, but her grasp started to loosen on its own, until she dropped the pot on the floor, causing it to shatter. The Wooden Girl shook its head. “Oh dear. You’ll need to clean that up.”
“Yes, Mistress.” I-330 went on her hands and knees, and started licking up the tea, while the Wooden Girl laughed.
“You missed a bit.” The Wooden Girl put its foot in front of I-330. “Such a bad pet, spilling tea on its master’s foot. Clean it up as well.”
I-330 struggled for a moment, but then leaned forward and licked the wooden foot. Splinters stabbed through her tongue, and when she stopped her mouth was filled with blood.
“That will do, Pet. Now go and get me another teapot.” A cart with a new tea set had appeared in the room. I-330 began to walk toward it, but suddenly came to a stop. Her shadow arm had grabbed the edge of the table, and was refusing to let go. I-330 tugged on the arm, but it kept its hold. The Wooden Girl flicked a finger, and a string sliced the arm off.
“Get the teapot. Now.”
Unhindered by the arm, I-330 walked to the tray, and picked up the teapot with her remaining hand. But as she lifted it up, her shadow arm regrew, and smashed the pot. Before the Wooden Girl could react, the arm extended in a spike that went through the Girl’s forehead. The Girl fell, and the strings that had been controlling I-330 vanished. Her arm’s sudden attack had surprised I-330 as much as the Girl, but once she took in what had happened, she started running for the exit.
The Wooden Girl rose up, it’s face now painted in an image of rage. “No no NO!” The voice screamed through I-330’s head. “You’re ruining everything!” The dolls rose off the shelves, and flew towards I-330, who smashed them with her shadow arm.
“Stop breaking my things!” The Girl screamed as the roof was torn off, and hundreds of strings came from above. I-330 threw open the door to leave, but there was nothing on the other side but the screaming void.
“You’re going to stay….” The Girl said, slowly advancing forward as the strings followed behind it. “And we’re going to play forever.”
It didn’t take long for I-330 to decide that the screaming void was the preferable alternative there. She jumped, and fell into the darkness. For hours she fell, until space began to distort again. The next I-330 knew, she was lying in sand. And all around her was a massive, unending desert.
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