Abraham sat next to the busy stairs, skulking in the shade of an overhanging building. The world outside of his mind had ceased to exist - attacks that had become more frequent with every passing day. Whoever had told him that pain heals all wounds had been a filthy liar, as it seemed that with every passing second, that gap in his mind’s flesh burst open another inch to spew pain and blood onto his etched-in-flesh memories.
He held his head in his hands, pulling out strands of his black hair in a desperate attempt to focus on anything other than the sight of Michael - his brother and one of his closest friends being swallowed up by the beast of writhing tentacle and pale skin. In his mind, Bear and Michael had become one - fed their own bodies by the spawn of hell. But those eyes; Michael’s and Bear’s eyes signaling him with desperation to leave… he could not shake those pale, wide bulbs of terror.
Logan had said there was no chance Bear still lived and that Michael had been torn to shreds as soon as he had broken through the skin. But even as he spent himself on throwing rocks around a crater, he could find no trace of either of them - nowhere in the hive had he found anything but mountains of rotting flesh… all that was left of his precious friends - his family - was a reeking, pustulent mess.
He whined and stared his tear-stricken eyes down on the bricks, expecting them to split apart to reveal yet more of those horrific tendrils, but to no avail. Nothing moved. Nothing had changed. All around him, life was moving as if nothing had happened - as if Michael and Bear had never existed nor died.
A static discharge of his protective aura sent a jolt into a black-gloved hand - snapping the air with the sound of a rock falling somewhere in the cave. His eyes jerked up to see the white, monstrous mask stare down at him. A mouth of sharp teeth; bared in an eternal snarl. Abraham knew that he was no less monstrous beneath the porcelain.
Logan waved his arm as he sat down next to the priest in his disheveled, tattered, white robes and stared down at the mouth of the cave in silence.
“T-T-They’re…” A strong hand landed atop his scalp and turned him to face the mask. Logan moved smoothly back and forth as if studying the face.
“Marcel told you I’m not bringing him, right?” Abraham’s neck bobbed up and down, his pale face whiter than ever - his eyes wider than his own, black deformity.
“Y-Yeah… M-maybe… F-for the best…” Logan nodded and let the boy turn back towards the cave to suffer the horrors again. His heart raced, his palms were sweaty and his rapid breathing was dizzying him with hyperventilation.
“There’s many names for your affliction. It’s common after trauma - it’ll get worse before it gets better. Months, maybe years of nightmares lie ahead for you. That won’t change.” Abraham didn’t move for the horrific sentence, he wasn’t even surprised to hear it.
“Chances are you won’t make it past three months. They got you bad. You’ll be sprawled out on the cobblestone before the end of summer - not a bad way to go, really. It’s quick.” Logan spoke coldly and calmly.
“Y-you’re not wrong… I think…” Abraham stuttered.
“But I could be. I could be very wrong. I’ll save you the specifics, but I suffered like you did. I still do. I lost my teeth and… well, you’ve seen the result.” Abraham was freezing, clattering his teeth, yet unable to feel anything past his mind’s anguish. Without facing the Ghast, he spoke: “W-what did you d-do to move on? H-how… how can you live with this?” His stomach roiled as he heard Logan laugh bitterly.
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“I never did. But I used that pain, that fury and terror. You’re so, very afraid of those monsters, aren’t you?” Abraham considered protesting - to claim that he had the heart of a hero and that it wasn’t fear, but dread and the loss of his friends that made him quiver so. But Logan was right. He was terrified of the Spawn.
“T-they… It… It did everything right. It’s like it was built to kill us. How the fuck are we supposed to fight something like that?”
Logan crossed his legs and leaned back to stare up at the blood-red skies. “They are. Between us, I almost shit myself twice during the fights. The monsters use our fear against us to demoralize and destroy. And they’re quite successful, too.” Abraham nearly rounded on the unnerving gentleman as he chuckled once more. Instead, his terror silenced him to barely more than a whisper: “T-then how… and why…”
“Because it’s like I said. Monsters use fear and I’ve got plenty of it. Cradle’s got plenty of it. A human can’t fight a monster, but a monster can. Feel that fear and use it for strength - kill, cut, burn and hack until you can’t move anymore; destroy the Monstrum until you’re the only monster left standing in the field. That’s when I swear I can feel it - beyond the walls and in the depths of every Hive in Cradle. Their fear.”
Abraham’s black eyes were so empty - so wide when he looked over at the Ghast. Logan rose up and looked at the terrorized priest with a nod. “We’ll leave at sunrise. You won’t be sleeping, so you may as well pack. For the sake of order, this is an offer - not an order. Come and fight or stay and jump, it is on you.” The Ghast pocketed his hands and strode eastwards - in the direction of Ethel’s… and he supposed his lodgings.
Luna had changed - she had become more shapely, more womanly than last he had seen her naked on her back. But she was just as beautiful - just as irresistible as the day he had first bedded her. From her long legs, her hips widened into beautiful pelvic crests, a flat, muscled abdomen and breasts so rounded and bouncy they were difficult to ever look away from. More importantly, her red eyes conveyed such satisfaction as they had finished copulating on the tired, worn bed. Though it had only been a handful of minutes, he could feel his desire for more.
It felt unusual to have his face touched by anything but porcelain, blades or wet, hungry flesh that her hand was like a palm in itself. He had even learned to accept her curious exploration of his teeth - a feature he had been as ashamed of as his black eye.
As they lay there in a bed too small for two people, she stroked the wide, fresh scar on his chest and questioned: “Can you see anything through that? The black one, I mean.” He closed his Logoruum eye and looked at her, attempting to explain: “I see movement better with this one than the other. I can also see heat, which makes fighting reptiles problematic, but that’s more of a problem on the frontier. The Monstrum light up like a torch in the forests.”
She whistled, seemingly impressed with the eye.
“It looks and sounds neat. And when it’s dim like this, I can see my own reflection, too. Maybe I should dig my own eye out.” She’d expected a smile, but instead received a passing, pained frown. Still, after all these nights, she was unused to seeing his expressions - those brief glimpses of the person who had plagued her dreams. His scars were numerous, but none as profound as those he had locked up inside his head.
“Sorry… I’m just not used to thinking of you as something scary.” She confessed. This time, his smile seemed genuine.
“These people are the oddity. The Logoruum aren’t the anomaly, they’re the rule… I shouldn’t be upset that they hate monsters, but wearing that mask lets you see things. Things they wouldn’t show a man. Even if I wish you didn’t have to see it, I know you will.” He muttered and finally rose from the bed, intent to let her sleep. She felt cold without him, but she had long since understood that his nights were his own - a required respite in which Logan could be Logan. Guy could be Guy.
“You never told me why you changed your name, Loggie.” She teased as he got dressed in his black finery and his numerous weaponry. He looked to the stone cold wall and rubbed his chin. “I thought I’d never see you again. I wanted Guy to have died down there - to distance myself from that black abyss. Now that it’s stuck, I’m not sure I can go back to that name.” He snapped the belts across his chest fast.
She snorted a laugh and laid down on her back to kick the sheet backwards to cover her supple body.
“Yeah, right. You just didn’t like the name… Commander Loggie.”