The mountain sized monster, used to its twisted weight its entire inception, barring its infancy in 1919 and a little following, could feel the next step being taken. The same weight it was so used to, became null in mere moments.
It’d leave the ground by no intentions of its own, and falling to the sky, it was headed for its target, but perhaps in all that twisting and turning, it had become the hunted. The ‘sky’ up until then, only his eyes were really visible, but as the master of madness kept falling, he’d see hands approach form the two ends of infinity, and soon they cradled the place.
He held it like a rose, and moments later, he began to condescendingly deadhead the flower, a petal at a time instead of a clean cut. As such, the place would break in parts, flowing, flexible even, but truly, it was a cataclysm.
The rifts ran through the place like a disease, destroying everything in their paths to achieve their goals, and as for anything that was unlucky enough to be caught in their paths, I’ll tell you. If a horse were to be tied to every limb, and even the head, and then all at once, they all ran in separate directions.
Thus, knowing this, and knowing the source of the rifts that descend like falling blades of malice, what would happen to one closest to the source.
The mountain, as big a target as it was, was bound to get hit, and it did, get hit. One of its hands would be tossed to the northern winds, a liquid trail of crimson, its bottom half would separate, entrails leaking, and then that would be made into hundreds of pieces.
Its head would snap from its shoulders and be dashed down south, mind a bloody, jumbled blur. It was such, that within seconds, the oppositions strongest, was nothing more than disremembered parts, not dead, but perhaps, death was a luxury.
It wasn’t really human, and so, death wasn’t ‘perhaps’ a luxury. It was. In consequence of its own disturbing actions, the thing, unlike an idea, was forced to feel every cut, nick, bruise, gash and slice, just like it wanted, just like a human would. And so, with it being no more than pieces, it felt every inch of its body as if under a furnace’s bellowing flames.
The sky, because that’s what he was then, he’d—just as promised—summon the corpses of those closest to him from the blood of the mad god, with nothing more than a thought. He had fulfilled his promise, and it was time for him to take his leave.
He, the sky, would fade along with the bodies, and so, it was done. He knew most after that, she had told him what was most probable, but knowing did not prepare him for the pain, but before that, he had a lot to do. In that long list of things, the man would do, disrupting all technology on the island was a high priority, though unintentional.
The sky of the natural world would glow, and instantaneously, it’d explode like an aurora, and there he was, eyes still bleeding, holding two lifeless bodies. He was a spectacle to behold, and so all would attempt to catch a glimpse, but they wouldn’t be allowed. He was a concentration of the energy they had collected from a dying vessel to power the place, and like the source he was, it all rushed back towards him.
The ramifications of such an event, sparks flew from all directions as buildings crashed, machines spat flames and something pitch black flickered into existence, casting shadows over the world below. It wouldn’t last long though as within a blink the man had retreated to the bowels of the island, insulated against such catastrophes. The bodies were gone, but he knew where they were, as for the immediate problem he had, she told him the solution.
He stood before that glass prison once more, but the girl he saw, she was truly a child. She’d stumble to her feet, body still tainted by Fate. She had never used the entity’s power for herself either, and so she was stuck behind the glass, with teary eyes. If he knew what he knew, and he was right, she was just as tortured as he was. He’d replicate the common enemy, walking through the glass, and standing before the child, she stumbled closer. He’d lower himself, and she’d take hold of him, a hug.
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“Tell… me… tell me that I won’t have to watch you die again… please…! Tell me that this is the last one… the last time… tell me!” She’d tighten her hold.
He had gained so much power, and yet, all he could do was hug her back. He was right, Fate, the author of her name sake, she was a completely different being who experienced time differently, and to some extent, didn’t experience it all. Thus, the child that was trapped in a body with the thing was forced to witness infinite realities tailored to her liking, and in everyone, August died, and she was forced to watch. It would have been bad, and bad enough, but to her, it was real, and after it all, every time, every single time, he’d treat her like the human being, the child, he knew she was. In essence, the child was stuck in a loop.
“She was conscious… you shared a body with her… and she was conscious… you’re a monster…” His voice would echo in his head, to no response, but she heard.
“I’ll give her a half of me… and you can take your ‘human’ body from the abyss and use it… putting this one in its place until the time comes… where those you massacred seek their revenge… I will still be with you though so—” She’d be interrupted.
“She was conscious…?!” He demanded it.
“And what if she was…? You know the other option… death… so don’t berate me as if I had any good options!” The thing raised its voice so loud, August lost hearing for a moment. “You think—…” Her voice snapped. “You think I wanted to torture a child…? I had no other option…! I did… what I had to… and I will not be judged for it…”
“You could have stopped them… stopped this… all of it!” He saw all her secrets, but his eyes were blinded to the bigger picture.
“You know that the future is uncertain… and that was sure to work… as for stopping ‘them’… and then what…? I stop another of your wars…? And then what…? I stop a brawl in an ally…? And then what…? I stop anyone from drinking… smoking… eating too much… all of it… because that’s good right…? And then what choice will any of you have!?” It exceeded its prior high, and the voice made August dizzy. “If I intervene now… you… you will be the first to ask me to do more… and then what of free will!? If I intervene now… free will ceases to exist! The world gets turned! And twisted! To your image! And for what!? No… I will not intervene… so yes… I will ‘use’ you… because it’s a choice you make…” She made a few good points.
“But you gave them everything they wanted…? Was that not intervening…?” August also made a good point.
“Where did that get us…? Here… and do I want to be here… do you want to be here…?” She awaited a response, one that never came. “That’s what I thought…” It wasn’t a good point it seemed.
August would remove the frightened child, and resting his forehead against hers, her hair caught flames and her eyes glossed over, silver. He had done it, given away half.
“I’ll numb her pain of the past… how about that…?” The thing sought penance.
“It’s something… but not nearly enough…” That was in his mind, but he’d finally use his voice.
He’d stand, and soon he’d leave the ground, defying gravity.
“I’ll be back…” His words were empty, on the outside, and of course they were.
He’d disappear in a red flash, and before it subsided, he was back, accompanied by foreign fluids, wearing that same full body suit. He fell to the ground, contorting, coughing up water and black sludge. His heart was beating, and he was breathing again, truly, and every moment didn’t feel like he was filled with dead and rotting weight.
His eyes were pure black for a few moments as he caught his bearings, flattering about in the mind’s filth, but eventually it would all go away. It wasn’t without cause though, as it was all initiated by a tap on his forehead. Thus, as his eyes opened, there she was, the small girl, smiling, even with her diluted mind.
“I know what you must do… so, I will be here… I will always be here… waiting… so come visit me… like you always do… okay…?” She hugged him again, squeezed him tight that time, perhaps there was intention of murder, she held him so tight.
As he attempted to reciprocate the gesture, in a blink of an eye, he was somewhere completely foreign. He was in the room where he had sent their bodies, he had done a great job, and so, he couldn’t help but to sit and look up at them. They stood in embrace, made to be entombed in statues of aged copper, their graves.