Your story, your STORY? That does sound like a riot. Please, tell me all about your day. Maybe we can paint our nails in rainbow colours as we gossip about your coworkers. Oh em gee, I am so excited.
My enthusiasm spread over the room and doused it in a wave of undiagnosed depression and terminal lucidity.
Any other, more highly intellectual brainfarts of yours? This should be about my fate, the point of my entire existence, not a ring-around-the-unrosy past of yours.
“I thought you to be smarter than that. By extension, my past was your past as well.”
It shook its head at me. The disappointment buried deep in its voice told me more than I wanted to know. It cut deep, really, really deep.
Do you know what else can cut? You!? You should cut to the chase. While you are at it, I mean, just hypothetically, and this really might come as a surprise to you: But, could you stop speaking in riddles?
“Would you ever stop commenting on any triviality of life?”
Never!!!
“That is the answer to your inquiry.”
Jeez, is this the equivalent of the strawberry season for ageless apparitions? Given that heavy word flow of yours, I suggest maxi-pads.
Half the human populace has a uterus literally trying to murder them once a month, and I have heard none of them ever complain as much as you did.
Then there is you, the haemorrhoid-representative, nought but a pain in between my cheeks.
Well… what do you have to say for yourself? What tongue-in-cheek reply will it be this time?
“An unfortunate choice of phrasing, Moirai. Must I really show you the proverbial mirror to halt the commencing verbal fencing?”
Snippish, the almighty hormonal teenager being scoffed at me. Why it still refused to kill me was beyond the mortal comprehension. Maybe it was some kind of litmus test to get me cancelled by the interdimensional social media hate mob.
Maybe I should make an apology video in advance. Crocodile, tears or in my system, would surely do the trick.
As in the drug, that some dude was on, which prompted him to literally eat another guy's face off. You see, the joke here is dying, being portrayed as an amicable solution to avoid the social media flock from salivating all over you.
Cancelled my thought, yet it spoke.
“Art is inspired by nature. You inspired me. Thank you. I must thank you.”
Eyes peered ahead with expectations. The head twisted at an angle, improbable for anatomical support. A tongue snarled within.
“Enjoy this. You will enjoy this. You must do so.”
Maddened gaze, its focal point fixated, stared onwards. The head jigged again, its destination the opposite spectrum─neck cracked, bones rattled. Marks appeared on spotless facial flesh. Bitten into, chunks of pale meat fell to the floor.
An impact wet reverberates through barren, wooden scenery.
“See, help me! See! Help me! Bear witness to you!”
Amassing on the floor, the tissue’s former face. Muscle and sinew laid bare, the parchment of skin deteriorated, a skeletal frame revealed. A cranium metamorphosis, it had become.
I faced it.
The skull cackled. The mandible dislodged partly. The jugular burst, splurged red across.
From the carotid a cut, clean, emerged. A line drawn, round neck, saw light. Connected epidermis grew obsolete. Torn beneath the weight of a brain carried, it wobbled, toppled, lobbed off to the floor.
Remaining flaps fell to their side, like petals of a flower─a corpse flower blossom.
Deflowered, was my mind.
Its former crown bounced on boards of plain origin, tinting the hazelnut brown in a tinge of crimson.
Atop, a ceiling, still as ebon, still was it deceiving. Brown and red bore the floor, brown were the walls to their core, brown is the sparse choice of chattel, a chair, a table; they do embattle…brown is not the corpse, it isn't the one, who does engorge…
The carcass did not do.
The interior shakes, binded is the body to a state of ragged movement. Beneath its back, a writhing mass, leftover bodily tissue stretched, fell and sunk in wanton design.
From the trachea, a faint gurgle rumbled. Inside something travelled up, at rapid speed.
My saliva travelled downward, inward… down the parched throat.
The noise grew more intense with the passing seconds, growing more distorted as the vessel malformed. The shaking exacerbated by circumstances beyond any control.
Unnatural development occurred.
Under violence unimagined a new bud sprung forth. The trachea itself ripped through the gaping maw, where a head had been.Under shrilling shrieks it elongated beyond the humanly possible.
Serpentlike its traversion, wriggling, shaking, stretching further through the room seeming too small.
At its tip, a human face glinted with fervent desire.
I faced it.
“Do you see? You see me. And you see YOU!”
The voice, hoarse and ridden with disease, spoke to me in a tone all too familiar─it was the mine.
Brown, emaciated eyes stared at me, longing filled these. Skin trapped between death and decay, with bags of purest black situated below. Livor mortis caressed the pallid face. The nose lay there broken, crooked. Any breath taken via nasal ducts appeared agonising and lacking in content.
Malnourished contours accentuated the mouth, bones showing beneath.Teeth, frail and feeble and low in number bore through the gum, their existence a finite arrangement. Incapable of even biting the proverbial dust.
Dents ornamented the dead skin, spread at random over the remains of what a face ought to look. A complexion of ashen hue, and orbital bones that showed even less life within were at display.
Black hair, remnants of it, plagued the skull. Patches strewn across its surface, spoke a story of healthier times, in another life.
Realisation struck the tired mind. The bizarre sight ahead, the purpose behind had crystalized.
This face…was the mine.
The reality, reflected in the mirror shown, felt sullen.
Stillness fell over us once more. No further communication was needed. No words were spoken, the weight of what was and is spoke for itself.
Beneath the ethereal wings of silence, the two of us─we knew. It was neither the time for biting sarcasm, ill remarks or the usual antics nor was it fitting to question or doubt.
It was time to listen.
An attempted cough was brought forth to start the conversation. Due to the lack of neck that endeavour turned superfluous. Nods of acceptance were exchanged instead and 2 deep breaths taken.
“This world had been discovered not long ago. The reason for its being proved a mystery even after extensive probing. It is surmised as a space between the seams of reality. Governed by rules beyond the sphere of influence from Gods and magic alike.”
A sombre detached tone echoed in my ears, delivering a lot to ponder over.
“For reasons I am not privy to, access to it was discovered to be feasible. Astral bodies, better understood as ‘souls’, can be projected into it via interference on a spiritual level.”
“ Utilisation of this space for militaristic purposes was funded and realised promptly thereafter. Dubbed as “Project: Zeitgeist” invitations were extended to progeny of notable lineage or talented individuals above the age of 18 and below of 21.”
“Its intended function was the strengthening of faith and the furthering of education towards an idealistic, devout follower. By the order of the Church covenant, their latent abilities were to be strengthened through battle amongst their peers. The talents to be filtered and selected based on potential usage in warfare against classified groups. I have no intel on.”
One can easily deduce that the situation did not develop as intended, otherwise the world of the world, as you described it, was not on and about..
The entity adorned with my face, shook its head.
“Far from it, the project was a raging success. Surpassing even the earliest predictions by several folds. Thanks to the implementation of you, Moirai, if I may add. Allow me to elaborate on your, involuntarily, influence.”
“The beginnings of this project were lacklustre. An endless barren space did not resonate well with an audience as interested in the teachings of old, as you were with that past life of yours.”
It threw me a wry smile. My prior shenanigans certainly did not go over its head or the one on the floor. We went long back, after all.
Prodding its elongated neck to the side, it continued.
“A few more strong words from the sponsors of said even later,” Logos rolled its eyes at said statement.
”... and another plan was devised. This world needed to bring about the promised results. As such it needed to stimulate its participants through any means necessary.”
“Cue the conducting of even more tests of highly confidential and questionable nature. The outcome? Three artificial constructs were granted the gift of sentience. Three ‘brothers’ were brought into this world to ensure its goal.”
“Logos, yours truly here, to govern the world, its powers, and intervene should the principles of causality be toyed with. Pathos, the one who does not know the concept of fun, to adhere to the concept of principality and to sustain the status quo. Ethos, if that cranky old thing still exists, to ensure the steady supply of emotion.”
Once again, my interlocutor took a meaningful pause, waiting for me to give the okay to continue. Those breathers were much appreciated.
.
The manner Logos spoke to me was neither fast nor too slow. It was on point, which allowed my peanut-sized frontal lobe to not catch fire due to the overload of information─despite it yearning for a lobotomy.
Given all these bombshells of truth that caused my understanding of this world to be shattered, I needed all the time I could get to digest the details handed to me..
And yet, we still had not addressed how all of that related back to me.
Under great protest of my body, I returned the nod given to me and awaited another ground-shaking revelation.
The higher being took notice of this, an affirmative action was taken in response…
… however, before it came to speak, a frown appeared. For a split second, it seemed perturbed; the facade of nonchalance had cracked. For but a moment, I thought I was looking at myself.
“Ethos, in all its finite wisdom, came to harbour the thought of instilling life in this domain. Thus, in a moment of cognitive dysfunction, a stupendously stupid decision was made.”
Traces of anger dwelled within the voice. The target of said anger was someone else for a change.
Ethos, a name I was not all too familiar with. A coma is hardly the place for hearty heart-to-heart talks with 3 brothers of unfathomable ability.
“To sum up said affair in a few words: sustaining monsters on the verge of death to permanently chain their souls to this plane of existence, was a bold choice.”
“Due to the nature of this project, the expenditure of monsters in great quantities was per expectations. Potential side effects of deadly magic were as the name suggested.The ease of conjuring them a new body became a well regarded prospect”
A slight pause, a slight scoff followed.
“The only downside lay in the impermanence of quality, intelligent specimen.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
It sighed, only to curl its lips into a snotty smile.
“Imagine the investors' joy upon learning that the creatures the trainees were supposed to fight to the death, were instead begging for it.”
“Begetting the promised immersive experience one would find at the frontlines─monsters with psychological trauma:”
“Must I mention, the outcome of said attempt at indoctrination was as well perceived as one would come to think of it, were the intended callous soldiers to suddenly develop a sense of empathy.“
Empathy, huh? Must be nice having that in a world as cruel as this. I beg your pardon, as cruel as these. To be honest, I do envy them… with developing a sense of compassion being their biggest worry when fighting their monsters.
Privileged kids and their so-called issues─a tale as old as time itself.
.
Well, do tell: how did our fellow, mellow November blues end?
You do not have to look at me with your brows furrowed to such an extent. For once, I do want to listen and not ruminate about the intricacies of whatever my brain cells concocted.
What’s with that aghast expression? Bear with me, I do not think that mirroring the mien of a child, who came to witness the night of their conceivement, was validated here.
“The aficionado of oddly specific comparisons strikes again, with another well curated example.”
“Nonetheless, the dolor’s end…” its eyes came to face the horizon “… marked the beginning of sunder, of sacrilege, of sin.”
“Ethos, in its folly, came to break the greatest taboo. Magic ought to always be the produce of life, never shall it be its source.”
Wait, was it trying to convey that…?
“Regardless, of what conclusion you arrive at, the reality is far worse.”
“Why not take a gander at the blasphemy right in front of you?”
The invitation was extended, and the elongated trachea construct carrying my face shifted its focus to the other living being in the vicinity. Its countenance warped, having become one of sheer disgust.
Its lengthened flesh circled around this vessel’s supposed sister, coiling around, wrapping around.
The figure was still frozen in place. The vestige of chunky hot soup lay in limbo─the liquid suspended amidst free-fall caused by pried open eyes.
“This vile thing is the outcome of boundless hubris and the lack of decorum. A transgression against the god-given, against life itself.”
A voice resounded throughout, stained in disdain. Its attitude palpable, the contempt within tangible, the enunciation stressed views beyond sympathy or empathy. An unwanted object meets an unfiltered discontent.
“So, who do we have here? The tiny, little abomination, which held you alive for all this time… and it really takes itself as your biological sister, how heart-wrenching. Do you think her tiny thinking capacity could fathom that said will had never been her own to begin with?
“Would our beloved Stella here, have her world crumble, or would her brain evaporate?”
Logos mused, positioning its head atop her shoulder. Its body moved forward autonomously. Those hands moved ahead, those hands grabbed hers, dragging them underneath its chin.
Thumb and pointer were parted, orchestrated into a pose, a deep thinker in flesh and bone.
“What shall it be?”
Logos laughed deprecatingly.
“Of course, that was just a trick question; they are not worth any consideration. These foul copies are not even capable of harbouring such emotions unless told. They are just cheap emulations, a mere imitation. A mockery of life, its freedom, its duties… just vile items.”
"Ultimately, the terminology used for any potential reference of this gimcrack remains entirely up to your fancy. Nonetheless, if you are interested, I do have a few suggestions,” it remarked, its tone tinged in indifference, supreme.
What about Stella? The name feels awfully modern to me.
“Stella? It was a name selected in arbitrary fashion, conforming to the naming convention of human kind, embracing all its mundanity. Frankly, it was not worth investing any more thought into this affair,” the words followed without any hurry.
“Something so inconsequential is rarely of enough worth,” the message presented in dismissive nature.
“Or were you under the misguided assumption I cared enough to learn of her identification?” The taunt verbalised, evident in the eyes’ visualised great mockery.
It grabbed her rigid arm, and waved in my direction.
“Earth to Moirai, Earth to Moirai. These hapless pests, they are just tools, cursed ones at that. Their sole purpose is to serve as to what one might crudely refer to as ‘squeaky stress toys’,”
”You must understand, emotions, even shabbily faked, are the primer for magic. Such a positive feedback-loop did not escape the attention of the magical practitioners,” the lecture took a turn.
“... their chance to do good, by doing bad did not go unnoticed. They settled for horrible.”
The choice fell on horrible, how very much human. There is no need for further details. History, or rather humanity, has proven time and time again that creativity thrives if the intent is harm.
Dehumanise the ones to differ, abject the inhumane, disregard and debase the abnormal─this is our nature.
Laughter echoed through the room,uncaring, heartfelt, free of worry; it was one of thorough delight. Logos added a knowing wink.
“Moirai, you were indeed the best inspiration they could have asked for”
“It seems like you did not know. He does not know… he does not know.”
Blinding lights illuminated the room in response. Overwhelmingly bright did the TV flash, again and again. Short bursts of static noise announced what was to come.
My face spoke to me from the mounted otherworldly technology.
“This world required a story, it required a beginning at an end─you provided.”
Pictures of magicians flashed across the screen. Displaying their victories, their losses, the destruction left behind: landscapes were ravaged beyond recognition, cities lay torn asunder, mutilated corpses littered, and mountains of monster ornamenting the background.
“They needed a goal, a common enemy to unite for─you provided”
A being of primordial evil appeared. Everblack horns protruding from its skull, it was a behemoth, a monstrosity─ a malevolent hybrid of goat and giant. The earth shook with each step taken, varicose veins hid the violence rippling beneath its muscles. Its breath exuded sulphur.
The scene changed, the being was dead.
Prided youths posed with its cannibalised remains. Its mighty skin, skinned, formed into a cape. Innards became a jumping rope. A decapitated skull, transformed into a chair. Bones were fancied as necklaces, rings and toothpicks.
And gonads, made for a perfect ear-ring… judging by the beaming smile on her face.
Pious turned psycho.
“This world lacked realistic events, emotions and tragedies─your kind inspired.
Women, crying, on one hand their children, on the other their man’s head, detached by foreign knives, walking forward, for free passage. War absolves cruelty.
The image changed
Columns of chains atop a ship, shipping goods towards their new home. Shackled were hands, shackled were necks─deprived of freedom, worth, and humanity. Three-fifths of personhood.
The image changed.
Countless little pairs of shoes, once worn, now rested in front of a chamber. On the inside, ridges drawn on cold metal by desperate fingers told their stories. Fate of the deemed lesser.
The image changed.
The image changed.
The image changed.The image changed.
The image changed.The image chained. The image changed.
The image changed.The image chained. The image changed. The image changed.
Graves for the masses, rifles embraced by children, human experimentation on innocent subjects, starvation plagued towns and villages, warfare, chemical and biological─tragedies struck wherever the eye dared to linger.
In visual clarity presented men’s barbarity
Dawned the sullen realisation, never mentioned the atrocities wrecked by human genitalia. Even their bottom line, we had crossed it.
It followed, a brief interlude of darkness. The bright images had ceased, the horror within faded. The surface offered reflection, my visage momentarily mirrored. The expression on my face─disappointing.
All the trauma, the suffering, the devastation… it changed nothing.
Nothing! How shallow, how hollow.
The TV resumed its duties, the me-mimic inside did its due. The corpse flower did just watch. Perchance, no, I still did not push any flipping daisies.
.
.
Ring around the Rosie
A pocket full of posies
Ashes! Ashes!
We all fall down!
.
.
“Moirai…” it echoed from the far corner of this room. “You did ask for the point. The point of your being, the point to all of this.”
The flower shot into my face.
“There is none.” From close
“The story has been told. The big evil has been slain. Project: Zeitgeist is no more.” From afar
“This world needed a catalyst. Tainted magic, produced by tainted emotions, needed to be filtered.” In my face, here
“You, that was you” an echo, there
“Countless ounces of copied life are gone. Funding is removed. Magicians left? Not more than a handful.” nearer and nearer
“Balance has been broken. This realm, upheaven, damaged its stability. Soon order is to return. A great reset shall come. It will be the end of this world, the end of this game and the end of us” a flowery, promised grave, nearby
“It is not a rumour, we are a tumour” far, far, far away, almost too distant
“Your service is now redundant. You are no longer of use” The flower retracted its head. Giving me a thumbs up, before patting me on the back for a job well done.
I might not have contributed anything of value or done anything worthwhile at all. Though, at least things did not look as bleak, as I had imagined them to.
“This is my gift to you. These final days, enjoy them.” Logos, the ever-gallant gentleman donated me, the sweetest embrace I had received in two lives lived. This moment was truly special.
A moment for eternity, blissful seconds were no more. In the span of a heartbeat, the situation had changed. It let go of the hug, and I knew only good things are to come.
It violently squeezed the fleshy substitute.
Red meat vapour filled the air.
Sweet odour tickled the nostrils and a savoury sensation danced upon my tongue.
“Welcome to the world of Primal Survival, Moirai.”