Back to Our Adorable Little Trash Bag
The innocent and aggravatingly tall girl goggled at me. I must admit, I too am incredibly surprised to see she is not dead. I expected her to corral everyone she could, forgetting about her own safety, and then die to one of the many Anathema. She’s got a wee bit of a hero complex, the sweet child.
I would bet everything I own that the only reason she is still alive is because the Familiars did an emergency bond to save her protag ass.
“It’s me! How are you doing?” I ask. A little bit of a buzz from my hoarse throat creeps into my voice, but not too bad.
She stays silent in surprise for a little while, before realizing I said something, and shakes her head vigorously.
“W-what did you say?” she stuttered out.
“I asked: Wassup?” I say amusedly, a big smirk on my face.
“I-… Wassup? Seriously? That’s what you’re asking?! Are you joking!? Are you ok? How can you be so chill? What happened to you?!” she spluttered out, asking her questions rapid-fire.
“Whoa, whooooa... Slow down! One question at a time...” I raise my hands to mimic holding her off. My smirk grows bigger. This is fun. She is so easily messed with.
She opens her mouth, before closing it.
“ARE YOU SERIOUSLY MESSING WITH ME RIGHT NOW!?!?!” she shouts.
“Yup!” I say unabashedly. I have no shame. You should know this by now.
She waves her hands up in the air in sheer, unadulterated disbelief.
She... is obviously not high enough in level to help me. She obviously is a Spell Sword in build, just going off her ensemble, choice of weapon, and personality. Magical Girls are always on brand. Makes it easy to guess their abilities, not that it matters when they are so powerful.
Her movements, when thinking about the fact that she is a Magical Girl (with all the boosts that entails) I estimate she is nearing level 30.
This is... not bad for a couple of days, but even if she was specialized in healing arts with stats solely in Will and Perception, and even despite the massive bonuses just being a Magical Girl would give her, she would need to at least be near level 50. Right now, she looks like she needs to be at least level 175 to help me.
Welp!
I guess I’ll just enjoy her company before encouraging her to leave me here to die.
“Still haven’t answered my question...” I say teasingly.
She squints at me, before nervously glancing over my head at the Anathema and The King behind me. She runs her hands through her hair exasperatedly, grimacing.
“Well... uh... I have been doing ok. I’m a Magical Girl now... Are we seriously going to avoid the glaring issue that you are all monster-y now?! All of... this, is so wrong on so many levels.”
I give myself the expression of someone who is barely restraining their laughter, much to her chagrin.
Actually, I can hear something else. My furry blue ears twitch, before rotating to face a spot next to Betsie.
*snort* Teeheehee...
Hmmm, perhaps I can hear the Familiar. This would be despite them using their peculiar brand of magic to hide themselves. How interesting...
No matter. Just another sign of how far gone I am. Just too corrupted to survive.
“Well, it is very simple. After spending a few days in a Tormented zone without any Magic of my own, I am corrupted! Pretty cool looking, ain’t it?”
I brush back my gorgeous hair with a clawed and stiff metallic hand.
She looks like she wants to ask something, but I continue before she asks the question.
I lean forward, as if to eagerly whisper a secret.
“It hurts a bit, but I have had a pretty good time here! I even created an ENTIRE play with the help of the Anathema here for The King. It went reeeeally well! That’s why we are having these festivities. It’s to celebrate all of the hard work I and the other members of the cast have put into it, and to show The King’s appreciation for our unique entertainment.” I say energetically, stars in my eyes, and a super happy childish smile and posture.
I lean back and giggled happily, spinning around on a foot, before stopping and putting my hands on my hips proudly, chin up.
“Are you... okay?” Betsie asks haltingly, her face knitting together in deep worry.
“Yup! I’m having a blast!" So fine, in fact, that you should leave here now, so you don’t get killed by The King.”
Goddamnit. That was one of the least convincing acts I have ever done. I was letting way too much of my naturally manic personality bleed through for this situation.
Not only that, I sounded antsy! It’s humiliating!
Curse this fucking fever!
She looks so confused. It’s kind of funny.
A lightbulb went off in her head.
“Wait a minute! I have a skill that heals corruption! I can use it on you!”
It’s not going to help...
She starts channeling magic into her very obviously low-level skill. I notice a multitude of emotions running through the threads looped around my skin. The most obvious are a sense of impending doom, possessiveness, and protectiveness from The King.
He does NOT like this skill channeling going on. The emotions are so intense and heady. It’s fucking weird, like waves crashing violently against the cliffs of my mind.
Is that frickin’ concern from the monster?!
Naaah.
I ignore the very obvious concern radiating off our connection. It is palpable, and yet, just too absurd to even consider.
I try my best to push a sense of calm and ease through our bond and the emotions stop hitting me so hard.
“It won’t help me,” I warn her.
After a whole minute of channeling her Will, she throws the ball of raw, poorly honed healing Magic onto me. It stings a bit, like hydrogen peroxide over a gaping wound, but actually helps a bit. My sense of impending death is a bit further away.
I give myself 5 more minutes of life.
I sigh.
“I am unsurprised.” t
Though I am surprised by how dead my voice sounds now. I guess I hadn’t extinguished my hope. If it wasn’t for this fever I would have managed to quell it! By now, I am certain this disease is essence-caused rather than blood poisoning that took advantage of my corruption, because otherwise it would not be affecting my emotions so much, since it would not be able to affect my malformed soul so much. Still equally lethal.
She opens her mouth to say something hopelessly naïve in a kind attempt to assuage me.
I bring my hand in a slicing motion towards her, cutting her off in the pointless attempt.
“The Magic is nowhere near enough. You... will not be able to help me.” I say mournfully, my high, androgynous voice enriched with amusement at her lack of knowledge.
Her face flattens into a horrified expression, and I go on without sympathy.
“I can only just barely hear your Familiar, but that is enough to know that my corruption is too far gone.”
“See these ears, buddo?” I point up and twirl my fingers around my pointed ears with a “cuckoo” gesture. “Only Anathema, Torments, Magical Girls, and other Familiars can sense Familiars. I have the ears of an Anathema and my body is rejecting its body parts. Anyone with a modicum of knowledge on how corruption would make the same conclusion,” I said, smirking at my obvious insult of her intelligence. Distinguishing between my prior behavior and the now is important, and cruelty will be sufficient in showing that I am awful enough to...
“Regardless, the time I have spent here is enough to determine that I am a dead monster walking...”
I wink at the spot where Betsie is looking to for moral support. “I’m sure that your Familiar had noted everything wrong with me already, and the poor creature was trying to figure out how to explain it to you.”
I hold out my arms in a benevolent gesture, green-yellow fluid continuing to seep into my opera gloves. I let my mouth quirk up in amusement.
“I will help her explain. I am going blind due to crystal growths.”
She raises her hand to her mouth to hide her gasp, though my improved hearing still allows me to hear it.
“My arms are rotting alive, and I feels like my body is burning alive. Very soon, blood poisoning will kill me,” I go on with no sympathy.
“My very bones are fractured, and my fingers are slowly being paralyzed as they petrify into brass metal.”
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“Hahahahaahaha!” I laugh maniacally.
“Why, I even have Tormented burns over my body from skin-on-skin contact with The King. Hear that? We got kinky up in here. Teehee,” I bop my cute little head to the side, my large, adorable eyes glimmering with amusement.
I bring my hand to my mouth in a demure gesture, fingers touching my lips gently. I will admit the sweetness of the motion was... heavily offset by my huge grin, though I was not yet showing the extent of my teeth.
“Truly scandalous! A Torment and a human, transcending boundaries and creating a most detestable love. Oh, whatever will the world say?” I roar with laughter.
“Why, I even have aesthetic differences in the form of changed hair and eye color, and I’m not sure if you know, but my girlfriend, an expert on Magic by the way, says that changes like that are a sign that Essence is starting to like you. That’s why Magical Girls change so much.”
With every point I make, cruelly trouncing on every bit of sympathy she has, she shakes her head in denial and disbelief.
I never thought I would see such a reaction, particularly towards me, but she managed to look like she was stabbed with every injury I listed. I suppose I was too convincing during school that I was deserving of her sympathy.
Me. Deserving of sympathy? How amusing she would think that. How... sad.
“No... I refuse! I could bring you out of here! Find another Magical Girl with better healing. I don’t understand what is going on, but I can help. I’m sure!” Her voice cracks in sympathetic pain, tears welling up in her eyes. She clenches her fists.
“Let me show you how wrong you are, innocent child.” I grin slightly wider than normal, just enough to show the rows upon rows of wicked sharp teeth, each as long as a finger.
A disgustingly slimy, dark black tongue slithers out of my mouth.
I use my long, muscular ebony tongue covered in strings of putrid saliva to lick my lips in a truly disturbing fashion. With a disgusting slurp, I bring it back into my mouth, my head knocking back a bit from the sheer mass of my tongue rolling back into my mouth.
I turn my head towards one of the servants in the still tableau of Anathema and their Torment and laugh a request for them to be a darling and pull my gloves off my rotting arms, which they promptly fulfill.
Bulges distorted the flesh wherever I had harmed myself with particularly deep cuts, jagged slits tracing along my arm. The pus and blood drip onto the clean crystalline floor like a metronome.
Betsie blanches at my peculiar means of communication. Her eyes roam over the sheer damage on my arms.
I remove the fake skin sticker that had covered my stitched-up cheek.
A faint whisper comes from Betsie’s familiar at this. My big, floofy, blue ears twitch to catch every vibration through the Miasma itself and turning it into sound.
“This... are you... sure he isn’t a second Torment in disguise? He shouldn’t have such control over them and you already admitted that this person is acting pretty different from what you remember about Theo. They don’t even seem like a guy to me... Uh... that they can communicate with the Anathema is pretty suspicious too. Ummm... It is not unheard of for there to be one or more Torments. I... being on the edge of death from Miasmic corruption and being a Torment look pretty similar to my Familiar’s sight. It could be a trick?” she thought to Betsie shyly.
Internally, I grin. Doubt creeps in so easily, as it always does.
Ah, and the gender. Well, the Familiar is rather on the ball there. I don’t identify as male or non-binary, and my family doesn’t truly think I can possibly be female. Don’t have the parts after all.
So, I just choose male as it makes more people at ease. Less awkwardness and cruelty towards cis males.
I doubt I deserve the moniker of female. Not enough of society agree with it and plenty make a mockery of those who change their gender.
Besides, gender is for a person.
I am a monster.
But this is neither here nor there. This passing truth is brought up by this godawful sickness. There is no point to think of this once more! I’m already aware of my place in the world! I HATE this disease.
Before Betsie can respond to end this awkward silence, I interrupt. “There is a way to prevent me from dying in excruciating agony...”
They shouted in tandem. “There is?!” “There is?!”
“Indeed... though it is one that your Familiar has been desperately avoiding tell you,” My smile turns carnivorous, a content half-lidded stare on my face, like a spirit that just caught a tiny child after making it run for years on end in the kid’s nightmares.
Betsie looks at her familiar, with a betrayed face. Ahhh, she really hasn’t changed much during this undoubtedly traumatic incident. Just as much of an open book as before.
I am betting her Familiar is waving her forepaws around wildly, trying to fend off my accusations.
“Ahhhhh, don’t blame her though. She is doing her best. Really, I fully agree with her. Keeping it from you, Betsie, is the best option. Unfortunately, I really am selfish.” I analyze my nails in an affectation of shame.
I lock eyes with her, a wild glint in my large purple eyes.
“You could just kill me now.”
The look of horror on her face nearly made me laugh uproariously, and then I suddenly felt the urge to sob. Perhaps not the correct reaction to such an awful situation.
I make my sales pitch for immediate extinguishing of my continued existence. “I don’t have a System. It would be supremely easy. I highly doubt that The King would intervene to save my life.”
My ears rotated to hear creaking and squealing of metal, as if the table of the banquet was being slowly crushed. What is going on behind me?!
Her eyes widened and her breath sped up faster. She involuntarily took a step back at the desperation in my eyes, and... furtive glances to behind me... It really makes me want to look behind my back.
Still though, she can see it in my eyes. The realization dawns on her. My hope was solely borne from the fact she could kill me instead of this corruption.
I will cling to life no matter what. But if I can convince myself that there is really nothing I can do about dying, then I will gladly let someone else kill me. Perhaps this is contradictory. Perhaps it makes no sense, but I would not mind her killing me.
“I... NO!!! Why the FUCK would you ask me that? That’s not helping! That’s what I am all about!”
The King shifted at her screaming. Odd.
“I disagree.” I say, before chuckling a bit.
“After all, assisted suicide is legal in Washington State for a good reason. It avoids needless pain. I am currently in excruciating agony and it will only get worst,” I wave off her statement flippantly.
“So...” I whisper sibilantly, stepping forward “Will you do it?”
“NO! I refuse. I can save you! I will save you!” she shouts, sobbing through her gritted teeth. Sparkling tears fall down her cheeks, her inherent charisma pulling at my heart.
I look down in frustration, and then look up smiling with a big ol’ grin. It was an ugly, hungry, and malicious thing.
I believe it disturbed her deeply. I view it as highly unlikely that any form of manipulation will push her to leave, after all none of it has worked thus far, but there is still the smallest chance that convincing her that I am past saving will succeed.
“Well, then leave! There is only death here for you. I can tell, just by your movement, that you have nowhere near enough stats to fend off a Torment that has been around for a few days. It will -”
“Wait, a few days? What have you been talking about?! It has only been a few hours.”
“What?” I nearly lose control over my expression in my surprise. It appears I made a miscalculation. The likelihood of convincing her to leave has decreased even further.
Then it hits me.
“Time dilation... time goes slower in this zone. I see... even it bends the knee to The King. I don’t have the magic to fend off the effects of the Tormented zone and you do, don’t you?” I hiss, infusing my voice with quivering rage.
Just leave, goddamnit!
She seems taken aback by my animosity. “You were never like this. Unflappable, always kind and happy. What happened?”
“What happened? What happened?! I have always been like this. You simply failed to notice. You all do. I merely need a glimpse of someone’s eyes, and I immediately know what they are feeling. Everyone cannot understand me. I am a monster now and a monster then. I hurt my family, I hurt Masua and Enterion, I hurt my girlfriend, and I always get away with it, because I am a manipulative MONSTER!” I shout hoarsely.
“I do not feel emotions like all of you. I change my personality easier than do the whims of weather change. I puppet you all with ease.”
Infusing my true emotions should push her away.
I thought back to the last time I met up with Masua and Enterion. They were so eager to touch me while we talked, sticking their phantasmal fingers in my head to toy with my mind and indulging in pleasure, using my body as their doll.
So I brought them low. I expertly blamed them for ruining my soul, putting them in tears, making them beg and plead for a mere touch of my skin. It... pleased me, even despite their Essence of Rage and Revenge tainting my soul then, trying to overwhelm my mind. That was how strong my delight at influencing them was.
I know that Masua is still miserable after that conversation and I feel little remorse. That is how cruel I am. Enterion still gives me the cold shoulder for manipulating them like that.
“It doesn’t matter. I am no friend. You were wrong about me. Don’t waste your life for a monster. Go. Live your life. Survive to see another day. As my brother says, please live life for me” I say derisively.
I promptly turn around and walk back towards the feast, truly emulating the best of nobility.
“Where are you going?” Betsie asks.
“Isn’t it obvious? I am going the direction opposite to the one that you should be going. You fight him and you will die. Your Magic cannot even overpower his Miasma. Your aura extends, what, a few meters? That’s what is pushing back the Miasma.”
“Oh,” I turn back around, grinning. “And by the way, you do need to leave now. I’m not quite sure why, but The King seems to be getting more and more annoyed the longer you talk to me. I have no interest in seeing your corpse.”
“NO! I will help you! I will take you away from this monster. You will at least be able to die surrounded by your family.” her face contorts into a beautifully valiant expression.
I sigh. “Then I will add your tally to the list of friends who left me permanently.”
I turn to The King and bow apologetically. I giggled my sincerest apologies for prolonging his judgement and any missteps I have made. I then hummed in a patriotic tone, expressing my appreciation for granting me the boon of meeting my friend and allowing me to attempt diplomatic relations with her.
I greatly appreciate Your Majesty’s mercy and I take full responsibility for her spurning of Your Majesty’s kindness. I am willing to take punishment for her, but she refuses to submit and leave your Kingdom. Your Majesty, I cannot vouch for her. She has no intention of following your gracious rules, and intends to eliminate the court and eliminate submission by the dint of her sword.
During the midst of my statement, Betsie realizes, to her horror, that I am conspiring with a... Torment. The blight on all dimensions. I am a traitor to all of humanity.
And yet she STAYS!!!
Her Familiar shouts “Run!”
Smart one.
“NO! I will save Theo!”
Idiot!
Behind my back, she raises her sword, and lunges, clearing the gap to run me through. A shining Pink light flares around her and hearts float around her.
*sigh* Unfortunately it is too late.
At the end of my statement of laughter and song, The King stands up from his throne of imposition. He does not change in size to the towering colossus I know he is capable of. He does not move for a second. His face finally changes from a smile, and flattens into a grimace.
And he is infuriated.
All of the servants drop to their knees in synchronicity, breaking their bodies. Time grovels and cries apologies. His crown shines with the beautiful light of the Sun.
He would punish the fool for messing with his toy.
He is as far beyond Magical Girl Charity's existence as the Sun is beyond a speck of dust. What follows... I cannot even comprehend.
Her head... turns in on itself to paste as penance for defiance to the SUPREME POWER OF THE LAND. The very flesh of her head betrays her and submits to him.
In the Familiar’s pain, it inadvertently reveals itself, a tiny Shih Tzu.
I hear their endless screams.
A gutteral, enraged thing full of anguish and love.
It chills the bone and curdles your gut.
It goes on.
And on.
And on.
And on.
It’s too much for me. Gales of Miasma scald my skin. The Miasma starts warping the world even further, all blurring in a morass of unnaturally REGAL colors.
A wave of Magic as the Familiar dissolves alive over her friend’s corpse cuts into me as weaponized love disintegrates bits and pieces of my monstrous body.
I collapse right after Betsie’s corpse, weeping silently as I fall. Another has left me. They just can’t stay around.