The endless swirling purple vortex of unblinking focused eyes stares deep into my soul and continues pestering my every step. The anticipation is both exhilarating and dull. I mean, I am all for a good stalking but come on! It must be days at this point and still nothing? Where is the sweet release of death? Dah, what am I saying? The idea of dying – turning into a rotten corpse capable of nothing and just being another victim – by Fael, that sounds really fucking dull. Dull, dull, dull! Really, am I getting incapable of a single creative thought here? Maybe that’s what this place is – just a creepy dull tunnel of dull eyes that makes you lose all creative and interesting thoughts. Here I was hoping to come across a traveler and get some answers, and properly reacquainted with my dear Savra. No matter, she is squirming with excitement in my grasp and I just can’t wait to make her wet, dripping and satisfied. You shouldn’t keep a pretty lady waiting, after all.
Step after step, thud after thud – god I was looking forward to something, anything but this – this is just walking from point A to B. Why am I here? Is this my dull punishment? If they wanted to bore me to insanity, why not just lock me up?
“Come on! Just attack me! Do something! Anything! Look, I know whatever creature made you is probably disappointed with your lack of commitment and probably threw you in the proverbial trash when you were a child but please… give me a little ACTION you dull shit!”
Damned road doesn’t have any pebbles on it or id be hurling them at each stupid, dull eye. No, no, no, this is not how any self-respecting serial killer acts. I’ve guided many on long trips through the Fumes of Fael. I am used to traveling. I travel alone after a kill so I am used to solitary walking as well, so why is this so… dull. So irritating? It’s all so dull – there’s that word again. I do so detest everything it is and stands for.
“Dull – its even shitty to say. Dah-ull. Like whom thought of combining those four letters together to create something so irritating. Dull is just the stupid boring, or the contrived tedious. Who am I even talking to? You are just a set of shitty eyes – maybe that’s all you are… just eyes, unable to do or think about anything. Honestly, now that I think about it, I really do pity you. You are like a tree, except trees are mercifully lacking in senses so they don’t realise how useless they are.”
Mmm that felt good to say. To speak. To converse. I don’t want to talk with Savra before I give her a proper welcoming back or she might sulk. Well, I do have Mosline to speak with if all else fails.
“Isn’t that right, Mosline? You are still trudging along and must have gotten used to this weird eye situation too.”
Mosline quietly neighs in response.
“Don’t be like that! You don’t even have regular ass feet, why would your hooves hurt?! Since you are dragging so much, I’ll give you a little break.”
A snort.
“Now don’t be taking that sassy tone with me, missy. I have half the mind to let Savra give you an intimate moment if you keep that up.”
A sigh.
I shake my head “Honestly with women like these I might go a little stir crazy. Actually, that makes sense! I am definitely a little stir crazy here because I’m lacking proper planning. I would be planning my next murder, or how I was going to hide the body or something at this point normally. This is a fantastic opportunity to experience something completely unknown but here I am, whining like a little bitch – no offence, Mosline.”
No response.
“Well, I’m getting a little peckish. Let’s have a bite to eat.”
Hopping into the cart for the first time is an interesting experience. It is filled with boxes of varying sizes and shapes. Each one is pretty light but together its quite the weight. If I had to drag this, well a week would probably take two or three, and apparently I don’t have the supplies for that. Supplies? Right! There’s a brown wooden box at the front of the crates which is only closed by a simple latch. All the others are bolted shut. I mean what, do they not trust me? It’s not like I would go out of my way poison whatever food is within those crates. After all, poison is a really dull method of killing – no, not again! Not that word again!
BANG
Damn that felt good. Nothing like a little crate kicking to get the irritations out. Normally I have a whimpering body to take my frustrations out on but no matter, this will do. While Mosline can walk, I can’t really kill or maim her. Unfortunate, I know. Well, I am sure whatever is in that crate will be fine. I’ll just say there was an attack on the road or a pothole or something. What are they going to do, check the road and find out? They wouldn’t dare set foot in here. Actually, this would be the perfect place to make a hideout in. Right in the middle of all the planes. No patrolling guards to watch out for. No one would dare follow me in. Why hasn’t someone done this before? Its just eyes. Endless waves of a deep purple glow staring constantly. Unwaning and unfaltering. Okay, what food do I have here?
There are seven sets of three silver packets. Each packet has one of three words stamped on it. I tear a ‘breakfast’ packet open… it doesn’t really have a smell or anything. That’s disappointing. Hmm, so it’s the old, boring food of purity. Nuts and raisins. Pure in every regard. Where’s the fun? The excitement? I thought maybe the guards would have given me rotten food or something, but I suppose that’s quite difficult to do when the whole ‘rotting’ process doesn’t really happen that fast in the plane of purity. When is rotting pure and when it is just filth? I suppose that is up to interpretation. For the rot its pure to, well, rot. In the eyes of humans though, it’s a pretty filthy process unless you like farming I suppose.
I pop some wheat in a bucket and place it below Mosline. She slowly eats it. How very thoughtful each bite is. Each comp is so very peculiar. What is this side-to-side action going on? Damn, this is actually pretty interesting! One more tick on the ‘keep Mosline around’ column – as much as it pains both me and Savra, my beloved, to say.
I just stare at Mosline eating, and she returns my gaze with a nurturing one of her own. Damn I want to kill her so badly. I try the whole weird side-to-side munch but it just hurts my jaw after a few minutes. Ah well, that was fun while it lasted. Now a bit of water for her and a bit of water for me. One barrel of water is barely enough for the both of us so a bit of rationing is needed, huh? Ah well, I could just ride in the cart if all else fails. It’s not like there is anyone who would care about my bad no-water breath here. Time to start moving again. The faster we get to the plane of pleasure, the faster this whole ordeal is over and I can experience something.
Rows and rows of eyes loom above me,
Most men would just flee,
Damn I have a nice knee,
I wonder where I could pee.
Huh, not bad – and off the edge, right into one of those stupid eyes is preferable. A little old rhyme scheme there – what would that be? An AAAA? Hmm, I suppose that is somewhat unique to the normal and usual ABAB situation, right?
The lunch and dinner packs were the same damn thing. Nuts and berries, nuts and berries, and nuts and berries. Are they trying to insult my taste buds? Nuts, berries and water. Honestly, having a little nibble of Mosline and dragging this damn cart myself is looking like a pretty good option. She is quite amusing and useful though, so maybe I’ll just bite the bullet and wait. Wait, how does one bite a bullet, a piece of metal? It would fly way too fast in the air and if you somehow managed to bite it anyway, outside of teeth shattering you’d just make the bullet unusable… right? And why would you bite something before loading it? You could damage the shell. A terrible saying created by dull – NO!
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Sleep here is going to be fun. In the cart there is respite from the endless purple glow. Being surrounded by darkness is such a glorious feeling. I just feel so complete – dark body, dark soul, dark desires, and a dark room. What more could I, Fa Fumerunner, ask for? Well, a pillow and proper bed would be a start in all honesty but I suppose a sleeping bag on top of crates will do.
My dreams are all the same. It’s apparently a hereditary thing, whatever the fuck that means. You telling me my parents and grandparents all had the same dreams and somehow when born into the family you get the same damn dreams? Well, they are lucid which is charming. Yes, its always the same. I walk through a valley of fume and smoke. I explore the different shades and changing landscapes. The colours are vibrant and thick this time. Reds, yellows and… purples today. Really Fael? Today of all days you decide that purple smoke should appear in my dream? Well, that just means today if I were to travel through the Fumes of Fael, there would be plumes of fumes that are deadly, toxic and ones that get you real high. Red deadly, yellow toxic, and purple tends to be high. The fumes begin to disperse. Strange. Can’t say I remember this happening before – this would mean that in the fumes of Fael, somewhere, would be a lack in… fumes. The fuck? Maybe it’s just colourless – no, in my dreams there is always colour. It is a warning, a heads up to my family of what’s to come. Why would there not be any… eyes. Eyes. Countless eyes. Staring at me. Watching. Staring. Hungry. Haunting. Judging. Starving. Waiting. Salivating. Watching. Staring. Hungry. Haunting. Judging. Starving. Waiting. Salivating. Watching. Staring. Hungry. Haunting. Judging. Starving. Waiting. Salivating. Watching. Staring. Hungry. Haunting. Judging. Starving. Waiting. Salivating.
STOP
There is no stopping this dream, it would seem. A whistle. There’s no floor – I fall down a tunnel of purple eyes that are all smooshed together without even a millimeter of space separating them. Wind whistles past my ears – maybe I’m falling to my death? Hopefully I am, that would be quite exquisite… No, I’m just falling. Falling… Falling… please, let there be a change. The exhilaration of hitting terminal velocity is gone and I am just bored now. This is a dream; I should be able to control this. I am in control after all.
“No.”
…Huh? I didn’t say that. Was that you, Savra? I unwrap my beautiful Savra and hold her tight as we fall. Her beautiful curves, her voluptuous grip – oh I could hold her forever. I raise Savra. Maybe a little cut and I’ll wake up. I press my open hand to her blade and with a slow, luxurious stroke, my palm slices open. Balls and splutters of crimson seep, pop and drip from the wound like dancers twirling out of my perfectly sliced skin. The pain is so unique every time – I could get addicted to this. This is just sheer pleasure. Pleasure… oh, that is where I am going. I’ve always wanted to go but ill be damned if I have to travel through the tunnels of Tretriah. Damn place is a death trap without a guide and I would get butterfingers and accidentally slit their throat traveling. It seems like such a nice spot to hide a body and when the opportunity arises… well, no matter.
“Is this really all you are? A bumbling, mumbling mess of evil intentions?”
Well, that’s rude. Evil intensions yes. Bumbling, mumbling mess, no.
“Is it? Ruder than calling an audience watching your performance ‘dull’?”
Don’t say that word.
“Or what, are you going to kill me? Calling an audience dull only means the performer is much duller.”
I swear to Fael, don’t add a suffix to an insufferable word.
“And why not? You are just falling in an endless loop. I want action just like you do and outside of a monologue or two, you haven’t given me much of anything to work with here.”
Hey, you can read my mind, right? Have I not been entertaining?
“Eh, compared to the regular performers here? You aren’t anything special. Your poetry is pretty bad though, so I guess that’s something. Normally when killers get into poetry, its good. Really good. Hauntingly good. Rhyming ‘knee’ and ‘pee’? Really? Also peeing on me was not cool but hey, I don’t mind.”
You don’t, huh? So, all these eyes are the audience? Also, just because you lack the ability to apricate art doesn’t give you the right to tattle off baseless criticism.
“If that was art then I am just a figment of your imagination and yep, that’s just me. It’s a one man show so a one-person audience suffices, no?”
No! Who would think such a thing? I am exquisite. I am delectable. I am too good at what I do for merely one person to engage my glorious performance. Damn I really am too good at what I do now that I think about it again.
“Really now? What is that exactly?”
Killing. Slaughtering. Committing great evils, and creating wonderful works of poetry.
“Hmm, I was onboard before the last one there, Fa.”
Of course, an adoring fan would know my name.
“Yeah no. Not an adoring fan although to be honest, at this point most people would have given into insanity or started screaming or something. I am fascinated with how resilient you are which exciting.”
Damn right I am resilient!
“Quite. Now –”
Say that with your chest! You know I’m damn good!
“Okay, yes, sure. You are damn resilient. Now let me finish.”
A little sarcastic but alright, you may continue.
“Wow, I haven’t felt this amount of self-importance for a long time. Well, do you have any questions for me? I did go out of my way for this conversation and I would hate for it to just be me talking at you.”
Oh, how kind. I do appreciate the opportunity to ask you why can’t you just attack? I mean really, I know you want to. Just do it. Attack me. Tear me limb from limb. Do it! Coward! Let me feel pain! Agony! Anything!
“No, no, no, that’s not how things work here.”
And how do they work here? What’s your aim?
“…oh, an actual question and a good one. I am quite impressed, I must say. Well, well, well, that requires an answer then.”
Quit stalling, coward.
“Hey! My name is – well that is not important. Sure, call me ‘coward’ if you want. I prefer ‘curser’ or ‘watcher’ or something cool, but that works too. No, you have chosen to walk Langnet’s road and so a punishment is in order. If I just killed you, that wouldn’t be much of a punishment. If I allowed a cruel monster to attack and torture you, that would only be a few moments of agony. Plus, you desire that agony, no. No, the best torment is for you to walk without a thing to do. Let your mind go insane… maybe.”
What if I just kill myself?
“Oh, feel free to at any point. I love a man who just gives up. Just like all the others that walked this path. Weak to the very core”
Are you calling me a coward?
“Nah, I’m calling your bluff dull. We both know you wouldn’t.”
I will jump off this bridge and slice every eye open.
“Oh… eyes? Is that what you think the purple is? I suppose everyone has an interpretation.”
It’s not what I think – I know its eyes. I know everything surrounding me is just eyes.
“Interesting. Well, ever wonder what’s behind the eyes?”
Oh… now that’s something interesting. I would love to find out.
“Well, that will be for another time. Now let me just give it to you straight. Oh, I do love doing this…”
Oh, a torturer telling their victim exactly what’s about to happen so the anticipation hurts them right until the first burst of agonizing pain hits?
“Well, sort of – eh, let’s say yes to that. For now, until you die, you will be cursed. I get to choose what entails, of course. What will cause you the most strive, the most pain and agony. Oh, there is so much to choose from but I am a patient being and will wait until the right moment. Now, I can’t tell you what the specific curse is, but just know that it’s coming. I have a few really good options…”
I’ve been cursed since I was born with being this damn handsome and smart. This is nothing and I am honestly excited for whatever is about to come. I am sure it will make my monotonous walk that much more exciting. Could you please think about having monsters hunt me down constantly?
“Eh, been there and done that. You are not a good person to give that curse to. I think you would enjoy being the hunted too much and I can tell you would gleefully kill most monsters I send your way. No, I have a more exciting opportunity before me. I’ve decided on your curse.”
So, can I wake up now?
“Wait, you didn’t realise? You’ve been walking for days at this point.”
I have? I’m not falling? My feet are sore, and my stomach is aching. I stop. It feels like I have been walking for a long time – how? What? I climb into the cart. Four days of rations have been consumed and I am down to dinner on the fifth. A curse, huh? Whoever that is really doesn’t like people who walk down this road. I suppose it makes sense why people don’t go here…
Hmm, I’ve got a weirdly itchy nose. Wait, why are my hands wet? Why is my nose running? I don’t think I have a cold – what is this feeling? Its… awful. It’s like searing red hot balls of iron have filled my chest. I can’t breathe. Is this the curse? Constantly struggling to breathe – that’s cruel but not nearly what I thought it would be – no. No, this is… am I sobbing? I didn’t even know my body could produce tears, let alone this. My whole body is shaking uncontrollably, how peculiar.
Am I… what have I done? How could I have committed all those awful acts? The pain, the agony, the sadness – it’s too much for my heart. I… I can’t bare it! WAIT NO! NO, NO, NO! No… I… fucking… please no… not empathy…
How could I? How could I do all those things. This is not art. This is not excitement or exhilaration. My legacy is the harbinger of sadness. How dare I stand up on trail and joke about all the families I split apart. I detest every action I’ve done. I really am evil to my core.
WAIT NO! DON’T SAY IT! FUCK! Why… damn coward…
“I’m sorry everyone. I am so, so sorry for all the pain I have caused. I will repent. I will be a force of good. Please… forgive me.”