Understanding The Madness Of The Void

--- Jon Whitaker ---

He once more walked down the steps into DeSade’s basement, the Dark Lord’s demonic butler following behind him.

The basement had somewhat transformed over the course of the week, a massive and complicated spell circuit drawn into the ground before breaking off into several smaller sub-circuits. Each with a small pillar in the center covered in even more eldritch scripts, leading to gems of various types to form a second circle around the central. All of this was illuminated by a ring of candles to form a third layer of protection to contain and separate whatever they were about to summon.

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but look at the pillar standing in the center of all this, the chained chest atop it containing the Void Core and sealing the Madness within.

“Are you ready for this?” DeSade asked him as the older man walked around the ring of candles while reading a book in hand, making sure that absolutely nothing was wrong for what they were about to attempt.

He couldn’t help but scoff. “If I said no would either of us actually stop at this point?”

“No. I don’t think we would.” The Dark Lord confessed as he snapped his book close with a smirk. “Not so long as our work is left undone.”

“The hunt must be finished.” He nodded, the beast in his head patiently awaiting its prey.

“When you’ve steeled yourself simply open the chest and the ritual will begin.” DeSade told him. “Beyond that, what happens is in your hands and yours alone.”

“Right, I’ve still got to negotiate with whatever we fish out of the void.” He swallowed, stepping past the circle of candles. “Any tips on that?”

“Entities of Madness are normally beyond the understanding of man, each and every one insane to the human mind. That said, they can be understood by man, if the human in question is already mad.” DeSade explained to him once more. “In the Abyss that is the Black Briar thought is more important than any other aspect of reality, as such ignore the whispers that you cannot understand and focus on the ones bound to your own madness. For in the world of Madness, only the mad are sane.”

The older man sighed, with a bitter chuckle. “That is the true strength and danger of this ritual in the end, for in many ways our individual madnesses are both our safety and our freedom. So to seek something in the Abyss that understands that Madness is to enslave a part of both ourselves and it to one and other.”

“Is wanting to be understood really that bad?” He had to wonder, his fingers on the box that he knew wanted to be open.

“Not so long as you truly understand each other.” DeSade admitted with a wry grin to his voice. “Just be careful that the thing you understand is not merely the part of you wishing to be understood. For in such a case only one of you would be enslaved to the other…”

He considered that final lesson for a moment, before opening the box and seeing if he was truly mad enough to understand the abyss.

The darkness wrapped around him, Black Briar growing forth from the box and devouring the light as it embraced him, refusing to share anything.

His drifted across the space as it grew dark, darker, and yet darker still as the shadows became darker than black. An existence cold and suffocating, as if he was a thousand leagues below in the darkest abyss of the seas.

A pressure filled his mind, one oh so familiar as its fingers ran across his thoughts.

Stolen story; please report.

Fingers that retracted as the beast in his mind hungrily nipped at them, almost desperate to have something squirming between its teeth.

Teeth that ground against each other in his mouth as he panted through them, the taste of iron on his tongue as he slowly began to breathe.

He blinked, realizing he was kneeling on a forest floor, a crescent moon looking down on him from above. A moon that hungered for the hunt, it’s light but the smile of the void.

All around the winds whispered, the chitter of insects carrying on a salt water breeze like a secret just for him.

He clinched his eyes shut, and told himself to, “Focus… Focus on what you can under- understand…”

(What… what do I understand?)

He… he understood the hunt, the pursuit of something no matter how dangerous.

The buzzing of insects grew louder, the salt on the wind thick enough to taste, and the secrets buried ever deeper.

It all made his mouth water…

Pushing against the pressure growing ever heavier, he forced himself onto his feet, using a nearby tree to prop himself up as he stood.

Breathing through his teeth, he needed, (need to focus… need to… need to…)

He punched the tree as hard as he could, let its wood bite into his hand deep enough to hurt. (Pain… I understand pain…)

The salt stung at the tear in his flesh, the secrets’ truth hurt to hear, and the insects screamed at their loss…

Pangs of hunger tore through his empty stomach…

He clutched his stomach as he stumbled forward in search of- of… something…

The distance didn’t matter, be it mere steps or worlds away, so long as he found that thing he was looking for… hunting for… HuNgRY for…

He could hear the sealife splashing across waves, buzzing of wings as they descended upon their prey, and while the secrets were tasty they proved unfilling… They did nothing to sate his HuNgER…

Something moved in front of him, and more on instinct than anything else, he lunged forward digging his teeth into it killing/consuming/devouring it.

When it quit moving he found himself alone in an empty clearing, blood on his hands… he understood this. He did not like it, but he understood.

He understood what it was to be alone and wish you weren’t.

The skittering of a swarm never alone grew distant, almost like the sea content with its solitude…

Loneliness hurt, almost like a second unending hUNgeR in the heart…

And just like the hunger in his stomach, the hunger in his heart drove him on.

More things moved near him, and he tried to focus on it, focus on something that wouldn’t leave him alone, and for a brief moment he caught sight of someone who smiled at him… only for the pangs of HUNGER to flare and his maw to open wide.

Again and again this happened, as again and again they hurt the ones close to them not because they wanted to but because of a part of them that they couldn’t control.

Ying’s broken and bloodied corpse laid on the ground, her face shifting to Miss Edna’s worried looks as he returned covered in blood, the slight concern to his mother’s eyes whenever she knew he was holding something back, Artemis’s fear whenever she flinched away, the anger of Felicia’s snarl when they fought.

He understood what it meant to hurt someone you cared about.

The ever silent swarm did not…

In front of him was a massive beast, so large it couldn’t be comprehended from so close. Across its slick inky black body were hundreds of hungering mouths, each full of fangs ready to devour reality itself. Something it was liable to do as it shivered, the painful grumble of its stomach loud enough to shake the very world.

A single pale eye looking so much like a full moon opened, his reflection looking back from within it as he placed his hand on the beast, unafraid of its many mouths even as they nipped at his flesh. After all, the pain was so much less than what they both knew, what they’d both been through. Pain he hoped he could aleve at least somewhat, because the fact was as tears fell down his face…

“I understand.”