Calypso had lived a cushy life. She had a cushy life and was adverse towards anything that could possibly hurt her. It’s the reason why the girl broke as badly as she did when she was alive.
So, as she jerked awake, it took a while for Calypso to realize that she had blacked out. And blacked out while being carried by the river, at that.
Calypso had to stop her series of splashes, as it obscured her sight. She needed to see how this fresh hell somehow got worse.
As she was sailing away, Calypso got a better view of the now destroyed bridge. The monster chasing her left what was once traffic into a junkyard. Cars, motorcycles, even trucks were shredded into bits that created scrap piles. These piles surrounded the now gapping gash it created in the bridge, as it tunneled downward from where it exactly stood the whole time.
To top it all off, the black cracks started to spread across the skies, beyond the bridge. Almost like a pulsating, deep wound—the black void was growing downwards. Almost following Calypso’s location.
All of that was once metal, brick, concrete. Now it wants to do something special and horrible to solely Calypso. She knew that, for this beast, it was a display of power. A warmup. Now, it can finally have fun.
And as soon as she made that realization, Calypso was helpless as the Monster emerged from the river, leaping from the waves as it arched towards her.
There was no plan. No ideas or sudden ability to act that was locked away within Calypso this whole time. The girl simply cried out, screamed, waved her arms feebly because that was all she could do. It was all that she simply was, defined by these last moments.
Until there was this growing, iridescent flash. And it didn’t just emit from Calypso’s raised hand, that was thrusted forward which again—was based purely on panic. The air around her, the skies, the water, the scenery behind them—the light gathered within these spaces and converged towards her hand—engulfing the monster as it shrieked in unholy rage, being flung back so hard that Calypso was sprayed in the face by the water droplets that hung on its body.
Panting so hard, it felt like she was forcing out the air she needed at that moment, Calypso glanced at her hand, seeing the shard of her soul, still pressed into her palm.
Her body immediately tensed in pain, floating on her back once more as the light faded. Everything about this battle for her very soul was taking its toll. She was so tired, that she just elected to barely float within the current. She was on the verge of tears as this kept escalating, but was simply too tired to do so anymore. Every inch of her being felt like dull knives firmly digging into her, just simply too tired. Resigned to her pending fate.
Until she felt a new type of pain… One that feels rather recent and that wasn’t a cut, or a bruise, or simple exhaustion.
It was at her side, as she felt it with her dainty hand under the water… It was a slap mark.
Alice.
Calypso realized and looked back at the now far away bridge. In the ruin and chaos, her dear friend not in sight.
The girl clutched at her side, where once again her friend saved her. Once again, waxed on about how her life is somehow more worth it than hers. And for what? A girl that’s oh so smart and yet does nothing meaningful with it due to no imagination? That could use her so-called talent to do anything she wanted, when she never had a tangible or good desire in her pathetic time on Earth?
Everyone so quick, to give her reasons to keep stay—when that wasn’t what haunted her during those terrible moments she was left to her devices, left alone. When she was forced to look inward, open up this oh so pretty tin box of a girl, the contents inside scarce, stale and ultimately lacking. Could anyone not listen close, only gawk at how well made this tin box was, when all she--it did, was rattle?
All this quest had done was made this frail and lifeless girl confront the nature of her existence, and how it was barely held together.
“B… But…” Calypso struggled to talk to herself, something that came so naturally she can barely do now. “Me being… Used for murder… Would hurt them more…”
It was yet another flimsy excuse, but at the very least two things were true about it. Other people’s lives were at stake—in addition to the image of her legacy.
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And if this was just a test of survival, to show whatever this supernatural system how she lived… Calypso, above everything else she was capable of, was brilliant of keeping excuses alive better than herself.
Closing her eyes, Calypso forced herself into thought. Probing her memories, trying to concentrate on what could be next.
Only to feel the flow of the river stop clean, causing the girl to fumble in what clearly was a change of the water. Chemical smell, the volume of it a lot of feet deeper than before, and her splashing echoing against walls.
Riverside High’s pool hall.
Calypso struggled to swim, then climb out of her former high school’s pool. Coughing up the mix of river and pool water in her lungs, as she flopped on the checkered floors.
Only to hear the now-nettled screams of the monster bursting from the pool’s surface, Calypso jerked awake from the daze to roll out of the way and thrust her palm forward once more.
She then felt a massive gash slice at her side. An eruption of blood quickly following after, as the light blinded them both.
This was yet another different level of pain, a way different breed. Calypso couldn’t scream out in reaction, she could only let whatever the impact was carry her across the pool hall, as she slammed into the nook that was the entry point.
Falling onto the ground, right on her ass, once she was finally allowed to move—immediately clutched at her damaged side. Wide-eyed, face stretched into terror as she tried to make sense of what the hell just happened.
Lifting up her hand, to see it coated with black ooze.
Peering her eyes down in a hurry, Calypso saw that her wound wasn’t ordinary. It was more of a tear versus a clean slice of flesh. Torn to the point of being repeatedly serrated into chunks, a wound so deep yet Calypso couldn’t feel any… Piercing or puncture. Almost as if, whatever was cut—any organs or tissue, it was shredded into liquification.
If that didn’t do it, a quick series of flashes within her mind caused Calypso to deem this a terrible revelation. An out of body experience, she saw glimpses of herself being brought into the ER, covering in multiple gashes that oozed this black liquid. Are those wounds catching up to her…?
As she pathetically held the goop that was once her innards, Calypso looked towards the monster, praying that it wasn’t going to follow up on this attack.
But. It was clearly dazed, still dazed, due to her soul’s radiance that was slowly fading.
Was it a stray swipe? A last dig at her before it was stunned? Calypso reasoned that it could be either, it was still… Wrong. Felt wrong on the limited information she had.
Until she noticed the pool’s edge, where they both emerged from.
Claw marks that were deeply embedded, to the point where a chunk was ripped off alongside the craving, already sunk at the bottom of the pool.
As the black crackles began spreading forth and outward, covering the surface of the water itself within these crazy moments. Much faster than before, somehow possible.
It clicked for her, glancing back and forth from the cracks and her wound. Calypso fashioned the logic, as she recalled what Alice said. Destruction of her soul, yet another unfair advantage the monster had, able to attack her AND her surroundings. Getting much worse as the quest continues.
As the monster shook its head, growling audibly into tangible hatred. What it thought was a simple takeover, proving to be a massive annoyance.
She didn’t understand how she did it, but Calypso scrambled onto her wet feet, forcing her back into the door, and slipped into a run onto the halls. She had to get there, despite how painful it’s going to be.
But her feet couldn’t find stability, grip, as she waved her arms and jerked about, cursing herself. Craning her head back in fear, the monster was already gaining, it was seconds away from just snatching her.
Thankfully, her racing mind gave her the quick solution to her problem. Using it.
Calypso quickly adjusted into a surfing pose, leaning towards her left as she lets the momentum carry her across the hall, her slippery soles allowing her to dart towards the stairs within precious moments.
Before running forward, she fell onto the first step, hands and knees due to the surge of discomfort from her ruined side. There was nothing for it, Calypso grasped at it—using that pain to jolt herself strength, as she struggled onto her feet and dashed up.
From the sounds behind her, the monster did not like any of what happened at all. But she couldn’t focus on that, as she coasted on the damage boost as she climbed what used to wind her when she was normal and alive. It was a surreal experience in general, but it was that aspect of it that negged at her as she crossed one floor, then the next.
Giving out completely on the third. When she had two more left, and there was no more energy in her to even cross a step.
Practically throwing herself onto her back, Calypso then raised her arm up again, ready to counter the oncoming scream of the damned.
And nothing happened.
“no no no no,” Calypso looked at her palm’s crystal, now seeing how little brilliance it had left. “please no, we’re almost there, no, not yet”
But the sight that she took in, after hearing sudden silence, more or less solidified that she had little to no chances now.
The monster stood there. Just quietly grimacing, as if it knows that doing so was much more scary than screaming or howling.
And without warning or pause, raked the stairway’s brick wall—with cracks spreading instantly from the impact zone.
Calypso watched as her raised arm splattered out black ooze. An expression of confused, defeated sorrow as multiple gashes reopened and dotted down her forearm at an upward angle, the back of her hand spilt into sections, and how her pinky now hung at the end of what she could call a flap of flesh.
She could only whimper. She could only gawk. And as the monster reared back both it’s arms, Calypso could only wait for the inevitable.
Be it insanity or just pure and utter spite, Calypso simply refused.