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Entry 14.4 - Braving: A Final Stand

Surprisingly, the beast that laid dormant—trapped and used by an 18-year-old girl—which said girl had to eat it alive to gain such power, instantly swung at Calypso with its scythe-like claws.

Calypso barely had time to react, rolling away once the force of the strike knocked her on her ass. She had that initial shock, at such strength, but quickly regained the reality of this situation. Of course, it’s strong. It’s supposed to be.

The dainty girl focused her gaze once more at the Grim Subsumed sole glowing eye. It wasn’t so much an eye, but a tunnel that beaconed a light source from the other side. Calypso knew the source of such brilliance and is the sole reason why this pathetic excuse of a thing has become whole once more.

“Come, you big bastard…” Calypso struggled to her small feet, wobbled due to her weak knees. “Throw your tantrum and let’s get this over with.”

The hunched, living corpse simply stood upright in response. Somehow much more chilling to Calypso than some roar or immediate attack.

It prowled backward into the dense, unmovable shadows that surrounded Calypso and it. Completely disappearing into the night.

Calypso gritted her teeth, looking around herself with a notable trembling in her otherwise prepared stance. The senses of a Consumed, active or passive, were greatly missed—their absence greatly felt.

It wasn’t until the sounds of whistling bone, due to the Grim diving back into the fray, that Calypso dodged out of the way once more. The monster crashed, only to scramble back onto all fours, and darted towards Calypso with intensity. Calypso, in turn, just fell painfully onto her back. Easy pickings for the beast that was completely over her now.

Despite lacking her instincts of a beast, Calypso was never less powered by adrenaline. Her eyes searched, something—anything to get out of this and not destroy what she—and the others—were putting so much on the line for.

It clicked, as she stared right at the decaying leg that was by her foot.

She kicked it—she kicked it hard with as much feeble strength as she could ever muster. And if the initial strike didn’t work—she didn’t even leave it up to chance. She rapidly kicked into something gave away.

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Luckily for her, the Grim Subsumed buckled on its left side—fell to said side with its left leg bent against the creature’s own weight, causing Calypso to roll away once more.

Calypso barely could pant, let alone lift herself up. After all, this is the same girl who often got winded from traveling up the stairs during high school.

Her aching arms could only quake and burn, not hoist herself back up. Calypso cursed, within herself, directly at herself.

And just like the strength suddenly leaving her, Calypso’s very surroundings began to twist and fester.

Like that, the mental, spiritual assault waged against her during the initial Grim Subsumed invasion resumed. Resumed as if nothing happened… Yet, because the process was nearing it’s end, the effects were so much more potent.

The air around them not only got deathly cold, but became heavy with dark gray. The shadows were shifting in the background, surging and warping into various disconcerting shapes…

Shapes that came all too familiar.

The constant memories she thinks about. The inner darkness that made her barely understand herself until it was too late. The anger that surged within, held back so much that it grew cold and venomous, leaking out of her anyways. The pressures of keeping all of that in, despite the clear and present damage accruing.

Not only laid out bare for this inner world to see, projected on the wall as these incorporeal concepts cascade across the landscape... But the sheer amount of them physically weighs Calypso down. Making her unable to get up under her own feeble power.

She kept the recent revelations, the growth she somehow mustered in these painful months of her life… She honest-to-god did. Regardless, this is near the source of such longstanding pain. Hopes are hopes, but truth will always last longer.

Calypso being the way she was, and the fault she will always naturally gravitate towards that start—that’s true. It’s something she has to deal with for the rest of her life, and despite these moments of brilliance and warmth… It will always have a danger of fading away. Constantly having these moments of being beaten down, only to “remember” that she’s loved and has value. Over and over again.

She curled her fingers to form a fist. Pushed both of them down, using her knuckles to dig into the flooring so that she could rise. Her bones crackled and bopped, she immediately fell down twice over.

But the other truth of this matter is that if she doesn’t do anything—she’s simply dead. People are going to die in the worst fashion possible. Not only dying to something that’s mad, monstrous, but remains used in perversion. An era of unrelenting darkness is going to follow, even for the people that are strong enough to survive.

This isn’t about her. Not anymore.

This struggle earned her the ability to sit up, only her upper body away from the ground. Trembling but no longer bound.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the Grim Subsumed saunter across the floor. Arms hanging, letting them sway. Still the same mindless swagger from before.

Calypso just laughed. Maybe she had changed, in comparison.

“Now… Hurry up and kill me already…” Calypso grunted. “I need this to work…”