It was far too dark one moment and the next my vision swam with indiscernible colours which provided me only the bare shapes of the chamber I was in. I looked down at my hands but that only intensified sensation of me being on drugs. Sometimes I saw right through it, other times they glowed. Queasiness was only intensified by the strange sensation of motion as though the building was gliding. I had to be drunk. And how the fuck did I end up here? Cultists weren’t throwing any party last I checked.

Reached out to grab onto the glossy wall nearby and found myself already holding onto it. With my spare hand. Interesting.

Since I was tripping balls, did not see a reason not to enjoy this. I will be able to panic about ending up underground under suspicious circumstances at some later date. Jumped around and twirled to a strange beat, examining the ever-changing surroundings. Tripping over my own legs and falling did not hurt. In fact, I started doubting the chamber was made out of stone at all. However, I could not pin it down. Sometimes I saw it as glossy or wet, other times translucent. Sometimes my hands glowed green too much for me to see anything. In fact, the longer this went on the less they looked like hands.

Ruby will kill me if he finds out about any of this. It’s good that he’s dead, then.

The sobering thought did nothing to change the state I was in. The high was not diminishing, at all. Perhaps something was in the air? It did smell slightly off. Perhaps I should start to begin considering to be worried.

“As entertaining as this has been, you are not inebriated,” raspy speech informed me. “Although you are flooding yourself with all sorts of chemicals.”

Startled, I looked around, seeing my demon for the first time. I have not felt him sneak up on me. For someone so rigid and bulky the creature moved awfully silently when he desired so. Wasn’t even ticking or anything - but there have been plenty of other noise to distract me.

“Oh yea? How do you explain this?” I flapped both of my left arms. A nasty suspicion was starting to creep up on me, but I held on tight to the jolly mood. Always had to fake it to make it, today was no exception! Just, considering the massive implications, it came to me far easier than usual.

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I could be dreaming. The washed out level of perception did check all the boxes. God, I wanted to touch him. Run my… three palms through that rough texture. Oh, what the hell? It was some sort of vivid delusion anyway.

I fell forward face first and gave it my best hug. It was strange not to feel low vibration from within. Like embracing hollow mannequin, especially when he was so still. Far less warm than I remember it too. Neutral temperature. It was not as pleasant as I imagined, but before I started to pull away his arms returned the gesture.

“Explain what?” he asked.

I did raise my head to gape at the dark hoodie and waved again. “A third fucking arm?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.”

My mouth hung open. So there was a third hand. As I stared, frozen in place, I started to notice another unusual happenstance. I could see into the gaping darkness of monster’s obscured face.

There was none. What’s worse, my swimming vision kept shifting and giving me more and more visuals which will feed my nightmares for the foreseeable future. Not even the skull was there. Nothing remotely human. I suppose I should have gotten some clue to what I would find when he’d bared the hollow, toothy insides of the core body. Still, the findings unsettled my stomach. That was not at all how I imagined him.

I closed my eyes and willed it all to go away. The smell, the noise, the feeling on my skin, the motion, awareness of great many moving fingers, my laboured breathing which happened somewhere far far away…

Panicked, I looked around and for a moment got the encompassing, infinite blackness again. I was blind! Before that spiralled out, my lids reopened and fed me even more grotesque sights. I saw myself. From outside. Three arms and all. But not just that. Something else was very wrong with me.

“Make me wake up,” I gripped onto the unyielding figure and attempted to shake him. Each move has shown more and more give, just like my human figure bulking up each jerk. I let go, recoiled and forced all the outside eyes to close. Looked at my three glowing arms, now all veiny with haphazardly intersecting sentient sinew that kept on climbing over itself to be more defined than the rest.

“Stop! Make this stop!” I screamed, burying my claws into forearms and ripping all that growth off like old rags. There was no blood, not red anyway. Translucent liquid covered injuries and the bones. Rest of my flesh began sliding off them. I didn’t even attempt to stop it. I wanted none of it. It disgusted me. I did not want to be this monstrous freak.

Demon’s palm caught one of mine and twined fingers together.

“Stop flailing. You can be any form you desire. Concentrate on it,” commanding growl insisted. It was comforting to hear, but for the life of me I could not follow the seemingly simple instruction. Biggest problem was, I did not want to be any form. I did not want to be here.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I asked of a presence I almost wanted to call a friend. Illogical, really, but even now he didn’t feel purposefully malicious.

“I am not doing a thing. This is all you,” he told me coldly and I lost scraps of the form I was still holding. He then forced me back together. No, not that. He kept me how I was from spilling any further. I felt like water trying to climb out of the bowl. Kept all my eyes shut tight if I still had any. Refused to see the actual visuals of that.

Somehow I was aware there being insanely huge body of water very close to skin and I desired with all my might to spill into it. Dissolve. Vanish.

“Stop that!” I heard, felt, smelled the roar. Every receptor lit up with pain and half of my sensations disappeared like lights going out. The little puddle that was me who was forbidden from going outside to play, curled into itself and trembled.