I quit my job citing “personal issues” as the reason. It was common for people who picked up mutilate corpses to suffer mental trauma after a while so a high rate of resignation for that line of work wasn’t unheard of.
With that taken care of, I had to actually produce something of substance when the time for me to get evaluated came around.
I climbed to my bed and sat cross-legged before closing my eyes and attempting to enter a meditative state. The key seemed to be mental focus and since I had little to distract me, I managed to achieve it pretty quickly.
I saved Bone Restructure for last since it sounded agonizing. I was even a bit scared to go through with it, but I knew I would have to eventually.
Due to my eagerness to learn how to fight, I concentrated on Penelope’s Dance and felt as my body was being moved away.
…
Before I knew it, I stood in a dark space. I believed I was alone until I could hear the faintest set of footsteps approaching.
And then, a light shone down like a spotlight, illuminating a young woman in dark robes with a war scythe that towered over her. The hood of the robe obscured her pale face but I didn’t need to see her face to make a guess as to who she was. No, the upright shape of the blade attached to the twisted branch-like staff told me all I needed to know.
“Penelope?” I spoke aloud but she didn’t respond to me.
I nearly forgot this was memory so it made sense for her not to react to me. I silently watched as she lifted her war scythe with ease and began to rotate it. As she did so, she moved forward, spinning on either the tips of her feet or her heels when she needed to. All the while she continued to spin the war scythe in sync with her footwork, creating a hypnotic rhythm.
I understood why it was called Penelope’s Dance at that moment. The way she moved was seemed as graceful as ballet or ballroom dancing. There was no delay, just a continuous and fluid rotation.
And since I had to learn it, it seemed even more daunting. Just as I thought that Penelope’s Dance was difficult enough, runes etched into the blade of the war scythe began glowing and she began moving even faster. The war scythe twirled in her hands like a blur and I could hear the sound of it cutting through the air. When her dance neared its end, her war scythe came to a thunderous halt that jolted me awake.
***
My head briefly ached as a set of moves ingrained themselves into my memory. I felt that I had, through no effort of my own, memorized the entirety of Penelope’s Dance. Or, at least, as much as she showed me. Of course, that didn’t mean I could do it properly and I wasn’t arrogant enough to say I was able to do so. If I had to describe the sensation, it felt like I had memorized a blueprint but didn’t have any knowledge of building. Really, I couldn’t even be called a novice since I had no experience at all.
What I did understand, without the need for memories to explain it to me, was that Penelope’s Dance relied on momentum. The footwork seemed to be necessary to move forward and or avoid attacks while maintaining the speed of the war scythe rotations.
I wanted to practice it if I could, but I knew I would need to do a few other things before that. I calmed my mind once again and focused on the knowledge of rune inscription. At once, the foreign alphabet that filled the book appeared in mind except it made more sense this time. I had learned the basics of another language in one day. Or rather, the basics had been implanted into my mind with a searing sensation. I grit my teeth and held my forehead as the pain made my consciousness feel foggy.
“...It’s probably better than what comes next,” I muttered.
The concept of being broken and remade may have appealed to anyone with masochistic tendencies but unfortunately, I was quite normal when it came to pain tolerance. The only time I could ignore it was during the times I was compelled to stare at corpses, which I will note, had vanished when I stopped taking my medication.
That meant whatever grim experience came with “Bone Restructure” I would have to experience fully aware.
I tried to ignore it, after all, there was a saying about bridge crossings and not worrying until you were there. Actually, if I think about it, that was something very irresponsible to say. I got out of my bed and started to make preparations.
First, I turned my tv up to the highest possible volume and pressed a few buttons on the remote. I set it up so that the loudest song I could find, one filled with violent screaming, was set to play on a loop.
Most of my neighbors were likely to be at work but there would be a few who were still around. I think that causing them some brief annoyance would be better than having to explain to the cops why I was screaming like someone was attempting to murder me. I just hoped they could bear with me for a little bit and not call the cops anyway. At most, I was likely to receive a complaint which I could deal with.
Next, I began filling the bathtub with water but not too high as I didn’t want to drown to death. I’m not sure if my experience would bring blood with it, but I didn’t want to find out.
I felt enough preparations were made so I stripped off my clothes and climbed in before lying down completely. I was sure that no matter how much I writhed around, I wouldn’t end up drowning.
So without waiting any longer, I focused on Bone Restructure. I closed my eyes, expecting pain to come flooding in but after a few minutes, I felt it was taking too long.
“Do I have to say it aloud-” I stopped speaking when the taste of blood filled my mouth.
I maneuvered my tongue around out of curiosity and felt something being dislodged. The horrifying realization came soon after, and I shouldn’t look any further, but I did. I opened my mouth and spat into my hand to see a few of my teeth in my palm.
My breathing grew unsteady but I didn’t scream. Against my own feelings, I continued to move my tongue around the inside of my mouth, knocking out every single tooth. I spat them into the tub and before I could do anything else, my arm became outstretched and rigid.
I squeezed my eyes shut because it was clear what would happen next. I told myself that if I didn’t see it, then the pain would be lessened. That was simply not true as my fingers began breaking.
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A scream emerged from my mouth, hoarse and bloody. I reflexively tried to clench my teeth but that was a fruitless effort seeing as my teeth were in the tub next to me. If anything, pressing my freshly emptied gums against each other only brought me more pain.
Then, my suffering seemed to ascend toward the climax as my other hand began breaking itself apart.
My toes curled up in agony, before breaking. I kicked and twisted my legs before they began twisting back at me.
I blacked out.
The pain stirred me conscious once more and I was greeted with the sight of my arms bending the wrong way as if to rebel against me.
My shoulders dislocated themselves as if to separate themselves from the situation.
My jaw dislocated itself, finding my screams to be bothersome.
My ribs cried out excitedly, fracturing themselves apart with joy.
My legs and hips snapped to a song they only knew.
My skull seemed to find things too chaotic and cracked under the pressure.
This was hell. There was no regret as I was forced through the epitome of agony itself. I had no time to question why I had put myself through this.
And then, the climax of this journey had arrived in the form of my spine severing itself.
I wanted to cry tears of joy as the pain faded and a warm sensation had drifted over me. I don’t think I had ever been so comfortable in my life than I was in that moment. I could just barely hear my bones being broken, but I was freed from the pain that accompanied it.
***
When I woke up again, it seemed like it never happened. My body felt much lighter and my mind felt clearer. If it wasn’t for the bloody water surrounding me, I would’ve thought that I imagined all of that pain before.
“Shit,” I cursed as I let the water drain out only to discover my teeth remaining. I scooped them up into my hands and turned the shower knobs, washing the rest of the reddish water off of me.
I soon climbed out of the bathtub with a handful of teeth and tossed them into the trash. I walked to the nearest towel and found my steps were off.
“The hell?” I looked at my feet and felt something wasn’t right. I covered myself in a towel and looked into the mirror only to recoil in shock.
“Who the fuck are you?!” I shouted at myself.
No, that couldn’t be me. For one, I was only 179cm if I recalled correctly but the current me was, much taller. I now stood at around 185cm.
“And my face!” I softly rubbed my sharpened jaw before my hands glided over my newly pronounced cheekbones.
I didn’t look like this, no, I was- or, used to be, plain. But now, well, I couldn’t say I would cause traffic accidents with my looks alone but I was quite the sight.
I narrowed my eyes and chuckled mischievously as I continued poking at my new face.
“Nice to meet you, Casper,” I greeted myself, repeatedly raising my eyebrows.
Wasn’t this great? Now, I wouldn’t look like a creep when I stared at corpses.
No, I would still seem weird but at least the creepy factor would be lessened with a face like this.
“Hold on.” I rotated my shoulders a few times and found my resting posture was, well, great.
After a while, my feelings of excitement died down. People having their appearance altered by their gifts wasn’t uncommon at all. There was already a few Gifted on the level of supermodels roaming this earth after all. Not only would their looks change, but their hair and eye color would also change, making them even more unique.
“Oh well.” Though it wasn’t my goal, I was happy with the result.
I strolled into the living room and turned off the tv after realizing the music had been playing all this time.
When silence returned to my apartment, the sound of someone violently banging on my door filled my ears.
“Open up! I know you’re in there! You open this fucking door right now!” I heard a woman shout at me from beyond my door.
“...Damn it.” I wanted to get dressed but then I suddenly though that if I arrived in a towel the angry individual beyond the entrance would be hesitant to attack me.
I sighed deeply before making sure the security chain was in place and then cautiously opened it.
“Uh…”
“Uh?” The middle-aged woman repeated in a mocking voice. “You want to play your music for a few minutes? Great, I don’t mind. But when you play the same fucking song over and over for two hours straight we all start to get a little bothered.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I-”
“Wait, who?!” She pushed against my door while showing a scrutinizing gaze. “Who are you? Where is the owner of this place?”
“I-It’s me, Casper.”
“No, it can’t be...and why are you hiding? What did you do to the man who lived here?!” The woman understandably began to get more than a little suspicious.
If I were in her place, I’d think that the music was used to cover up a murder.
“It’s me, really. It’s just that I…” I fumbled for something to say until it hit me, “I’ve awoken to a gift!”
“Ah! Really?!” The woman’s expression changed considerably. “Oh, then please excuse me for my behavior.”
“No, it’s uh, no problem. I just, it was a rather painful awakening.”
“Oh, okay, I get it. You just didn’t want to disturb us, is that it?” Her tone had softened and her personality had taken a 180-degree turn.
“Yeah, something like that.” I laughed dryly and she laughed along with me.
There was nothing particularly humorous and yet, here we were laughing. It was scary how natural this woman’s laugh sounded though.
“Well, I should go back inside-”
“You know…” She cut me off before I could finish.
I understood now, this was the status of gifted individuals to normal people. Even the weakest of the Gifted had to be treated with a little respect. Of course, it wasn’t as anyone with a gift could do as they pleased. The government was always eager to “punish” disruptive and weaker Gifted with mandatory service. The ones who were stronger were allowed a bit more wiggle room. There were a few who had quite a lot of scandals under their belt but that affected the prestige of their guild more than anything else.
“I have a friend who has a nephew who has a gift. She’s always bragging about this and that when he hardly ever speaks to her.”
“Uh-huh,” I nodded, hoping that she would understand I didn’t have any interest in continuing a conversation with her.
“I mean honestly, she’s out flaunting someone else’s status. I can’t wait to see the look her on her face when I tell her that we have a tenant in our building who’s a Gifted.”
“I’m sure she’ll be surprised,” I forced a smile and tried to shut my door but she pushed her foot into the doorway to stop me.
“I could set a meeting between you two. You and her nephew, I mean.”
“Hm?” She caught my attention with those words so I humored her a bit, “How would that benefit you?”
I was a bit straight to the point but I wanted to know what she wanted out of it.
“Nothing, I just want to see the face that bitch- excuse me, that woman makes when she has nothing left to flaunt.”
“I see, well, just let me know the date and I'll-”
“Next week! A group of us always meet up at the start of every week. I’ll leave a note in your mailbox with the address.”
“Great.” I smiled and slowly shut the door.
I was relieved when she didn’t stop it from closing this time.
“Phew,” I exhaled before going to grab a snack from the pantry. The exhaustion and hunger had finally set in and I was eager to rest.
I still had a few days to register so I put it off until tomorrow and decided to rest.