The Empty Mirror

Chapter 62: Paper Flowers

In the intricate web of destinies and theories, a masterful plan was being forged by the capacity of the "Hunger on Trial" choker. Through its voracious appetite, it devoured the biological tissue of the insect's gravid bellies, unleashing a degeneration that corrupted the genetic material of these grotesque creatures. Enshrouded in the veil of decadent spirit, this corruption transmuted into a secretion or pheromone, as if the obese insects themselves had excreted it, emitting a sinister hunger signal that beckoned the specimens to devour eagerly, like a horde of famished beggars. But for this distress signal to be propagated, it required an intermediary: the "Two of Wands" staff. Thus, the choker, in its sinister blasphemy, infected the staff and the monkey's paw with the secretion, turning them into a sort of antenna that broadcasted the signal of desperation. Among the wounds of the monkey's paw, amidst the sanguineous hemorrhage, oozed a substance of a subtle hue, a pale or translucent yellow, with a texture akin to light oil or aqueous liquid, with barely perceptible viscosity, allowing it to disperse easily in the environment, being detected by other individuals of the same degenerate ilk.

In the surge of my onslaught, I found myself facing that vegetal tangle, a thicket of herbs with a blend of yellow and green hues suggesting unease in nature. Though I trusted that the insects wouldn't attack me until that plant was eradicated, my confidence was fragile. At this moment, I couldn't afford to dwell on it; I had to focus on the task at hand. If it was completed, then I would consider my options, though I already glimpsed potential failures on the horizon. I placed my faith in my champion, that swarm of giant insects destined to annihilate my opponent, but the certainty of their success eluded me. Furthermore, they could turn against me at any moment once the plant was defeated, akin to trusting a boxer knowing they'll beat you afterwards. Put politely, these spawn, once the distress signal and secretion were unleashed, darted towards the nearest and most substantial mass for sustenance, devouring ceaselessly. They seemed insatiable, but I knew that, in time, the pheromone would lose its effect, fading into the ether and leaving its prey vulnerable. Time, as always, would be their executioner; for everything, eventually, succumbs to its relentless march.

Let's call it what we will: secretion, save our souls, pheromone; they are convenient terms, but they are nothing but the manifestation of the voracity of "Hunger on Trial", corrupting the creatures of the Hanging Gardens through the "Two of Wands" staff. However, in that crucial moment, all my plans, expectations, and experiences seemed to fade into the abyss of hell. Despite the "Creeper" being considerably superior to the grotesque insects, it couldn't find an escape or turn the tide of the battle. As more and more insects were born and converged on that vomit mass, between us, amidst that spectacle of horror, I watched in terror as if the vine was fixing its gaze on my soul. Although, in fact, the vine lacked eyes on its face, and I, in any case, lacked a soul. Nevertheless, it did something that defied my expectations: instead of trying to annihilate me, reduce me to decomposed flesh, amidst the fray, with anger and cowardice, it unfolded to kill me in every possible way that a sane and wandering mind could imagine. But it didn't. Instead, that herbal mass of vomit began to expand, gaining more volume and dismembering the insects in its corpulent interior, almost engulfing me in its verdure. It was then, at that precise moment, that my second sequence of events unleashed my unrestrained plan. I grasped the staff firmly and, like in a bold feint, invoked "Hunger on Trial".

I directed the course of the "Carnal Corruption" assault with a precise gesture, slightly extending my elbow into a clenched fist before opening it with the precision of a master craftsman. However, the onslaught didn't target the "Creeper"; I directed it towards the swarm of insects lying being devoured at the foot of the vine. It seemed as if the "Creeper" itself had succumbed to the relentless corruption of the choker, as the insects surrounding it began to undergo grotesque mutations. Their bodies swelled and expanded, their exoskeletons and rotten flesh morphing into a spectacle of corporeal horror. They amalgamated into an amorphous mass, attempting to adhere to the vine and thereby induce the "Creeper" into mutation. I, hungering, watched as the vegetal mass began to transform, its drained and mutilated vegetal structure intermingling with human flesh, creating a repugnant amalgam. Branches resembled bones, clots akin to black tar pulsated with dark, viscous blood. The entity swelled and contorted, in an aberrant fusion between nature and humanity, in a whirlwind of deformed horror. Amidst triumphant groans, I thought I had secured victory, but I made a grave mistake in underestimating the "Creeper's" countermeasures, which seemed to defy my hubris with a defiant "Catch me if you can," as if I myself had issued that challenge.

The ivy, the "Creeper," unleashed its roots like tendrils from its anatomy, piercing the earth with the determination of a drill in search of its salvation. But already its physical form had been corrupted by the cursed influence of the choker, leaving it only the fate of being consumed by the "Devourer of Souls". This was the final piece on the board of doom, what was about to happen, even if it meant exposing myself to the curses of "Hunger on Trial". However, before I could even consider it, the earth began to shake with a fury that defied gravity itself. Beneath my feet, the ground cracked, shaking the monument with a ferocity that made the columns waver like toys in the hands of a furious giant. The deafening roar of the earth fracturing filled the air as I struggled to maintain balance amidst the unleashed chaos. The sky seemed to sway and the plants of the Hanging Gardens quivered, their roots desperately clinging to the earth slipping beneath them. It was a ballet of destruction and disorder, and I found myself trapped in the epicenter, a powerless witness to the fury of nature in its purest and most terrifying form.

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The "Creeper" had clung to the centre of the Hanging Gardens monument, coiling around the structure itself in desperation as it battled against the mutation unleashed by the "Carnal Corruption" attack. Amidst its agony, it tangled itself in the monument's entrails, trying to escape the insatiable corruption of hunger consuming it. However, its hive mind prevented it from fleeing into the depths of the Hanging Gardens. The restriction imposed by "Hunger on Trial" kept it bound, unable to dissipate to preserve a part of its original form. Like a viscous and repulsive vomit, the "Creeper" adhered to the monument, while its biology distorted, merging with the flesh and fat of the giant insects writhing around it in agony. The plant transformed into a nauseating blend of flesh and leaves, and its final display of resilience triggered the earthquake that brought all of Hanging Gardens crashing down in a horrifying cataclysm. Although I have no doubt the plant attempted to conspire around my investigation, the corruption caused by the staff and the choker prevented it from taking action against my deeds. In a last desperate attempt, it tried to fight back to counteract the curse of "Hunger on Trial", but it was in vain. Even giants fall prey to hunger.

But the tragedy did not end there. Amidst the collapse of the colossal structure of Hanging Gardens, with debris falling in the form of huge stone blocks from the upper terraces, I feared being crushed and reduced to a shapeless mass of fat and skin in a moment of desolation. In the midst of chaos, I dared not even glance up at the twilight sky looming above us, hidden amidst the mist and disorder caused by the mutation of the "Creeper". I resorted to the last resort of salvation, invoked the "Devourer of Souls" in a desperate attempt to gain advantage. I guided the attack with my hands slightly extended from the elbow, fingers intertwined, as if I were grasping an invisible energy between them. I managed to snatch the soul of the "Creeper", or whatever its life essence was if indeed it lacked a soul. The attack took effect and the plant began to wither, acquiring a brown hue before fading into the air. The insects and the pheromone also dissolved into the ether. I, hungering, felt a voracious desire to tear my cheeks from inside my mouth to devour them. And when everything seemed to have come to an end, the earthquake seemed relentless. However, as if the mother structure of Hanging Gardens had vanished, the terraces began to fall, fracturing and piling on top of each other like grimaces on accursed ground. It was the inevitable collapse following the death of the "Creeper", the support that held the Hanging Gardens structure together crumbled, and with it, everything else.

Amidst the chaotic tumult, still not fully conscious of the whirlwind surrounding me, I leaned on the staff, weary and hungry, like one driving a spade into a graveyard. The staff, in response, unleashed a series of wondrous events. A tingling sensation invaded my hands as I raised one of them and watched in astonishment as green grass leaves sprouted from my palm, still holding the staff with the other hand. Between my fingers, a verdant moss began to come to life, as if nature itself were reclaiming my skin. As I caressed the stems with my hands, I experienced a singular and enigmatic sensation, as if a tree of life were sprouting from my own hand, its branches and roots extending like the blood vessels of a life-giving placenta. Meanwhile, the staff convulsed, as if performing a delirious choreography. The monkey's paw rose gracefully, the fingers extended elegantly while the palm remained open and flat. The thumb bent inward, gently meeting the base of the index and middle fingers, creating a shape reminiscent of a deer's head, conveying a sense of calm and concentration, like the claw of a demon or the horns of an Oni.

The monkey's paw, at that moment, traced three lines across my forehead, like a seal of devotion, like a severe austerity carved in excrement, reflecting before the women, the fear, the discord, the call to the beloved, the opportunity, the order, or the self; such were the nuances that gesture embodied. Then, as if rooted in the very earth itself, the staff began its dance of blooming and withering in a perpetual state, in a cycle of doom. The paw, still holding firm in its intentions, remained steadfast, like a shovel digging a grave for its deceased. At that precise moment, as the terraces began to collapse onto one another, they sharply parted ways, with a dry snap, and started to move away from each other, forming a sequence reminiscent of a staircase, where the mounds of earth separated like continents after an earthquake. The mounds seemed to float, even the one I occupied began to rise, as if suspended in the ether, in the skies. The monument known as Hanging Gardens was undergoing a transformation, a mutation and corruption of its ancient dermis and nature. It was a metamorphosis that abandoned the concept of gardens protruding, moving away from the interpretation of an impious monument distant from our reality, to be reborn with a new concept of eternal return, Hanging Gardens of the imagination.

In the dawn of wonder, the earth, cradled by the terraces, rose suspended in the ether, under the influence of the "Two of Wands" staff. I, humble, prostrate before the earth, could barely believe what was happening around me. The terraces, once lying like stars in the firmament, amidst marble debris and non-Euclidean architecture, now stood as mounds of barren land, swaying like pendulums. But then, amidst truncated expectations, the terraces began to resurge with vitality. The plants and flowers, once hidden, began to sprout, turning the sterility of Hanging Gardens into lush greenery, a garden of fertile soil suspended in the air. Grass and herbs flourished in a sea of green, between the terraces and the marble, the vegetation rose majestically. They now appeared as small floating islands in the sky.

The first metamorphosis, triggered by the "Two of Wands," halted the earthquake and separated the gardens, swaying them like seesaws. The second transformation caused the vegetation to bloom, despite the monsters still lurking among nature, like demons in the shadows. But even halfway exorcised, the final and third act was unleashed. My nose bled, a sequence of scarlet blood, as the staff throbbed like a heart on the monkey's paw. And then, with a roar, like the roar of a wave breaking against the bow of a ship, a sequence of bulbous and colossal stems emerged between each garden, intertwining with each other, like clear paths ascending towards the summit of Hanging Gardens. These stems, like scaly snakes, twisted, releasing their will in an unrestrained festivity.