“Memories hold a great deal of power. Do not underestimate yours—or your enemies.”
~Psionic Master Melina of the College of War Magics
“Hmm, so that’s how you got in possession of all your advantages.” A raspy voice said in the darkness between Devin's thoughts. “A chance at the Progenitor title as well. You certainly have heavenly luck. Unfortunately, you happened to meet me.” It said, an insidious smile clear on its face despite Devin not being able to see anything.
“Who…Are…You?” Devin strained to form basic words in the darkness that sought to suppress him and lull him back to submissive unconsciousness.
“You’re still coherent?” The raspy voice asked. “Impressive, but go back to sleep.” The words pressed into his mind. His consciousness was whisked away by another memory.
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Warning! Your soul is eroding!
Choose your archetype!
Furor
Disciple
Tamer
Soulsmith
A hard slap smacked into his face. Devin took the strike wordlessly, not daring to show his face to his mother.
“I ought to smack you again.” Mrs.Carter said, readjusting her ring. “You missed the bus, and now you want me to take you to school. Nu-uh, walk for all I care; I’m not wasting my gas on you.” The skinny woman huffed, plopping down on the couch to watch daytime television.
She would rather watch the next episode of pregnancy tests and lie detectors than take fifteen minutes out of her day to take me to school. He thought to himself, already knowing the consequences of thinking out loud. Devin’s eyes welled up into tears, but he didn’t make a sound until he was out of the house.
Only then did he dare to even sniffle.
Bainbridge wasn’t a big town, but by no means was it small either. Walking from his house would probably take a little more than a couple of hours. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to confront the neighborhood bad kids instead of letting them ride by his house with his bike.
He roared out a tiny scream and rammed his 11-year-old body into the older boy on the bike.
“What the hell? Get off my bike, you stinky freak.” The older boy yelled in disgust, slamming his foot into Devin’s face.
He saw stars for a moment, then became even more dazed when the boy's friends jumped in and started wailing at him. Despite all the abuse, Devin clung to his bike in desperation.
It was only thanks to one of the neighbours walking onto the scene that he was still alive.
“Hey!” His neighbor yelled at the boys, who took their bikes and escaped the first chance they got. The older boy kicked Devin's chin like it was a soccer ball, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up in a hospital room.
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What? What happened?
His older sister was hovering over him, speaking gibberish while his mom nervously sat in the corner, her hand locked in a cigarette-hold despite lacking one.
“Are you awake, son?” Someone in a suit said. She carried a briefcase and was shadowed by a menacing officer. “I just have a couple of questions to ask you.”
“I just wanted my bike back.” Devin said defensively.
“It's okay, son. Those boys will be handled.” The woman in a suit pulled up a chair to sit next time. She took a couple papers from her briefcase, and held her pen at the ready. “I just have a couple questions to ask you about your home life.”
The question rang like gunfire in Devin’s ears. His eyes shot towards his mom, who glowered back. “Oh.”
That was the last time he ever saw his family again. Devin didn’t even have a moment to mourn until another memory pulled at him, and he was whisked away even deeper into his psyche.
Warning! Soul Damage is accumulating!
Hurry! Make your Choice!
Disciple
Tamer
Soulsmith
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The beaming rays of sunlight filtering through Devin’s blinds were the first sign in his sleepy mind that something was wrong. He clung to blissful sleep despite knowing he should probably wake up. An empty pit gnawed at him, and he did anything he could to look away.
The smell of bacon made him open his eyes.
“Aww, geez. I’m gonna miss the bus!” He yelled in a childish voice. Devin threw his feet to the floor, jumping into random clothes on the ground.
He busted open the door to his room with his book bag over his shoulder and his pants dropping below his waist. He was down the stairs and almost out the door when a voice stopped him.
“Where are you going, mister? There’s no school on the weekend.” His mom yelled from the kitchen, a soft hum in her voice.
“... Mom?” Devin called out to her. Dread radiated from the left, so much so that Devin didn’t dare look in that direction. “Is everything all right?’
“Yes, dear?” She asked from the kitchen in the back, not bothering to turn the corner to look at him. “Can you call your father for breakfast? He should be in his chair sleeping.”
Warning! Soul Dissolution commencing!
Resolve yourself!
Tamer
Soulsmith
Devin’s heart thumped in his chest like a rock sinking to the bottom of a well. He couldn’t do this; the memory flickered as Devin refused to go through this again.
“A little mouse thinks he can stop me? I’ll show you how to know your place.” A familiar raspy voice reverberated around Devin. He screamed as black energy stabbed into his mind through the very base of his existence to inebriate him even further.
As abruptly as it came, the shaky reality disappeared, as did the painful black energy.
Devin was left hyperventilating, not knowing what to do. The dread exuded from the living room paralyzed him, but the fear of pain on a level he never wanted to experience put his feet into gear.
The little boy ignored the shadows in the living room that loomed over him. He let the moment continue, forcing himself to relive that awful memory.
“Dad?” The words flowed unbidden from his mouth. Panic gripped his tiny heart when he felt how cold his skin was. “Daddy?” He tugged on his father's arm, getting a look at him from the front.
He screamed at the sight before him.
Warning! Soul Decay underway!
Stop being a fool and choose!
Soulsmith
His father’s skin was gray, and his chest was unmoving. His glasses were thrown off his face as his hand still gripped a fistful of cloth from his shirt, looking like he died from a heart attack. His eyes were rolled behind his eyelids, appearing so different than they did just a day earlier.
Mrs.Carter ran into the living room, gasping at the sight of her husband dead in the loveseat he spent all his time in. She fell to the floor screaming hysterically. Isabella came in soon after, wearing a hard frown at the sight of her frozen brother and frantic mother. She tried to pull her little brother away from her father’s dead body, but Mrs.Carter snatched Devin’s wrist.
“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! You KILLED him. YOU KILLED YOUR FATHER!” Her nails gouged long lines of blood on his wrist, literally painting his hand with blood as he snatched his hand away and ran out the door into an infinite night.
He ran. Like a coward, he ran.
Darkness encroached as he left his dad for the last time—as he himself was left all alone. Soon, all he could see was a white dot on the horizon of infinite black—just him and the endless, overwhelming, soul-crushing gloom.
I shouldn’t even be alive. He thought, curling into a ball as if huddling himself for safety. I should’ve died a long time ago.
“That’s it, go to sleep. Now and forever.” The raspy voice from close by, almost whispering into Devin’s ear.
The voice was right. Living is hard. There was no point in going on. He might as well enjoy the peace of eternal sleep rather than subject himself to the pain of reality.
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