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Pain. Faint and distant, like a memory surfacing from the depths of a dark ocean.
Was I even alive?
Darkness surrounded me, thick and suffocating, holding me in a cold embrace. My mind floated, weightless, grasping at nothing—no thoughts, no memories – just an endless void. I had no sense of how long I'd been trapped in this eternal darkness.
Am I dead? Is this what death feels like?
A faint, indistinct voice whispered at the edges of my consciousness. I couldn't make out the words, but the meaning was clear and persistent.
Let go, Sleep eternal. Let go.
My weak and fragile mind clung to that thought like a lifeline. I wanted to surrender, to slip into the darkness where there was no pain, fear, or struggle. But a heaviness in my chest pulled me back. Something was wrong. A sensation, faint but growing, gnawed at my awareness. The pain wasn't gone; it lurked beneath the surface, creeping into the edges of my mind.
The pain was growing, and so was the voice. Faint as it was, it dragged me out of the void toward something worse than the darkness. I felt it again, sharper this time – something wet and hot, moving inside me, tearing.
Tearing at me. What...? My thoughts were sluggish, murmurs in the depths of my skull. I couldn't think, couldn't remember—only feel the growing ache in my belly.
There was a tug, a sharp pull – flesh being torn, something wet and warm pooling around me.
A grotesque slurping noise, something wet and thick, chewing.
The fog in my mind lifted, but I wished it hadn't. I wanted to sink back into that comforting darkness, away from the realization that something terrible was happening.
Slowly, painfully, I forced my eyes open. The darkness parted, replaced by a blur of shifting shadows and dim light. My vision was swimming, shapes moving in and out of focus. I blinked, fighting against the heaviness that made my eyelids feel like lead. Bit by bit, the world sharpened around me, and I began to see.
That's when I saw it.
The sound hit me first, much louder now–the sickening, wet tearing of flesh, the low, guttural slurping of something feeding.
I felt it before I saw it: a gnawing sensation deep in my gut, like something was inside me, biting, chewing.
My eyes drifted down, and I froze.
‘ Crunch, slurp ‘
An abomination crouched over me, its massive, grotesque form hunched low as it tore into my abdomen with ravenous hunger. Its dark, mottled skin clung tightly to an emaciated frame like a withered corpse refusing to rot. Its face... gods, its face was a twisted nightmare–a fusion of jagged bones and leathery skin stretched over a maw dripping with blood–my blood.
I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened, and my heart stuttered in its weak, irregular rhythm. The creature was feasting on me, its claws buried deep in my torn flesh, pulling at the shredded remains of my innards. Each pull sent another wave of cold, burning agony through my body, but I was too weak to scream. Too weak to fight as I heard the sweet voice again faint..but there.
The sweet voice whispered again, faint but present—Why fight? Let go and sleep peacefully.
Horrified, I watched as the monster's jaws clamped down, teeth sinking into the soft meat of my exposed stomach, ripping free another chunk. With each wave of pain, the voice grew fainter.
The sensation of being eaten alive should have been unbearable, but there was only a dull, distant throb. My body was too broken, too shattered to process the full extent of the pain. I felt disconnected, like I was watching from somewhere far away, trapped in a nightmare that wouldn't end.
As I started regaining my senses the smell hit me next, iron and bile, thick in the air, mingling with the stench of decay. I could taste it in the back of my throat, the rancid odor of death and rot, mingled with the coppery tang of my own blood. I wanted to gag, but I couldn’t even manage that. My body refused to obey, paralyzed by fear and weakness.
The monster's head lifted slightly, jaws still working, chewing on the flesh it had torn from me. It turned its eyes toward me, and my blood ran colder. Its eyes were dirty yellowish, locked onto mine. There was no intelligence, no glimmer of sentience–just raw, primal hunger.
I didn't exist to it beyond the sustenance my body provided. I was meat. Nothing more. My breath caught in my throat, each shallow gasp filled with terror, the crushing realization that I was dying. No, worse–I was being eaten alive, piece by piece, and there was nothing I could do.
My mind urged me to move, to fight, but my limbs were leaden, numb. I couldn't feel my legs, couldn't lift my arms. I was trapped, helpless, watching as this thing devoured me. I tried to cry out, but only a weak, gurgling breath escaped, wet and feeble. Blood filled my throat, choking me. I coughed or tried to–but the effort sent another jolt of agony through me, something tearing loose inside.
The monster didn't care. It kept feeding, oblivious to my suffering. I could hear it now–the crunch of bone, the wet tearing of muscle and sinew. The pain grew stronger, more real with each passing second. The numbness was slipping away, exposing me to the full horror of what was happening.
I was dying. Slowly. Painfully. Maybe I should let go...
Just let go.
The thought whispered through the cracks of my consciousness, slithering into the growing void inside me. It felt easy, right–to sink into the darkness, to drift where there was no pain. The numbness had dulled the sharp edges of agony. All that was left was a soft, comforting void.
But even as that thought consumed me, something else stirred. A flicker, a faint flash–like a dying ember in the cold night. It danced at the edges of my mind, just beyond reach.
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Then it hit me–a memory, sharp and vivid.
A boy, no older than a teenager, stood before me. His face pale, streaked with blood and dirt, chest heaving with ragged breaths. He was terrified. His wide eyes, filled with desperation, stared into mine. I felt his fear as if it were my own, a sickening knot twisting in my gut. And then–
Pierced.
The boy's chest exploded, a dark bony monstrous hand plunging through his ribcage. Claws wrapped around his heart, still beating frantically like a caged animal. Blood gushed, splattering the ground. His lips parted in a silent cry. His terrified eyes dulled, losing the light of life in a heartbeat. His body crumpled like a broken doll as the monster yanked its hand free, holding the heart aloft like a twisted prize.
No!
The darkness pulsed, alive with the weight of that memory, that grief. My chest tightened, my lungs burning as if I'd been pierced by the same monstrous hand. The vision faded, but the feeling of loss remained, sinking its claws into me, refusing to let go.
I knew that boy. I knew him. But... who was he?
I wanted to cry out, but my body wouldn't obey. The monster still tore into me, claws digging deeper, teeth gnashing through my insides, but the pain seemed distant now. All I felt was the crushing weight of the memory. My mind spun, unraveling, grasping for something–anything–that could explain why his death struck me so deeply, why my heart felt like it was shattering.
Why?
The word echoed through the hollow spaces of my mind, unanswered. Who was he? Why did his death tear at me like this? I felt the grief–raw and unrelenting–threatening to swallow me whole. It was like a dagger twisting in my chest, a wound that would never heal.
Why am I crying for him?
The question surged through my thoughts, drowning out the seductive voice urging me to surrender. I couldn't let go. Not now. Not yet. There was something I needed to remember, something vital my heart clung to with its final beats. The voice urging me to let go was wrong. I couldn't–not until I understood.
His death... it meant something. And that unbearable weight in my chest wasn't just grief–it was guilt. The kind that eats away at your soul, leaving nothing but hollow remnants. My heart felt torn apart from the inside, each beat filled with agony worse than the monster feasting on my flesh.
The image of his lifeless body burned behind my eyes, the monster's hand gripping his heart like a trophy. I could see his face, pale and bloodless, frozen in terror. I could hear his silent cry, echoing in my ears, tearing through the void around me.
Who was he?
The question pounded in my skull, louder, demanding an answer. But the memory was slipping away, dissolving like mist, leaving only fragments–his face, the claws, the blood-soaked ground. I tried to hold on, but the details blurred, darkness creeping at the edges of my vision.
No. I have to remember. I have to.
The voice in my mind–the one urging me to let go–was still there, but different now. Softer, sweeter, trying to comfort me.
It's better to let go... to sleep... it whispered. You don't need to remember. You don't need to feel this pain. Just let go, and it will all end...
I clenched my teeth, the taste of blood filling my mouth. No. I wouldn't let go. Not until I understood why his death meant so much to me. My heart pounded with frantic urgency, each thud a desperate cry for life. It felt like it would burst from my chest, but I didn't care. The pain was real now, sharp and burning, and I welcomed it. It meant I was still alive.
I cried out in my mind, raw with desperation, fighting against the pull of the void. I needed to know why my heart was so heavy, why his death tore me apart.
Why? I demanded, the word burning in my thoughts, a plea that seemed to shake my very soul. Who was he? Why did it hurt so much?
My heart thundered, each beat sending waves of heat and anger through me. I felt it building–a rage born from grief, from confusion, from the unbearable weight of loss. It clawed up from the depths, consuming everything in its path.
Fragments of memory flickered–faces, names, flashes of light and shadow. Mom... Aria... Aunt Nora... Each sent a jolt through me, but they weren't enough. I needed more. I needed to remember everything. My heart pounded faster, refusing to give in. The monster's gnashing teeth, the blood-soaked ground, the boy's lifeless body–they swirled in my mind, a whirlwind of pain and anger.
Who am I?
I cried out again, louder, a silent scream that echoed through the void, drowning out the lulling voice urging me to let go. Mom... Ari... Ed... Edward...
Edward.
The name struck me like lightning, sharp and painful, searing through the fog. Edward–my childhood friend. His face flashed before me, vivid and clear, as if he stood right there. I saw him laughing, messy hair falling into his eyes, that mischievous grin. And then... blood. His chest was torn open, a monstrous hand gripping his heart before ripping it free. I had watched him die. Watched the light leave his eyes, just like the boy in my memory.
My body trembled, a shiver running from fingertips to core, as the weight of grief and loss tried to crush me. My heart–no longer weak, no longer fading–beat against my ribs like a war drum, louder and faster, reminding me I was still alive. But with every beat, the pain intensified–not from the monster gnawing at my flesh, but deeper, primal, and raw. The pain of loss, of grief long ignored.
As that grief built, so did something else. It swelled within me, a powerful presence refusing to be silenced.
The memory of Edward's death shattered, falling away like broken glass. In its place, a new memory surged forward, burning bright.
The sky... shattering.
I could see it so clearly now like I was living it all over again. The world above me cracked, the sky itself splitting apart like fragile glass, and beyond it… an eye. A titanic, monstrous eye, so vast that it seemed to swallow the heavens. It peered down at me, unblinking, its gaze freezing everything in its path. The air grew heavy, the ground trembled, and the world itself seemed to hold its breath under the weight of that gaze..
It wasn’t just a look, it was a judgment, an all-consuming stare that pierced through flesh and bone, straight to the core of my being. But along with the terror came a name.
Alexis.
My name.
Alexis Artoria Drakesier.
The moment I remembered, it was like floodgates opened. Memories rushed in—scenes of my life, fragments of people I knew, places I'd been, moments of joy and sorrow. Faces swirled, and voices echoed. Mom... Ari... Aunt Nora... Edward... Alice.
Edward is dead.
And I couldn't do anything.
The weight crushed me, pressing on my chest, and making it hard to breathe. Death. Grief. It surrounded me, suffocating, chaining me. The pain was unbearable, and for a moment, I wanted to collapse under it.
But then something changed–a seething hatred rose from the ashes of my pain. The sorrow, the helplessness–it twisted into rage, black and violent, bubbling up from the depths of my soul. It surged through me, a tidal wave of fury so intense it felt like I'd explode.
I locked eyes with the monster still tearing into my flesh, its face smeared with my blood, eyes dark and hollow. No thought in its gaze, no malice–just hunger. It didn't care who I was or what I'd lost. I was meat. Nothing more.
But I was more.
Something inside me snapped. A raw, primal roar tore from my throat. It wasn't just pain–it was rage, hatred, defiance. The power building inside me surged to the surface, too strong to contain. I felt it pouring out, spreading through my veins like fire, consuming everything.
The world around me trembled. The air crackled with energy, heavy and suffocating as if reality itself bent under the weight of my fury. The monster froze, claws still buried in me, its hollow eyes locking onto mine. It sensed the change, the power building around me. For the first time, I saw hesitation flicker across its grotesque face.
But it was too late.
The rage erupted, exploding outward in a violent wave. The ground shook, and the monster was flattened by the surge, reduced to nothing but flesh and blood.
The power EXIRA as I remembered faded as quickly as it had come, leaving me drained, empty. My vision blurred, and I could feel my body collapsing, the strength leaving me as quickly as it had come. I hit the ground hard, my limbs numb, my mind spinning. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, pulling me down into the void once more.
But this time, I didn’t fight it. As the world slipped away, The last thing I thought before the darkness claimed me was their names, whispered like a prayer.
Mom… Ari… Edward…
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