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6.5 - Legacy Part 1
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The face of a young boy swelled in her vision, their bulbous-eyes glowing a bright green shade. The bloodless face still held an expression of shock, as though eternally surprised - Surprised to be dead.
"No, no I don't-- Don't make me..." Said the voice.
It wasn't that lonely head's voice, that severed face that floated endlessly through the sky, never quite landing next to its stricken body.
No the voice came from that haziest of places we all know, a place inside, a part of us that burns and cries and dies with age, although we may never know it - A voice with no true tone or pitch, yet more familiar to us all than any other.
"Please don't"
The face seemed to come closer, the girl rose her hands, desperate to scramble back, to move away from it. Her vision suddenly jeered back from the head, a wave of relief overcoming her - Until she saw it.
The head wasn't lonely anymore, a body now lay beneath it. An older body than befitted that young pale face, slouched against the blackness that was so hard to fix your eyes on. The blackness that seemed to urge you back, to look at the body, a body missing one leg.
The centre of the body made the head look almost whole - It dripped with dark, sticky fluid over the top of sickly hand, desperately clutching to it. The girl tried to move further away, to tear her eyes away from what she knew was next. The head moved, or maybe spasmed, with an awful creaking of bones and depleted, withered skin.
'No smell, there's no smell, why can't I smell that, th-that thing in the air...'
It looked her straight in the eyes, it controlled her gaze, refused to let her break from it. A hand rose slowly, tediously up from the body, from beside the overlapping layers of black pus pooling out of its midriff. The hand was an older man's, more covered in singed flesh and bone, then that of its blackened left-over skin. It pointed slowly, from her eyes down to its stomach, if it could still be called one.
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She didn't want to follow that gaze, she wanted nothing more then to do anything but follow that gaze - But follow it the little one did.
Above the body, the miss-matched head's jaw twitched into something between a smile and a scowl - Until finally the mouth simply fell away. Dropping from what had maybe once been the face of a young man, to the ground with a quaint splash that seemed to echo endlessly.
'I know him...Of course, how could it not be him....'
The girl wanted to scream but her voice was gone now, a new voice emitting, vomiting from the now jawless face. The black bloodied hole left by the jaw screamed the words at her;
"What's my name?! Why, why won't you tell me my name. What's your name?" - It was a pleading voice in a way, once you got past the terrible screeching that seemed to come with it, the accent was non-existence, instead replaced by a Tv-static sound, winding its way into her ears, into her being - But beneath it all was clearly a plea for answers.
"Are you the Houkai? Then what was I? Who am I?"
The hand holding its stomach fell away with a start, the head tilted forward before rolling straight off its perch atop those decrepit shoulders and down to the ground - Towards the helpless frozen girl.
A dark wave of black gore pouring from what now revealed to be the slashed and sliced open remains of the body's stomach, lapping and flowing around the once more severed head, pushing it closer and closer and closer and----.
The eye's seemed to follow the girl as it neared ever further, pushed on by an arc of mucus blood, its jawless stare ever fixed on her, always asking those same questions, "Are you the Hokuai?"
Hoki opened her eyes.
She slowly, carefully, pushed herself up from her bed, taking in her whole room;
"I'm one minute late." She scowled glaring at the time.
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