u/Story_Weaving

They Exist After All.

LOG 7:

Day 15.

 

The expedition has been going smoothly. The fauna and flora seem to be extremely similar in biology as what we have back home. I am currently going through very dense foliage that covers this planet’s Sun, the vegetation here seems to be the main food source for most of the animals in this area. No hostile alien species encountered. I am not holding my breath, but maybe this is the one.

 

LOG 8:

Day 16.

 

My food reserves are still intact. I have been living off the plants that grow here, the taste isn’t too bad. Definitely better than whatever Command packs in those stupid containers and then tries to pass off as food. It seems that a solitary avian has taken a liking to me, it has been bringing weird wriggly creatures and eating them on a nearby tree. I miss home.

 

LOG 9:

Day 23.

 

New alien species encountered.

While running the mapping program, I stumbled upon a large, bipedal organism. Its sheer size causing me to stumble back instinctively, I promptly ducked behind the closest brush, the movement creating enough sound to alert the being to my presence.

I tried to stay calm as it slowly approached me. My body began to tense up; Command never instructed us on how to deal with threats of such a monstrous scale; even its movements were enough to flatten the plants under it as it slowly made its way towards me. I slid around the tall grass nearby, hoping to be obscured enough for it to not spot me. I heard rustling as I felt its body moving around slowly, clearly attempting to pinpoint the origin of the sound I had made. It extended its two lanky appendages, brushing the greenery aside as it gradually got closer to my hiding spot. I stayed completely still, bracing for our first encounter.

It was less than a second, but it felt like I was frozen there for an eternity before a loud sound tore through the air, one unlike any I had ever heard during my stay on X-017 so far. I witnessed the thing in front of me jerk its head back unnaturally, looking deeper into the forest, in the direction of the sound, before hurriedly moving through the path that the sound originated from.

I observed it from the spot I was standing in, peeking my eyes up. It moved its upper body in a manner I had never seen before, using both of the appendages it had prodded the foliage with, to move forward.

Its body contorted as it pushed forward, bending its upper half low to clear the thick canopy, its lanky appendages violently swatting and tearing at the dense foliage to force a path through the trees. Its head swiveled around quickly, in what I could only assume was an effort to analyze its nearby environment. Another sound, exactly like the earlier one, rang out through the trees, this time prompting the thing I was observing to generate a similar sound, albeit louder. Communication? I shuddered at the thought.

 

Day 27.

 

The little avian showed up again today; it sat on the top of my head for a bit before it jumped off due to my movement. I felt a weird sort of kinship with the little critter, something I hadn’t experienced since a few years before leaving home. I tried to coax it into coming back, but it ended up flying away when I approached it. Creatures on this planet truly are an enigma.

The seemingly sentient being I encountered a few days ago hasn’t shown up again. I feel relieved. This operation might finally be the one that saves us from ruin.

 

Day 30.

 

I had my second encounter with the monster today. It was a horrifying experience, but I am still hopeful, especially considering the momentous discovery that it led me to.

I was making my way through the dense forest, trying to expand my map of the area. The trees towered over me like obelisks. The grass I had to trudge through felt moist and sticky, weird tiny creatures slowly making their way up as if to achieve some grandiose goal known only to them. I looked up to try to comprehend the scale of the area I was going through, the effort made futile by the thick foliage obscuring my view of the stars. I was glad I was surrounded by all these resources, my gratitude shaken by the feeling of uneasiness welling up in my mind, as if the forest itself was urging me to turn back. But I didn’t.

 

After half a day of moving through increasingly damp foliage, I finally arrived at a clearing, with a giant, rectangular structure made out of a material not unlike the trees I have been surrounded by since landing here, in color and texture. And yet, the sight was odd, this structure did not belong here. It was created by a thinking mind.

 

I approached the structure, running my hands on its surface, absorbing every feeling, every small ridge and imperfection I made contact with. Beautiful. That was the first word that came to mind. Whatever, or whoever, created this thing could teach us so much.

As I was prodding, I felt a tall, slightly narrow, part of the structure move, in the direction of the interior. I reflexively took a defensive stance as it made a loud groan, followed by a deep rumble. As I realized what was happening, a whole new world opened up before my eyes. Trinkets were strewn around the interior of the structure, all of which looked alien to me; I could not parse their purpose no matter how hard I tried. As I trudged through the area, I came across a weird oblong object that seemed to emit a low, staticky sound with a frequency that caused my entire body tense up. Steeling myself, I approached it, touched its seemingly reflective surface as I felt a small jolt run up my body. Electricity? There was no conceivable way what I felt was not electricity. Were the residents of this alien planet truly advanced enough to discover such a complex concept? My mind began flooding with countless ideas of all the discoveries I could help bring to fruition by taking this thing back home with me. Maybe I will be the one to usher in our next step towards evolution, finally guide my people to an era of peace and prosperity. No sooner had the image of me being the new hero to save our planet wedged itself into my mind than I felt a sharp pain in the right side of my abdomen, swallowed by the deafeningly loud, dry crack ringing behind me.

I immediately shook my head back, the rest of my body following soon after, coming face to face with the creature I had witnessed in the forest. It was holding a large metallic tool that seemed to shimmer slightly, with smoke trickling out of the small round opening at its edge. The thing carrying that tool was inexplicably massive, with the carcass of a large animal behind it, its head was bobbing back and forth, its eyes squarely fixated on me. A horizontal slit moved slowly across its face, undecipherable alien sounds coming out of it. A moment later, I saw it lurch forward, two round corners at both upper sides of its body being pointed in my direction. I looked back at the tool that was used to harm me; it was now pointed straight at me so I immediately hit it with my head in an upward motion, sending it out of the specimen’s grasp. It immediately lunged at me, pushing my body into the ground, pinning me down with its lower appendages. As it did so, I saw it procure another tool; a flat, elongated, sharp object. I felt its cold surface pressed against my face as the monster assaulting me kept making loud guttural shrieks, its face contorting into macabre expressions. When it realized that tool was futile against my solid skin, it moved the extremities of its upper appendages around my neck, pressing down fiercely. That was the moment we finally made eye contact; the thing’s pupils were enlarged, round, and unstable. All I could think about was the memory of my people’s eyes in our final days, the same all-consuming thirst for violence and hatred that had stripped our world bare. My existence was slowly withering away as the monster’s pressure guided me towards my doom. Some hero I am.

As its eyes slowly returned to stability, I felt a small drop of liquid land on my face, followed by the suffocating strength gently fading away, the thing’s upper appendages slumping to its side. It stood up, looking down at the pathetic creature it almost killed. I followed its gaze as it moved towards the frame that separated us from the forest. Was it telling me to leave? I promptly pushed myself up and out of what I had believed to be my final resting place less than a moment ago.

It took me another half day to reach the outpost, the source of the pain in my abdomen falling out of me when my body began repairing itself. After analyzing the small projectile that had pierced my skin, I realized my suspicions were correct; it contained lead. But since when was such a sacred material used for harm?

That being had spared me, allowed me to leave. That meant it had the ability to feel empathy, mercy. I *will* establish communication somehow.

Oh, the little avian is here again.

 

LOG ENTRY – March 17^(th), 07:30 AM.

 

Target secured.

Following a 911 call made yesterday by a local cabin owner who claimed to have witnessed a break-in on his property by an unidentifiable biological entity, I was sent to survey the area around the cabin. The man insisted the thing he saw was an extraterrestrial being, with a scaly grey body, and a single tentacle protruding out of what the man could assume was its back. I stayed at the gentleman’s residence for the night, certain the story was a load of bull.

At 04:03 AM, we were both awoken by the sound of something dragging itself on the nearby soil. I went out, and saw something I could not believe, standing right in front of the cabin door. It was small in stature, fitting the description provided by the man. Its body was round, tiny legs that clearly couldn’t be used for movement protruding out of it, a long tentacle where the tail would be pushing it forwards towards me, with a small dead bird sticking to it.

“Stop right there or I’ll shoot!” I yelled, knowing full well it couldn’t understand me.

The thing whipped its tail in my direction, supporting itself on its miniscule legs for that fraction of a second, as the bird landed at my feet. I could tell it was a sort of peace offering as the alien did not engage, instead choosing to stand there, its yellow eyes looking directly at the tiny animal.

I kept it in sight as I raised my talkie to call in reinforcements; the man had insisted a hunting rifle bullet only marginally slowed it down, and I could clearly see no sign of injury on its body, demonstrating incredible healing properties, I wasn’t going to take any chances.

As the talkie shrieked to life with very hard static, the thing’s eyes began to move erratically, as its tentacle thrashed around violently, kicking the bird away and almost slashing me in its frenzy. I began firing, and so did the man that had apparently followed me out of his cabin after hearing the commotion. One of my bullets pierced the thing’s tail, causing it to instantly stop moving. Guess shooting at your problems enough times really does make them go away.

Reinforcements arrived shortly after, hauling the pitiful creature away to some bigshot NASA research center. A few audio recordings were found on a small device in a nearby clearing. It sounds like a whole lot of gibberish to me, but the eggheads in charge of the top brass wanted me to include them in this report regardless. Whatever experiments they plan on subjecting that thing’s body to is none of my business, but at least I have a hell of a story to tell my little girl tonight. I guess she was right, they do exist after all.

Title. I know I can copy the game to my phone and then add the exe as a non Steam game. But I would prefer to add it as my Steam copy, for achievements and such. GN is iffy when it comes to downloads on my phone even at max download speed, so I'd like to be able to copy the game files directly from my PC if possible. Please let me know if it's possible to do and for GN to recognize it as my Steam owned game, rather than adding it as a separate non Steam game. Thank you!

As mentioned in the title. I would love to grind out the Step-Up Battles before they get abolished. So, is there a sort of consolidated updated list containing decks for each Pokemon type?

“I hate you!”

I could not believe the words that had just escaped my mouth. My mother was a coward, but she did not deserve such harsh language. She looked at me in quiet disbelief, as if to say ‘I know, I’m sorry’, while also contemplating how she had raised such an ungrateful brat. It wasn’t her fault my father was a typhoon of hatred—nor was it mine—so I learned to take my frustration and terror out on her, and she learned to endure it, just as she had with my father’s abuse. She was cradling me, my head against her chest, kissing my forehead and wiping the tears from my still-sore cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

I tried to look her in the eyes when saying it, but the tears welling in mine, thick like fog on a window during a cold autumn night, betrayed me. I wasn’t even sure if I was looking at her anymore, until I sensed that all-too-familiar warmth that emanated from the deepest recesses of her soul form on her face, telling me all I needed to know without uttering a single word: It will all be okay soon.

My dad’s thunderous roar echoed out from under the locked door. “Keep it down! Crying won’t get you out of the fucking bathroom!”

Hearing those words, my mother put her finger up to her lips in a shushing motion, causing the smoldering well of resentment in me to erupt like a violent winter storm, right after I thought I had pushed it down enough with my apology. I wiggled my way out of her arms, standing up to face her seated body.

“WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME TO STOP?”

Her eyes met mine for half a second before they darted away in shame.

“Ugh! Fine.”

I jumped into the bathtub and closed the curtains, sitting down and pulling my knees up to my chest. I buried my face between them as tears continued their downward stream across it—a face they had become all too acquainted with. That is the moment I sensed him, just as I always did when I felt isolated. I could tell he was standing facing me in the bathtub, even without lifting my face an inch.

“He’s not real. He’s not real. He’s not real.”

I kept repeating the same words over and over again in my mind like a silent incantation, praying to every god out there that would listen, for him to disappear from my periphery the moment I opened my eyes. But what god would take pity on such an ungrateful brat? No amount of begging could shift the dense, unholy mass sharing the dark with me. The shadow whom I followed wherever I went. My guardian devil. Him.

I looked up, knowing exactly the dreadful sight that awaited me. Every moment felt like an eternity, innumerable thoughts fighting in my mind as I lifted my head slowly, terror tightening its grasp around my neck. Even after countless times, this never got any easier.

The lanky figure towered over my small frame, his hungry eyes piercing through me like a tiger observing a helpless doe, his long brown hair swaying slowly by itself, creating the illusion of a gentle breeze in this tiny, stuffy bathtub. His pallid face was as cold and lifeless as a decomposing corpse, his narrow shoulders as stiff as an unoiled door hinge, creaking slightly when he moved. A ripped white shirt adorned his upper body, revealing an emaciated torso, his rib cage protruding out of his rotting skin, not unlike a starving dog. His pants told a similar story, with holes wide enough for me to peer through, white pus oozing out of small orifices scattered around his legs. He was now wearing pristine black shoes that contrasted starkly with his decrepit frame; black and shiny, as if he were about to attend a ghastly ball.

I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I kicked him, again and again and again, until my legs began to scream for mercy, his stature was unyielding. He gave no reaction, only staring at me with those empty eyes. I tried calling out for my mother, but the words drowned in my throat. I grabbed the bathtub curtain and tried to yank it open to no avail; it felt heavy as concrete, immovable as the tallest mountain. I stood up, trying to push the curtain away, only for it to bounce back against my efforts like a rubber balloon, all the while the tall man stood next to me, completely unreactive, as if entirely oblivious to my struggle. When I moved, his head followed, his neck letting out a sharp, wet creak that sounded like old floorboards groaning under heavy weight. I slunk back, defeated, against the bathtub’s cold embrace.

I looked back at the man for a split second then quickly averted my eyes. I closed them for what couldn’t have been more than a second before waking up in a hospital bed, an IV drip attached to my arm, my mom holding my hand in hers, eyes closed, whispering hopeful prayers.

“Oh my God, Sam! Finally!”

I felt her words cradling my tired heart as I woke up from what felt like a decade-long slumber. She squeezed my hand tightly while explaining what had transpired; she had apparently heard me thrashing wildly inside the bathtub, asked if I was okay a dozen times to no response and then opened the curtain and found me lying on the floor, showing every sign of a seizure: I had soiled myself, my eyes were rolled back into my skull, and foam pooled around my mouth. My arms and legs had been completely weightless, as if I were a discarded puppet whose strings had been cut off. I then apparently began twitching violently when she carried me out of the bathtub, mumbling something about the strange guy that had taken up residence in my world.  My dear father, true to form, had also kept her locked in the bathroom for a good ten minutes prior to finally believing that I had passed out and reluctantly unlocking the door.

After catching me up on the events of the past night, she began hounding me about who the strange man I whispered about was. But after having done this whole song and dance dozens of times, I just told her I had no idea and deduced that it was some weird dream that my delirious mind conjured up. She thankfully bought it and dropped the subject as she moved on to telling me about how nice the nurses were to her even though she had pestered them with countless questions for answers they did not possess. I asked about my father and she insisted that he was in the cafeteria fetching some snacks.

A little while later, the doctor walked in with a fancy clipboard, his greying hair shining under the sterile hospital lights. He looked down at me with the heavy, bloodshot eyes of someone who hadn’t slept for days and told me I was clear to go back home, noting that the seizure struck him as very odd considering nothing was physically wrong with me on paper. As if modern medicine could help against —let alone understand— my second shadow. I thanked him, grabbed my neatly folded clothes, and went to the bathroom to get ready to head back home, keeping the door slightly ajar to keep him away.

We stumbled into my father as we left the hospital room. Carrying a few cheap snacks, he was three hours too late, God knows doing what. He was sporting his usual disheveled hair, untrimmed beard, and piercing eyes that would get a grown man to spill all his secrets with a single look. He stared at me with a half-worried air about him, asking me if I was okay, then looking back to my mom for a rundown of the events. We all walked out together and proceeded to the lobby for the bill.

My mother decided that the chilly air of the country could help me regain my bearings, so my father dropped us off at a nearby park on his way to work. We sat down on a rusty bench, talking about random things, listening to the birds that had just woken up as they sang their sweet melodies and hopped about delightfully in front of us. She was right, the nice morning air did wonders to calm my aching mind. However, that calm was promptly interrupted by my mother telling me she was leaving for a moment to get us some ice cream. My heart jumped to my throat as I started sobbing and begging her not to leave me, imploring that the man would show up. She looked at me quizzically as she always did whenever I brought him up, reassuring me that there was nothing to worry about, turning her back to me and leaving. I immediately felt the usual dread creep up my spine, this time tinged with slight irritation. I looked up to see him standing behind a spindly tree, his hands clasped firmly to his sides, the tree doing nothing to hide his frame. His eyes peered out from behind it, transfixed on their usual target, completely devoid of life. I stared back at him, horrified, like I had been a dozen times in the past, my mind counting every nanosecond until my mother would come back with her icy salvation. I then noticed something odd about his appearance. It took me a while to pinpoint, but I was sure something had changed. After a few seconds of deliberation, I realized that his pants, just like his shoes before them, were now brand new. The old ragged pants that had once adorned his lanky body were now replaced by an impossibly pristine garment that seemed tailor-made for his specific frame. The impossibly black trousers and shoes seemed to hold an elegance that contrasted sharply against the tattered shirt that still clung to his chest like a forgotten relic of days past. I screamed, begging every fiber of my being to push out enough sound to summon my mother, but my pleading fell on deaf ears, as if the universe itself willed it so; my body refused to create any sound. I began internally cursing myself as my eyes fixated on his. His eyes, empty and unmoving, whispered words unspoken, sang lullabies without melodies. I felt my mind slowly drift off into an ocean of calm stillness, my brain sluggishly swimming across its waves.

I sensed my body swaying back and forth violently, only to be jolted awake from my reverie by my mother shaking my shoulders and screaming at me to respond. All I could do was look at her with half-open eyes, mouth agape, a single tear gently dancing along the edge of my sclera.

The way home was a blur; I felt like my body was not my own as we made our way back, only realizing what had happened after collapsing in my bed, my mom attempting to squeeze out any information she could. I avoided her questions like always, knowing exactly what the result would be. After ceaseless questioning, I finally relented and told her everything.

“A tall man? Following you everywhere you go? Honey, are you sure you’re okay? Why have you never mentioned this before?”

“I have, Mom. So many times, so many that I can’t even recall. You always end up forgetting and we then just go back to square one.”

“What? That is literally impossible, Sam.” She looked at me befuddled, taking her phone out and dialing 911.

“Mom, this is pointless. The operator will forget about the entire conversation as soon as you hang up.”

She proceeded to call them anyway, not believing a single word I said. I looked at her as her eyes rolled back into her head, leaving their sockets devoid of life, reduced to two white orbs reflecting my anguish.

As soon as the operator’s voice came through the other side of the line, my mother’s eyes rolled back into place. Looking off into the window of my room as she apologized, she claimed the call was by accident, a look of brief confusion crossing her face as the actual reason for the dial completely escaped her mind.

Her mouth fell silent as she hung up the phone, looking around my room, squinting her eyes with a puzzled ‘when did I even get here?’ look. The feeling of loneliness that I felt every time this exact scenario happened began flooding my mind again, dropping a clump in my throat that would never cease without me shedding countless tears of despair. I was alone, completely isolated, my shadow my only companion.

The door to the house slammed open with a loud thump that always announced my father’s arrival, cloaked in unfettered rage. My mother and I ran down the stairs to welcome him, knowing the outcome of ushering him into the house without wide-open smiles.

I stood there silently, my father’s shadow enveloping my entire being, as he looked down on me with the frown that always tainted his face.

“What’s for lunch?” His eyes inspected the dinner table, finding it devoid of the usual spread.

My mother looked around, still orienting herself after the bewildering moment she had just endured. Her eyes fell upon the kitchen’s clock, realizing it was already time for our miserable table reunion.

“I didn’t have time to cook anything. We just got back from the park” she uttered, clueless to the fact that we had been home for nearly three hours, which had been spent in my room.

“What? You said you’d be there for one or two hours at most.” His face then pursued me like a predator cornering its prey. “Why did you keep your mother at the park for that long? Hm?”

I tried to give him an answer, oh God I tried, but all I could muster up was a few stuttered words that did not satisfy his hunger.

“We… got ice cream… and watched the birds.” The words escaped my mouth, only adding fuel to the raging fire bellowing from his soul.

“Ice cream? My lunch is late because of ice cream?” He yelled, in the general direction my mother was trapped in.

I suddenly became aware of how tight the entrance to my house really was, my body signaling me to flee immediately, only to be met by walls that seemed to shrink around me, confining me in a tiny space with a monster that began to flash its fangs.

“He was in the hospital this morning, I just wanted him to get his mind off of things, especially because of how delirious he was. You know how ice cream always calms him down.” Mom responded, her words tinged with a hint of challenge, which I knew never ended well for her.

“Are you talking back to me?” The words seemed nonsensical as he spat them out; he was the one asking about the ice cream, but that fact didn’t halt the poison from slowly leaking out of him.

My mother took a small step back. “No, I…” she sighed. “What would you like me to make you? Some roast chicken maybe? Lasagna?” Her words quivered this time, doing nothing to diffuse the situation at hand.

“No, I would like some ice cream. I’m sure Sam would love to buy his father some since he missed out on it. Wouldn’t you, Sammy?” He said, sarcastically, while placing a firm hand on my shoulder and pressing down, causing me to wince slightly.

“No! You know he has been saving up for months to buy a new console! He has been so diligent about not spending a dime! You can’t just make him buy it for you. I’ll gladly pay for it!” Her combative tone did nothing to conceal the horror that plagued her mind.

“It’s okay mom, it’s just ice cream, it’s not that expensive…”

“Absolutely not, Sam. That’s not fair to—”

A deafening thunderclap shook the entire apartment as my mother stumbled back, five long and thick marks imprinted on her face, a torrent of tears trailing down her cheek as her arms pushed against the floorboard for some purchase.

“Samuel, go get your wallet.” I primed myself to sprint back to my room until I felt my mother’s palm wrapping around my arm, as she shook her head from side to side for me to stop.

I saw my father’s eyes widen enough to pop out of their sockets when he saw my mother’s act of disobedience; his knuckles white from his clenched grip. He raised his arm again to strike her body, prompting me to jump in front of her, begging for his mercy. The next moment, I was on the ground, gripping my forehead, as blood pooled out from the gash caused by the scrape of my head against a nearby table, the result of what I could only surmise was my father’s wrath erupting against me like a ferocious tempest. Seeing me crumpled on the ground, red oozing out of his only son, my father’s gluttony was sated. His head slumped forward as he made his way to the kitchen to crack a few eggs on a nearby pan. My mother dragged me to my room and tended to my wound, ‘I’m sorry’ seeming like the only sentence her mind could conjure up as she finally surrendered to Hypnos’ embrace. I didn’t hear from my father again for the rest of the night.

My eyes snapped wide open, as the chill of a cold sweat broke over me. My body was immovable, as if cement anchored my entire body to my bed. I tried to force my head to turn sideways to no avail, my eyes being the only organ unafflicted by this terrible curse. I directed my eyes to my left, seeing my mother peacefully resting on the sofa next to me. I looked at her for a few seconds, wishing I could smile at the heartwarming sight, only for my musings to be interrupted by a warm, wet feeling of something squishy being dragged up and down the laceration that decorated my forehead.

I knew the feeling all too well, Nyra used to do it all the time before her passing. But I knew whatever was doing this was not Nyra. I closed my eyes and repeated the same mantra that never got me anywhere: ‘He’s not real, he’s not real, he’s not real’. But the feeling of a wet tongue licking my wound was as real as it can get. I tried to yell, knowing the outcome. Nothing came out. I tried to thrash around; but my body had other plans. I suddenly sensed a heavy weight leisurely making its way onto my body. Two frigid hands grabbed my shoulders for support as the mattress dipped lightly to my right, then what I knew without looking to be a knee lifted and moved to my left, the mattress dipping again on either side of me, creating in my mind the image of two knees pressing against it. He was straddling me now. I felt his chest on top of mine as a breath escaped his mouth with every lick, all the while the creaking of unoiled wooden machinery reverberated with his every movement. His licks gradually became more and more erratic, his breathing sped up, his knees were trembling on the mattress now as his hands caressed my cheeks. My body heaved, begging to be let go, but my jailer had swallowed the key.

I woke up again to a warm feeling in my crotch. The grey sunlight of the dawn had begun to drape my room in its ashen hue, casting lonely shadows on my mother’s sleeping figure. I bolted upright as soon as the memory of the night’s events cleared up in my mind, my eyes darting downward to discover the source of the wet feeling that had made itself known, only to discover my shorts and sheets draped entirely by a dark wet spot where I had wet myself.

My mother’s eyes began to blink rapidly as she fought the last vestiges of sleep, all the while she was staring at the mess I had caused. A small frown forced itself onto her gentle face as she started to look up towards me, a desperate yell suddenly enveloped the room as her face met mine. My father soon barged into the room in response, almost unhinging the door on his way in.

“What is it?!” He roared when he finally pinpointed the source of the scream as being the hapless woman with a hand covering her mouth, and a finger pointing at her son. He looked at me, completely dumbfounded at the sight before him. I had never seen my father in such distress, and this would be the final time I saw him in that state. Realizing that I had been feeling a monstrous heaviness emanating from what used to be a simple wound, I turned my head to face the bedside mirror, only to find a massive, round tumor, the size of my head, protruding from my forehead. A small hole on one side of it was oozing a viscous white pus that had begun trickling down the tumor and onto my face. I found myself enraptured by the small hole. I stared at it in the mirror, feeling it sucking me into its deep black abyss. My head began to feel woozy as it rotated in circles, my eyes still fixed on the small hole reflected in the mirror. It beckoned me, extending its arm out from an endless sea. The world within was beautiful, mesmerizing, enchanting. It knew my name. It called to me. The tall man had given me its blessing, and who was I to refuse it?

The echo of my mother’s screams became distant memories, small noises that my mind filtered out. Only the hole's chatter was what mattered now. A small smile adorned my face as I turned to look at my mother, who responded with more howls of terror. I raised my hand to catch my father’s arms as he lunged at me with a knife, completely crazed by the sight before him, claiming I was not his son. He couldn’t understand the beauty behind the veil. I pressed my hand tighter around his wrist until the knife dropped to the floor with a residual ‘clank’ that reverberated all throughout the ocean of my mind. That was not enough. I heard him whimpering in a way that reminded me of Nyra’s desperate cries for help as he put her down. It still wasn’t enough. His wrist began to contort and twist around in impossible angles until a loud cracking sound rang out in the room, the bones in his hand releasing themselves from the permanent connection they enjoyed with the rest of his body. A mess of veins and arteries escaped from under his skin, and began to spray blood onto my chest as my father’s whimpers grew in volume.

Still not enough. My mind flashed back to all the times he would hurt my mother in my stead. My hand clasped around his throat. I recalled the many instances of him yelling at us for the most minute of issues. I squeezed; he began to cough uncontrollably, his other hand clasping around mine in a vain attempt at pulling it away. I was reminded of the countless insults he would hurl at me, degrading me until I was no more than a slobbering mess on the ground. Tighter; his eyes rolled back into his putrid skull. Memories of all the abuse we had endured in his house reimplanted themselves into the forefront of my mind. My fingers tightened like vices around his neck until not a single bone remained intact, his head slumping forward, no more sounds coming from his sullied mouth.

My father’s lifeless body dropped to the ground when I loosened my grip; his face contorted beyond recognition. The man who had once made me kiss his feet for forgiveness, was now at my feet, traversing down the slope to his eternal doom. I looked to my side, ecstatic to see my mother’s glee at the sight before her. Instead, I witnessed her figure discarded on the ground, convulsing repeatedly, snot and saliva pooling around her face as white foam formed in her mouth.

I was now entirely alone. I knew what that meant. Excitement began to creep up my spine, a gleeful cheerfulness embracing my soul. I looked around expectantly, until my eyes met his. He was standing in the corner of the room, his back facing the wall. He was now cloaked by a set of brand-new accoutrements. His hair was cut shorter, his beard trimmed to fit his face perfectly. He buttoned his dark suit when our eyes met. His eyes that used to drill into my soul now felt like home. He radiated elegance and gracefulness. His beauty was unparalleled. Not a single word was uttered between us. But I caught a glimpse of a faint smile forming at the edge of his lips as he scrutinized the carnage before him.