long dead days | a promise of pain

[𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝕰𝖓𝖉]

| TRAUMA 270 | RP # 1 | LAST CHANCE BR | THEME: "PAINT IT BLACK"|


"MAYBE THEN I'LL FADE AWAY AND NOT HAVE TO FACE THE FACTS
IT'S NOT EASY FACING UP WHEN YOU WHOLE WORLD IS BLACK."

---

The Last Chance.

“Push.”

A simple word with visceral delivery. The hiss was grating on his ears, but it had the desired effect. Lowering himself closer to the ground, pressing forward against the base of the obelisk with all of his might. At first there was nothing more than the straining of his own muscles, the tearing, a violent soliloquy delivered from his neurons to his psyche. Gritting through the pain, he could feel his flesh tearing against the stone. His widening figure contorted, arching as he placed a single hand upon the base of the statue and the other upon the ground. His nails digging into the dirt, the ichor pouring freely from the battered palm.

It had been quite sometime since he had let himself toil in the affairs of man. In seven years, so much had changed and yet, as cliche as it sounded, so much had stayed the same. The same ants scurried around as though they were titans, all the while picking at the scraps that the outer gods left for them. The chalk outline created a circle that while completely harmless, created the nonexistent boundaries of mind and body that were adhered to so feverently. Had he truly broken free of those coils or, like them, had he fooled himself into believing in a reverence of ego that had no truth in the four dimensions.

“You’re getting lost in thoughts, boy. Keep pushing.”

But that was caveat. He knew that he was lost in his own ego or, at the very least, in a perpetual state of crowning madness. He could feel the helm upon his brow, the taut iron searing through the flesh and bearing down upon the bone.

“Do not let them fool you, you have moved beyond such contretemps. You must pay penance for your freedom, child. Do not let them tempt you.”

It was too late. He could feel the tendons tightening, teeth grinding, the blood pouring freely between them and down his broken bottom lip. The sound that emerged from his body was guttural, pained. As he fell to his knees, his head came to rest firmly upon the obsidian idol. The reflection incomprehensible. He saw the soft hazel eyes of a man filled with pain. A father with no children. A husband with no wife. He saw the void staring back at him. A being with no attachments but with an insatiable hunger for violence. Then he saw the child. With matted hair, blood and dirt holding it all together with streaks of tanned flesh exposed upon his cheeks. Lastly, the lowly animal simply trying to understand what it all meant.

It was futile.

“Have you forgotten the disappointment of times long gone?”

The shadows beckoned, wanting him. Needing him. That need was given voice in the form of chaos, whispers tearing away at his consciousness as he tried to find some balancing force in the space and time that surrounded him. But there was no salvation, not on this day. There was no light, but he could feel the heat beating down upon his raw flesh. He couldn’t see the ground beneath, but beyond that dirt he could feel it calling to him. The endless burning sands calling to their champion to return to his anointed task. But there it was again, swelling up inside, breaking against the bone and tearing through the muscle.

These feeble emotions didn’t deserve their place on high, but doubt have given them the keys to the kingdom. Doubt in his past, his present, and the endless futures and possibilities that existed in spite of everything he had done and the gifts that he left at the altars. The last time these fallacies had been given form they had nearly destroyed everything that they had worked for so long, over so many generations, to build. Yet, for all the problematic behavior and nuanced humanity that they brought out of him, they also returned him stronger, more focused, and pure, even if only for a moment or two. That was all they needed. That was all he needed. Just a moment, just a taste of the divine to quench eons of lust. 

He stood up on two legs, it had been ages since he had been embraced by such wonderful melancholy. Leaving these broken lands was painful and it was certainly pointless in the grand scheme. But that’s where the beauty was found, in that solitary moment of the ending of this journey and the beginning of the end of another.

“You will not find the outcome you seek. Your weakness will lead you astray, you will grow weary of their affairs the moment you insert yourself into their affairs, boy. You have transcended that, you know the truth. Why would you toil away in this pool of viscera and lies?”

Breath. He could feel the rise and fall of his lungs; it was absolutely captivating. Such a simple motion brought so much life, so much pain, it was glorious. That’s when the screaming began. High-pitched, feminine.At First a single voice. Lulling him into a state of euphoria, cradling him to her bosom and letting him suckle upon the humanity he was so desperately seeking in that moment. 

MONROE

There was that name. He didn’t know why so many memories were attached to it, but it felt like home. The single scream was soon joined by another. Deep, masculine. His world went red in that moment. The heat, it was overwhelming; all consuming and all knowing. This was the violence he had given up so long ago. The reason for his endless trial and the glory that had been given to him at the end of his last despair. This burning madness that had destroyed all facets of his life and left him a man apart from everything. Enlightenment was the gift but such wisdom was the curse. It left a hollowed out titan with a spark among the cosmos, endlessly shifting between planes that held no real meaning.

“This will be your end, boy. That I promise you.”

Wildly thrashing, he sat up in bed, gasping for air. It only took a moment or two for the raven-haired fey beauty next to him to place her arm against his chest. The porcelain skin a stark contrast to his own, kissed by the sun in so many places. The exasperation took a moment to pass, but once a semblance of comfort returned he removed himself from their bed. His statuesque figure slick with sweat, he stepped over the piles of clothes and entered the bathroom, not bothering with the light as he did so. A quick piss was enough to bring a greater sense of relief and a splash of water to the face brought clarity. Placing a hand on either end of the sink, he took a moment.

“Return.”

The word was clear, but he ignored it. He didn’t want to look up. He couldn’t.

“It was promised, boy. Follow the path.”

Eyes clinched, he could feel the tension as he gripped the granite edges. The breathing exercises were key to finding his center. One deep breath in. One deep exhale out. Repeat. Five minute went by, ten, half an hour. Curiosity won out against fear and he slowly brought his gaze from the sink up to the mirror.

“We have work.”

The familiar skeletal visage stared back at him. There was no father. There was no animal. There wasn’t a void. There was a promise whispered in the shadows given flesh staring back at the fraying sanity of a man in his last days.

[𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝕰𝖓𝖉]

The Last Chance.

“Push.”

A simple word with visceral delivery. The hiss was grating on his ears, but it had the desired effect. Lowering himself closer to the ground, pressing forward against the base of the obelisk with all of his might. At first there was nothing more than the straining of his own muscles, the tearing, a violent soliloquy delivered from his neurons to his psyche. Gritting through the pain, he could feel his flesh tearing against the stone. His widening figure contorted, arching as he placed a single hand upon the base of the statue and the other upon the ground. His nails digging into the dirt, the ichor pouring freely from the battered palm.

It had been quite sometime since he had let himself toil in the affairs of man. In seven years, so much had changed and yet, as cliche as it sounded, so much had stayed the same. The same ants scurried around as though they were titans, all the while picking at the scraps that the outer gods left for them. The chalk outline created a circle that while completely harmless, created the nonexistent boundaries of mind and body that were adhered to so feverently. Had he truly broken free of those coils or, like them, had he fooled himself into believing in a reverence of ego that had no truth in the four dimensions.

“You’re getting lost in thoughts, boy. Keep pushing.”

But that was caveat. He knew that he was lost in his own ego or, at the very least, in a perpetual state of crowning madness. He could feel the helm upon his brow, the taut iron searing through the flesh and bearing down upon the bone.

“Do not let them fool you, you have moved beyond such contretemps. You must pay penance for your freedom, child. Do not let them tempt you.”

It was too late. He could feel the tendons tightening, teeth grinding, the blood pouring freely between them and down his broken bottom lip. The sound that emerged from his body was guttural, pained. As he fell to his knees, his head came to rest firmly upon the obsidian idol. The reflection incomprehensible. He saw the soft hazel eyes of a man filled with pain. A father with no children. A husband with no wife. He saw the void staring back at him. A being with no attachments but with an insatiable hunger for violence. Then he saw the child. With matted hair, blood and dirt holding it all together with streaks of tanned flesh exposed upon his cheeks. Lastly, the lowly animal simply trying to understand what it all meant.

It was futile.

“Have you forgotten the disappointment of times long gone?”

The shadows beckoned, wanting him. Needing him. That need was given voice in the form of chaos, whispers tearing away at his consciousness as he tried to find some balancing force in the space and time that surrounded him. But there was no salvation, not on this day. There was no light, but he could feel the heat beating down upon his raw flesh. He couldn’t see the ground beneath, but beyond that dirt he could feel it calling to him. The endless burning sands calling to their champion to return to his anointed task. But there it was again, swelling up inside, breaking against the bone and tearing through the muscle.

These feeble emotions didn’t deserve their place on high, but doubt have given them the keys to the kingdom. Doubt in his past, his present, and the endless futures and possibilities that existed in spite of everything he had done and the gifts that he left at the altars. The last time these fallacies had been given form they had nearly destroyed everything that they had worked for so long, over so many generations, to build. Yet, for all the problematic behavior and nuanced humanity that they brought out of him, they also returned him stronger, more focused, and pure, even if only for a moment or two. That was all they needed. That was all he needed. Just a moment, just a taste of the divine to quench eons of lust.

He stood up on two legs, it had been ages since he had been embraced by such wonderful melancholy. Leaving these broken lands was painful and it was certainly pointless in the grand scheme. But that’s where the beauty was found, in that solitary moment of the ending of this journey and the beginning of the end of another.

“You will not find the outcome you seek. Your weakness will lead you astray, you will grow weary of their affairs the moment you insert yourself into their affairs, boy. You have transcended that, you know the truth. Why would you toil away in this pool of viscera and lies?”

Breath. He could feel the rise and fall of his lungs; it was absolutely captivating. Such a simple motion brought so much life, so much pain, it was glorious. That’s when the screaming began. High-pitched, feminine.At First a single voice. Lulling him into a state of euphoria, cradling him to her bosom and letting him suckle upon the humanity he was so desperately seeking in that moment.

MONROE

There was that name. He didn’t know why so many memories were attached to it, but it felt like home. The single scream was soon joined by another. Deep, masculine. His world went red in that moment. The heat, it was overwhelming; all consuming and all knowing. This was the violence he had given up so long ago. The reason for his endless trial and the glory that had been given to him at the end of his last despair. This burning madness that had destroyed all facets of his life and left him a man apart from everything. Enlightenment was the gift but such wisdom was the curse. It left a hollowed out titan with a spark among the cosmos, endlessly shifting between planes that held no real meaning.

“This will be your end, boy. That I promise you.”

Wildly thrashing, he sat up in bed, gasping for air. It only took a moment or two for the raven-haired fey beauty next to him to place her arm against his chest. The porcelain skin a stark contrast to his own, kissed by the sun in so many places. The exasperation took a moment to pass, but once a semblance of comfort returned he removed himself from their bed. His statuesque figure slick with sweat, he stepped over the piles of clothes and entered the bathroom, not bothering with the light as he did so. A quick piss was enough to bring a greater sense of relief and a splash of water to the face brought clarity. Placing a hand on either end of the sink, he took a moment.

“Return.”

The word was clear, but he ignored it. He didn’t want to look up. He couldn’t.

“It was promised, boy. Follow the path.”

Eyes clinched, he could feel the tension as he gripped the granite edges. The breathing exercises were key to finding his center. One deep breath in. One deep exhale out. Repeat. Five minute went by, ten, half an hour. Curiosity won out against fear and he slowly brought his gaze from the sink up to the mirror.

“We have work.”

The familiar skeletal visage stared back at him. There was no father. There was no animal. There wasn’t a void. There was a promise whispered in the shadows given flesh staring back at the fraying sanity of a man in his last days.

[Grimm]

See, that wasn't so hard.