Chereads / P-OUROBOROS / Chapter 17 - Memory 17: Grinded, 8 Days.

Chapter 17 - Memory 17: Grinded, 8 Days.

As Jaklo drifted off into his sleep, there was a moment of peace and thinking about Rosco and current day events before the past washed over and flooded his mind like a parasite clinging to a valued host. The familiar figure, he had come to recognise appeared before him. The Mannequin Man, he liked to call him. Nothing but a fractured mannequin face plate covering what looked to be grotesque scars, he couldn't quite make out anything else but that identifying feature. Jaklo had absolutely no idea whether or not this mannequin man had malicious intent, from what he had dreamt of him so far it all just seemed like warnings. This man, whoever it was seemed alive and desperate. Jaklo acknowledged that well, the second he became lucid.

"You did well today, the strategy is unfolding as it should. There is an unfamiliar threat, the very red liquid within them is a danger to the world. You must kill he who runs, in order to stop he who plays."

Most of this babbling from the Mannequin man was gibberish to Jaklo, he'd sigh and decide to play along with his game. Looking around the dimly lit room he was in, spotting the familiar TV with nothing but static on it behind him and staring intently at it. "... He who Runs?" Jaklo asked, the mannequin man responded with a nod "He Who Runs.. You encountered him today, he is an Outsider, like you. He's an extremely powerful Outsider, I know not much about him but.. The Musician is fixated on him. I suspect he wants to gather his blood, just like he did with you."

Memories flooded back into Jaklo's head, remembering the time his blood was harvested and he was drained like a juicebox. Just now, he could feel the tight wrist straps around his arms, bounding him to the chair. The blood flow stopping in his legs because of how tight the leg straps were, it was an experience he desperately wanted to forget already. He'd look down, realising the chair he was sitting in was identical to the one he was trapped to. The static-like sound on the TV blared and he'd feel himself grow.. fearful, for the first time in a while. The Mannequin man was replaced by none other than Krover, who stood before him and coaxed him with his very appearance.

He was back, it was like he never left. Maybe he never did leave this dungeon, maybe the years after this were merely a hallucination in his own head, was he really being tortured for this long? The environment around him was the exact same, it caused him to let out a small whine just as Krover began to talk. Someone was chained up to the wall just in the shadowy corner of the room, a pet shock collar was tightened to their neck. Their arms were stripped of the fur and flesh, somehow they were still alive. Most of their body was exposed, infected and degloved and somehow they were being kept alive. He knew this because he could hear them quietly sobbing under their breath, their voice was broken. Krover knew how to keep his victims alive for as long as possible and it was horrifying to Jaklo.

"It'sss.. Interesting seeing you stare off into the distance.. are you imagining another life? I can see your eyes dilating.. Is the Ouroboros in your blood still in effect, Jaklo? Perhaps you're trying to revisit the memory where I captured you.. You can try to fix it, you can try to go back.. I made damn sure there was no scenario where you could beat me. That's why you're sitting in this chair now.. No one will ever see you again... Your friends are all dead."

It couldn't be true, it was just another nightmare. He knew he had only been in this room for 8 whole days, before he was freed. He really didn't know what was real, was he still here all this time? His brain was too foggy to think, all he could do was close his eyes and try. He began to relive the night he took on Krover and failed, he had to fix this. He didn't want this to be a reality.

... 7th of November 2034 ...

It had been just almost two weeks since Rosco's kidnapping, the rest of the gang was concerned and Jaklo was worried to death. They all thought he had wondered off and that it was no big deal, but Arasai disappeared with him. Jaklo was primarily scared because he knew what happened to him, he knew who had him and he wasn't sure about telling the rest of the gang members. He had been receiving phone calls all week, coaxing him and torturing him. Krover was teasing him about kidnapping Rosco, about killing Arasai. The raccoon had never felt so much regret, he had took plenty of territory away from Krover which he realises now was the last thing he should've done.

He stood just outside the warehouse, in a nearby alleyway so no one could see him, his addiction had started recently because of the stress he was feeling. Smoking a cigarette and letting the atrocious smell stain his beautiful, red letterman jacket he wore. Immediately extinguishing it beneath his feet as he heard someone approaching, looking over to spot.. The Musician, someone he underestimated completely considering he was one of those harmless gangs that literally resided within an abandoned theatre, quite like himself. They have never been a threat to him, he found the Cat annoying quite frankly but this was because he wasn't entirely sure what he was capable of.

"Helloooo-" The Musician greeted him with a cheery respect while Jaklo glared back over at him. "What do you want? Why are you dressed like a.. hobo." It was true, The cat was literally wearing a trash bag around his outfit with a scrappy top hat. He'd smile at Jaklo and admire the trashy outfit he had on "Most people don't show sympathy for normal Musician's making a living through performing on the streets.. but they'll see a homeless Musician and all of a sudden I'm being showered in money!"

The raccoon rolled his eyes and looked away, keeping his footpaw pressed down on the cigarette so he wouldn't see it. "So you're panhandling for money now? Things been getting that rough? You run a gang, what would your friends think if they saw their leader homeless and performing on the streets?" Jaklo would laugh a little, looking back at him just as The Musician smiled too "They wouldn't care." Just as the raccoon finished laughing, he'd go back to asking again. "And before you ask, like you usually do. We aren't partnering with you, at all." The Musician would frown a little, walking over and leaning on the concrete wall next to him as well and sighing before asking "Why is that?"

The raccoon looked over at him, raising his eyebrow as if concerned for his memory "Why? You kill people. You're no better than Krover, I'm disappointed about that fact and I want nothing to do with you, which leads me to my primary question. What do you want?" The Musician would stare back after hearing this, right into his eyes and smirking "You really want nothing to do with me? I was your childhood best friend. You've gotten sooo uptight as they years have went by.. I didn't come to ask for partnership- I came with information you might want, you see.. I know Krover, I know he has your little friend. And I also know who ordered him to take Rosco."

The scene suddenly got much more menacing, Musician was standing without his only weapon which was an instrument. Jaklo turned fully to face him, his expression wasn't care-free anymore and was serious as he fixated on him. "First red flag is that you know that son of a bitch, second is that you know what happened. Who ordered him, huh.." The Musician raised his hands defensively, still smiling at this commotion just as Jaklo grabs them and pins him to the wall. Where the Musician would chuckle, enjoying this. "Now, Now.. We'll get to that soon enough, okay? How about I start by telling you they're at the old abandoned slaughterhouse.. Rosco and Krover is there too! and then you'll be there soon enough as well, one big happy crime family!"

The cat's sing-songy voice was aggravating the raccoon, leaning closer to him and tightening his grip on his arms. "Quit fucking around, who ordered this to happen.. Tell me now.. Was it you? I'll fucking kill you.. You know what? I'm going there right now.. I'm getting this over and done with.." The Musician's ears perked up, leaning closer to him and smirking "You won't lay a fingerrr on me! Because you're a pacifist, you a good man! Unlike, poor old me.. I ordered Krover to blackmail Arasai to take your precious Outsider boy. Because I'm jealous, I wanted to be in the Jaklo gaaaang" The cat said in a mocking tone, sticking his tongue out at him before Jaklo punched him square in the face. Throwing him to the floor and kicking him several times in the stomach, Musician simply grunted, even laughing a little as his busted lip would bleed. Practically letting Jaklo beat the life out of him before he left him. The raccoon would pant heavily and fix his hair back into place before rushing off down the street. He didn't really have any time to contemplate much, he wanted to get there as soon as possible. Knowing that the Musician was a trickster in the purest form, he didn't want to play any of his games.

As he ran, his lungs were stinging because of the lack of breaks in between his sprinting. Wanting to get there as quick as possible, there was a sound of static in his head. Ringing out every so often, he could hear Krover speaking to him almost like he was going insane. Like he was at two places at once, maybe he really was losing his mind. His ankles began to beg for the running to stop just as he reached a corner, stopping his journey momentarily to take a breather. Leaning back against a green shutter to a closed off store and hyperventilating, the thought of Rosco in the hands of Krover was sending him off the edge.

What if he's dead, should he really be running into a supposed trap? He can't be dead, Jaklo knew it was his job to protect him and he failed. The darkness of the night only crept in further as he stood there, the silence was so overbearing during his consistent panting that he just forced himself to move again. Jaklo was afraid of Krover, he always has been. He absolutely hated the idea of facing him head on, but he had him wrapped around his finger. Rosco meant a lot to the raccoon and there was no way he was going to let Krover take Rosco from him.

Bearing this in mind, he'd gather his breath and try his best to compose himself. Approaching the slaughterhouse which was decently lit up inside, it was practically empty however at this point.

The barn like doors welcomed him with a cold embrace, leading inside to multiple cells guarded by iron bars and well-spaced out areas that once imprisoned helpless animals. Around this area, the deafening silence caused Jaklo's ears to perk up, he could almost hear the distant ringing of his hearing with how silent it was. Krover was near, he knew it was too quiet to be empty and so he stayed alert.

The raccoon silently walked down the narrow hallway, surrounded by the iron bar pens. Some corpses of decayed animals could be found inside, perhaps they weren't evacuated in time when this place shut down, did they really not care about the lives of these animals? It was distasteful, no wonder Krover found interest in this place, it invoked fear into Jaklo's heart, all of this death was making him queazy, his paw pads began to sweat anxiously. A voice in his brain would taunt him, the static only grew louder and louder each time it spoke "Just like these corpses, you're trapped." The voice beckoned his growing lack of composure.

He came to another door at the end of the hallway, the stench of death reeked throughout the air as he entered the room. It was pretty dark compared to others, the ceiling light above was flickering and was the only thing illuminating this eerie room he had found himself in, the metal inside on each contraption was rusted, debris and scrap metal was laying idly in the corner thanks to a roof cave-in above. There was empty carts simply sitting around, plenty of things to bump into. The main thing that caught the raccoon's eyes were the unkept meat grinders and the rusty metal vat tubs that were so tall to the point a stairway was required to ascend and stare into them. The only other things in the room were stained and old bleeding tubs, it was a grotesque sight and it smelled horrible. Just as Jaklo stopped in the middle of the room, he began admiring a bloody meat hook in the corner; a voice would call out to him from the ceiling that was shrouded in shadows.

"Goooood.." The voice sent chills up his spine, not because it was frightening or that it caught him off guard. It was because Jaklo knew immediately who this was, it caused him to literally jump on the spot and to quickly pull out a pistol, this was the first for him. He had never really used a gun before, but because of the severity of the threat he deemed it necessary. The raccoon gripped the gun tightly with his sweaty palms, looking up at the ceiling with a nervous look past the metal structural bars and broken ceiling lights, desperately trying to see past the darkness to spot Krover. "You actually decided to come along.. That boy means a lot to you, doesn't he? You know what means a lot to me.. Jaklo? Power.. My Racketssss.. You took them from me.. So I take from you.."

The raccoon's finger tightened around the trigger, he couldn't help his eyes from narrowing out of pure fear. The lump in his throat was overbearing, Firing off a random shot towards the ceiling and allowing the flash of the pistol fire to illuminate the ceiling for a moment. Even in this small frame of light, he couldn't see the predator that was hunting him down.

"I know your type.. I experimenttt.. with them often.. You're an Outsider.. Ouroboros.. isn't that right? I can see it in your eyes.. Dilating.. moving.. shifting.. clinging onto the last memory to run back to in the event I cave your fucking head in-... You can fool your friends, pretend you're Mr Know-It-All.. But I know who you really arrre.. You're nothing more than an Outsider.. You can't fool me." Krover's voice was raspy, monotone but yet it was full of hate. Jaklo's legs began to shake with pure adrenaline, he didn't want this. He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest, like the caged animal corpses in the previous room he felt utterly trapped. "I know thisss.. I know this because your power is special... I know of another person.. with Ouroboros in their blood.. they're a junkie.. heroin addict.. their blood is impure.. but yours isn't.. and it isssss worth a pretty penny.. The Musician is willing to pay me top dollarrr.. for your blood specifically, I thought I'd take the offer.. I'll be able to get my rackets back.. and get some more money."

Taking a few steps back, the barrel of Jaklo's gun began to rattle with an increasing submission to his anxiety. Desperately attempting to assert his dominance back over Krover with a thundering shout. "Come down here and Face me like a MAN! Where the FUCK is Rosco you FREAK!" Even after this single shout he was breathless, his heart rate was throwing him off. Krover wasn't stunted at all by the shout and continued speaking. "And that's the real weapon right there... I don't even have to do anything.. you're afraid.. fear is the ultimate breaker to any defence.. even Ouroborossss, I experimented with it.. All I have to do.. is mentally choke you.. before I literally choke you.. make you squirm.. Because if I am unpredictable, while you're fearful.. how is your brain going to react fast enough to stop me.."

Jaklo would take another step back, the shadows above were completely silent. It was unnerving, almost like he was being stalked and calculated by this smart Raven, the raccoon knew he wasn't messing around and he was trying his best to focus. But Krover was right, Jaklo's legs were quivering and his eyes were almost close to filling with tears. Just as he moved back he accidentally bumped into a cart, disturbing a swarm of flies that laid along a shipment of rotten meat inside of it. Freaking out fast enough to drop his gun and to move away. Almost falling over, in his peripheral vision he seen a larger dark outline rushing towards him. He couldn't predict it or sense it at all even with his ability. Immediately receiving an uppercut to the Jaw that sent him to the floor.

He fell, but that's okay. He was ready to use his ability now if Krover tried to attack again, as he opened his eyes to look. He was gone, nothing more than the shadows of the dark ceiling above him as he quickly stood to his feet again. Proceeding to look around and starting to panic. Krover really was slowly dissecting this engagement, attacking only when Jaklo is caught off guard so that he cannot use his power to pre-cognate.

"It's a sad reality.. really.. for you people with Ouroboros.. that guy back in my laboratory? the one with Ouroborosss.. just like you? He's there.. but in his mind.. he's fighting me.. from months ago when I captured him.. stuck in his mind.. trying his very best to win a battle that was meant to be lost.. over and over again.." The thing that Krover said stuck with Jaklo, his heart pounded faster as he looked around the room desperately. The voice in his head, the one that sounded exactly like Krover spoke again to him. "Just like him.. You're stuck fighting me.. for eternity.. watching this TV.. letting your mind fry, more and more each day.. you're nothing more than my little slave now.. Jaklo."

The raccoon flailed around defencelessly, his mind was racing. Throwing his arms around in a panic, at this rate Krover was going to beat him. "FUCK OFF! Get away from me! YOU HAVE NO CONTROL OVER ME!" Jaklo screamed, being attacked again but from behind. Pushed right to the floor with a painful scratch in his back from the sharp talon. Right as he turned to look at his attacker, he caught a glimpse of a smirking Krover. Standing in his suit and towering over him before the light above would shut off. The room was shrouded in darkness, the only available light came from the hallway he entered from. Heavy, thudding footsteps ran past him and towards the door. Shutting it, the loud squeaking indicating that Krover had locked it.

The room was pitch dark, Jaklo had the chance to stand up.. Forever lost in the shadows, his fear growing as he couldn't see. Krover had a hearing better than his, he had every advantage in this battle, especially since Jaklo was frightened and a complete nervous-wreck.

( A9 By LudoWic Would Play Here )

As he stood in the room, his senses heightened thanks to the darkness. Trying not to make a sound, the adrenaline in his body completely disregarded the pain of the bleeding long scratch on his back. Staring around in the shadows, desperately trying to make out a silhouette or anything that he could counter. He couldn't do anything like this, he would be attacked and possibly killed unable to pre-cognate.

"I just have to drown out your senses.. with darkness.. keep you here forever.. and keep you in my laboratory.." As Krover said this, Jaklo's ears would perk up and turn in the direction of his voice before he was punched in the stomach with the long talon. Scratching his flesh beneath the clothing and sending him stumbling backwards with a dramatic whine. His body shivering, his mind almost begging him to flee. ".. Picking away at you with a scalpel.. seeing how much pain it takes until your mind cracks and stops trying to go back.. maybe I'll pick away at your nerves.. sever them and listen to you scream.. Will Ouroboros still let you go back after I do that? Will it ever .. be the sssame?"

Jaklo knew what he was trying to do, he knew if he let the fear get to him anymore it would be his downfall. He'd take a deep breath in, trying his best to compose himself as his ears moved around like a satellite dish, trying to pick up any sort of sound. The very light, silent but heavy footsteps approached from the left. It allowed Jaklo to move right out of the way, dodging a long and heavy punch that would have taken him off of his feet. Leaving the room in silence again before Krover began to speak. ".. And when I'm done with you.. I'll get Rosco back.. I'll rip hisssss lungs out in front of you.. just to see if your mind can persevere long enough to try to undo that.. so that you have to watch me rip his lungs out again and again until your brain melts.."

Even though the raccoon was trying his best to remain composed, this broke him. Angering him and almost sending him into a frenzy before.. Beeping, loud beeping came from the darkness. The eerie display of sound emanating from one of the machines, it was the meat grinder. The whirring of the blades waiting to maul flesh could be heard, a bright red light would be the one thing shining throughout the darkness. The raccoon's ears continuing to signal around the room, listening intently as he stared towards the red light, almost being drawn to it.

"I'll make you regret every last square inch of land you took from me.. every lasssst man of mine you sent to prison.. I'll reduce you to a brainless hussssk.. waiting a command.. Like the others.. You're nothing.. BUT FLESSSSSSSH!" The last insult came out in a hiss, he'd be grappled by the collar of his shirt unexpectedly. His eyes dilating over and over again as he tried to go back, his shock and unstable mindset in the moment was making it hard to focus on pre-cognating. Mentally overwhelmed and weakened, he was thrown in the direction of the red light, narrowly missing the gnawing metal blades of the meat grinder.

At this point, Composing himself was the last thing he wanted to do. He knew this was literally a fight for survival, a fight to stay alive. The static in his head was torturing him, almost like he was watching something on replay in his head. The loud beeping of the meat grinder was ringing through his mind, dulling out the noises of the approaching Krover. The raccoon would be punched again, he felt his tooth crack as his head slammed against the rusty surface of the machine. Letting out a short sob as he was picked up and punched again.

Jaklo would fall to the floor, hyperventilating and almost curling up. The punches didn't even hurt, he was just having a full on panic attack as the shadowy silhouette of the dominating Krover towered over him. "If you know.. what isssss good for you.. you'll be a good rat.. you'll stay on that floor.. you'll let me.. take your blood.. and then I'll take back what isss minee... I'll take your friendsss.. I'll take your home, where you liveee.. and only then.. will I let you go. Mutilated, broken and weak."

He could only hear three things, the beeping of the meat grinder, Krover's voice and the static in his head. He had lost... again.. He didn't know why it was happening over and over, like Krover said earlier on, maybe he was trying to go back and fix it. This was all just a memory, it was a memory he was desperately trying to return to and fix. But it wasn't working, the truth was brought to him the moment he stopped hyperfixating on the thought of being beaten again, he truly was trapped in his head. Letting out a sharp sob as he looked around the dull, new room he found himself in.

His eyes were wet with tears, his face was smothered in blood, his clothes were dirty and ripped. His arms tightly strapped to the chair, his jaw was swollen thanks to the cracked tooth and he hadn't been able to feel his legs in days, the straps were so tight they restricted blood flow as well as movement. In actuality, he had been stuck in this room for 4 days, every now and then he'd relive the past and try to fix what had happened, but no matter what he did, nothing worked. It was just an endless limbo that'd constantly break him down every single time.

... 11th of November 2034 ...

Despite the corpse in the corner of the room, there was one other object in front of him. A TV, it was playing constantly, nothing was on it but loud static that dulled out his senses and practically drove him insane. Krover was smart and knew what he was doing, it was constantly making him want to go back. It was flaring the Ouroboros in his blood up, making it more powerful. It was then he noticed the several tubes protruding from his arms and connecting to a blood pack, he felt weak and despicable. He was being used like this, a loser that was stuck in his thoughts trying to make everything better again. The only thing that came out of his mouth were weakened sobs, even when he tried to speak nothing would happen.

"haaaa-.. Heeeeal-.. " It was only a whimper the raccoon could let out, his throat was parched and he desperately wanted water. Leaning his tired head back to fall and lay idly while he waited, he had wished he could talk to the other person with Ouroboros in their blood but they were unresponsive, they were pretty much dead. It was some bear looking guy, definitely a junkie from the sight of him. Or maybe the terrible sight was just an after-effect of just how badly Krover had mutilated him.

As his head laid back, his tired and injured eyes would stare up at the slowly filling blood bags. Wondering why his blood was being taken like this, in fact they were taking his Ouroboros blood on one arm and sending normal blood back into his other arm. He hadn't slept in days, normally he would take melatonin to backfire against the insomnia but thanks to this he was pretty much driven insane, slowly breaking.

Krover would step into the room, the open door would reveal the room next to Jaklo. He was in a laboratory of some kind, it was too dark and gloomy. Maybe they were still in the slaughterhouse. He caught a glimpse of another person, they were chained by the neck to the floor in a hands and knees position. Their body was positioned above a drain, it looked like it was melting. Acid was drenched over their back like a chocolate fountain, they were screaming in agony through the muzzle strapped to their maw, muffling their painful whines. It gave him an idea of what kind of experiments he was performing on people.

"Have you sssstopped your little hyperfixations? I need to talk to you.. I need you sssane.." Krover asked Jaklo, sitting down in front of him and staring at him with a cold expression. The shadows around the room weren't making it any easier to make out his expression, he liked the shadows. "Plehh.. hnhgh.." Jaklo coughed up a foul ball of mucus stuck in his lungs, days without talking had done this. Spitting to the side and drooling a little from his busted, infected lip. "Please-.. Let me go.. I beg you.. I'm stuck in a loop.. I can't get out of my own mind.. I'll do anything to make it stop.."

Then Jaklo said something he thought he'd never say, he had fallen to the lowest point in his life at this very moment. "Let me kill myself.. I want to die-.. hn.. Please.. I hate this.. kill me-" Krover smiled, knowing he was definitely sane. The static of the TV in the background was making a valued imprint on Jaklo, one he felt he'd never forget the noise of ever again. "You're going to live through all of thissss.. You understand me? Mussssician likes you.. He's keeping Rosco with him, and I respect that because I resssspect him.. I won't touch Rosco.. but I have no idea what Musician will do to Rosco.. If I ssssee any of your other friends.. I'll kill them."

It was at this moment, the raccoon would realise he was holding a clipboard. Starting to ask him questions, everything hurt from the constant physical torture over the days. He couldn't mentally be capable of answering such questions.

"How many visions of the passssst have you been having over the course of these days?" Jaklo looked up at him, responding with a light wheeze in his breath. Somehow he was able to count exactly how many times he had drifted into his memories out of his volition "Hhn.. One.. Thousand.. Three hundred and Seventy Six Times.." As he answered this, Krover looked a little impressed but Jaklo couldn't exactly see that thanks to the dark room.

Instead of showing his surprise vocally, he'd ask another question. "When I hurt you.. do the memories occur more often?" The raccoon gulped down some trapped saliva in his throat, his head shivering as he slowly looked around the room. He felt like a corpse, he just wanted to be a corpse already. "Very.. Often.." The sadness could be heard in his voice as he said this, Krover let out a hum of approval and scribbled some more stuff down on the clipboard.

"How doesss.. the TV make you feel?" The raven asked, his eyes snapping away from the clipboard and up to the raccoon who was having trouble keeping his head up straight. He'd turn and look Krover directly in the eyes "I --.. I want to.. I want to go home.. I want my mom.." As he said this, he began crying. Tears falling from his eyes as he broke down in that very moment. Krover stared at him and nodded silently, about to scribble down the result on the clipboard before Jaklo began talking again. "I HATE IT! I WANT IT TO STOP.. I WANT THE STATIC TO STOP! IT.. IT JUST KEEPS GOING!"

The bird quickly looked up at the restrained raccoon, then toward the TV and smiling. Without a response, he'd stand back up. Leaving the room again without even comforting the raccoon, locking the door behind him and leaving the raccoon in silence. He'd go completely still again, thinking back to another memory in his head.

( You Did This by Scattle Would Play Here )

It felt like this memory lasted for days, and it did. Except it wasn't so much of a memory than it was a curse, for some reason ever since the death of his mother he had unlocked this power. Like it was there the entire time, a coping mechanism to help him respond to the trauma. Like a wish that he could go back and fix it, only he couldn't. Just like he couldn't go back and fix his defeat against Krover, he couldn't go back and save his mom.

The raccoon could vividly remember one thing, the ticking and broken clock on the wall they had never gotten replaced. It was stuck on the eleventh hour of the day permanently, it had always been making this eerie, stuck ticking noise. But yet, there he stood, a child-like version of Jaklo with a crayon in his hand standing over the fresh corpse of his deceased mother. His life would forever be altered thanks to this, his father stood over her with a bloodied metal photo frame in his hand. The large gash on the mother's head told it all, the glass on the photo frame was shattered. "M-Mom.." Jaklo cried out, dropping the red crayon to the floor and freezing on the spot as his father glared at him, it seemed like his father wanted to cry but he was desperate to take out his anger on the raccoon instead. "You Did This.. You know that? Ever since you were born.. you killed your mother.. it was your fault." his breath reeked of whiskey, as per usual.

Jaklo looked up at him, tears in his eyes and clearly angry at him. It was unknown if he was even at the age to understand what death was. His father continued speaking to him. "Ever.. SINCE you were born there has been nothing but arguments.. Money Money MONEY! It's always money and WORK!.. Work .. Work WORK! when it came to raising you.. She.. fucking hated you.. I hope you know that.. This is YOUR fault, you little fucker." He said bitterly, dropping the cracked photograph to the floor. Inside was a valued memory, it was Jaklo hugging up against his Mother. She was happy, she loved him.

"No.. You Did this Dad.. You hurt her.." he said loud and clear.

All Jaklo can remember that night after saying that, was receiving a beating. Harder than he had ever had in his life, punch after punch was a taste of hell, and a taste of what is to come. It flickered him back to reality, he was still sitting in that room. Blood must have been pooling in his lungs because he was struggling to breathe, he was struggling to stay awake and he was certain that he was going to die.

Then he'd snap to another memory instinctively, his ability was like a another person inside of him that was desperately trying to crawl out. Taking control over him and activating manually. This memory was a few days after it happened, Jaklo was sitting in his parent's room. As a child he couldn't exactly understand it, the concept of death was very foreign to him. Which is why he gave a confused look to the body hanging from a noose in that room, his father had taken his own life. Jaklo clutched one of the empty bottles of whiskey he drunk shortly before doing so. He had wish this never happened, he had wish it would all go back. That his father would start talking again, that his Mother who was buried in the backyard would hug him again, it brought a tear to his eye. That gradually drifted down his cheek before stopping.

The tear would instead reverse back up his cheek into his eye, he felt the warm touch of his Mother's hand against his cheek, it was a hallucination that he couldn't even see but Jaklo believed it. "No tears.. Just be happy for me, you're a good kid." His mother gave her last words, after that. She was gone, the room was completely silent and Jaklo was in disbelief. Staring at his father's boots with tears still welling up in his eyes, from that day he discovered his ability. And from that day he strived to find a new family, he did. But what he didn't understand was for how long would he have this new family, maybe that's why he was so overprotective of Rosco, someone that he could truly relate with.. He thought.

... 13th of November 2034 ...

For some reason, a new memory arrived, this one didn't feel like a memory, as he had never experienced anything like this. For some reason, he was somewhere he had never been. He was in a beautiful place, high up and away from everything else. The narrow, long bridge he stood on would creak as it was made entirely from wooden planks, it would stretch forward and far away to the next mountain it was connected to. When he looked down, he could see the clouds blanketing the large surfaces of high up land below him. The air was thin, yet the breeze on his face was peaceful. The fog was dominating, yet it was oddly comforting to know that he couldn't see directly ahead of him. Jaklo could only do one thing, he decided to walk. And so he travelled, walking slowly along the bridge while he talks to himself in his head.

"I have been trying, mom. I have been trying to protect the family I wasn't able to protect before, instead I ran away from them all with my tail tucked between my legs. Everything is difficult, the world has changed and grown over the years but somehow I still feel like a kid, the past flashes before me every single day. I don't think it's trauma, it's Ouroboros. I can't help it, the curse binds me to relive every painful moment I've experienced... It's.. Imaginary, everything is Imaginary.. Imaginary Bullets pierce my skull each day and I live with it. I don't know what is real anymore. I'd choose to die a million times over but the two hands on the ticking clock is what brings me back each time, I feel like I died years ago.. I feel like I died yesterday."

The bridge was almost endless, his hands would run over the dry rope that held the walk-way together. Feeling a mixture of emotions, he was trapped in his own mind and this nightmare refused to end. "Is it too much to ask.. for it all to end right where it all started?" He'd ask.

... 14th of November 2034 ...

After grasping at these memories, he'd fixate on them for days, mainly the one involving his parents. He didn't know whether the other one he was experiencing was in the past or present, he was losing himself. Although, the raccoon would make it his main priority, trying absolutely anything to prevent what happened in the past, he needed to fix this, yet he couldn't. He couldn't do anything, Unable to comprehend that fact in the moment of consistent recollection, he was practically braindead. His body and mind was weak, but he was awake enough finally to spot Krover in front of him, The TV was off and the static wasn't on the screen anymore but he could still hear the static in his mind, he'd continue to weakly cry as he was freed from the chair, the pins and needles in his dead legs were immense. He'd be tied up again by the hands and dragged out of the laboratory or slaughterhouse, he didn't know where he was. Krover began speaking to him, even if he was half awake.

"I'm letting you go now.. I sssshould kill you for what you done but you are the Musician's priority.. he wants you alive.. mussst.. really like you-- If I ever ssssee you again- I'll cut you to fucking pieces.. do you understand me..?" Jaklo was silent, suddenly being jolted awake. A hand slapping his face sharply as he weakly opened his eyes, the blood transfusion was complete. Krover could give less of a fuck if it worked, he just knew he had the Ouroboros from his blood and Jaklo can die on the sidewalk for all he cared. Which is where he was, he was somehow already outside. Responding immediately to Krover by using all the strength he had left in his body. "Yeeeeeeeaah-.." It was more of a groan than an affirmative, he'd be thrown to the cold and dark sidewalk. The night was almost over, he could lay there and watch the sunrise in the distance over the tall skyscrapers. Jaklo felt a sense of happiness flowing throughout him, he didn't know if this was a good thing or not. He felt free, but he didn't know what was real anymore, he felt like he was still hallucinating, like he was still strapped to that chair and that this is just his dying mind playing tricks on him.

He never suspected that he'd be the same again, every element within him was shattered to pieces. Krover had did numerous unspeakable things to him during those 8 days, he never expected to leave alive. But then again, he didn't know if he left at all.