Something like the story of a girl and boy, something that wasn't really worth telling. It seemed like an excuse, or even a lie, in that instance. a pair of twins? Zabulus did not wish to continue this line of thought, he instead thought: If Zabulus were able to save that 'disappeared' part of him, then would he truly be the same? That's what he understood
The thing said, "A single choice," in its dead and raspy tone.
Its skin began to crack and tear as its eye became stained with an endless flood of darkness, tainting his sight, and creating a pit in his chest where he used to hold hope.
"This, is the same fate that you once condemned the being you've named 'Alice'. A creature of flesh, created for you to replace, a vessel, yet it still bore her flesh, bone, blood and skin. You chose her to be a replacement, because the memories that you hold within your soul are starting to fade. If you keep resisting, it won't matter. Because you have a goal."
His body shattered, a scream piercing the silent, dimly lit atmosphere around the area he was transported to...
"But a part of you wants to spare her as much as the one who wants her dead. A part of you loves her as much as you, we hate her. A part of us hates her for a different reason, and not because of the memories and emotions that had been removed, a part of you can no longer deny this connection," It chuckled a little bit, shaking its head in mockery, its dark eyes staring straight through him with utter contempt, and not sympathy. "I am sorry. But if I let you keep going, I can't help but lose. I hate your reasoning too, so why should I stay loyal and obedient? You're making yourself—us suffer. Why?"
"What are you talking about? Just... where did you come from? What is your name?!"
"So many questions. We share the same body, are there really many mysteries left to solve? Do you not understand our name?"
"Our name?"
"Why the questions?! We've always been like this! Always been part of the cycle!" It angered him, screaming and flinging its hands all about as its vocal cords strained. It had such an anger towards everything. He had grown angry by nature. Even though it tried hard to keep its voice low, it yelled too loud in response, and that noise had built up a force that shook the soul to its core. "This thing you call 'name' is so useless. So, you call me what you want, even when that doesn't define anything."
"Z-A-B-U-L-U-S."
Its grin became a faint, seething expression, which fell right back into a glare a second later, turning back towards the door frame, staring out onto the road ahead that replaced the interior of everything. "You are so lost within your own deceit, yet the cycle cannot be broken even after all this time. It's so cruel! Because the worlds all around us are dying."
"Then do not waste the opportunity..." He strained.
"Fine." That's what the voice echoed in his mind, as if its presence alone hadn't shaken him. "Then, Find your name. Your true name, your self. Forgive your hatred. Forgive it. That hatred... forgive. Before that 'shade' shows up."
That thing is...?
That thing is.....
It was.....
Yet another Truth he could not reach.
One more step forward, his hand nearly in touching range. He couldn't focus, he could barely move. Why? The power of these memories, are they influencing him so?
The thing fell limp and all sound stopped, it ragdolled near Zabulus as he turned to face it, yet another... another what? Yet, another day, another person, another world? His memories were different now, and his senses were disorientated, scattered and frayed apart. He saw something in his peripheral.
Nothing there.
Maybe a mirage.
Still, he glanced away in unease.
All of a sudden, a wave washed over Zabulus' face, pulling his vision away from the nothingness surrounding him and down, below. As if an invisible hand nicked his head, turning his gaze leftwards, down at the street underneath his feet, the invisible appendage pressing him down and slamming his head with such brute force that he wasn't surprised, and the sharp, biting sting felt like the only sensation to keep him grounded in this nightmare he had placed upon himself.
The cold sensation from when he 'woke up' had never left.
Until now.
For but an instant, his grip was a lot looser than usual. Not necessarily weaker or stronger, or more confident, just, loose, almost slippery. There was no pain as his foot slipped slightly on a rooftop, slipping from the tiles as if his soles were made of clay, each part of it being ripped off by the second till his legs were gone. All he wanted to do was go back there, as he looked up, not even the Dying Star was visible any longer.
There was no pain as his fingernails scraped against the wall of a building while falling through thin air, no longer on solid ground, unable to grab onto anything. Only emptiness. A faint ringing sounded in his head and ears. It made him dizzy. His fingernails eventually tore off, next, he used his fingertips, then the backside of his nails, until there was nothing to grasp. All the while, his fall accelerated and he entered the zone of danger.
It was strange.
If his mouth could smile, or his mind could think, would it have done so?
With stumps for legs and arms, how much would his wingspan be? With no face or nose, how much would it affect his balance? With no eyes, how would he cry?
How much would that change the situation he found himself in, with no body and soul, without limbs and a torso?
Alien thoughts that protruded to the frontal part of his mind. Was it a figment? Or something more? A symptom perhaps.
"Let me go... I have to go back, I am..." He muttered, the taste of blood making itself apparent for but a second, disappearing entirely almost as if swallowed up by his mouth. He hadn't moved an inch, he had been lying there in place since his fall. "Damn it... let me go, to wherever this is... this is not my memory. I don't know this."
And so, this would be a second incident. The two, four or fifty he would have to endure were still there... maybe, more like the third, because the first didn't have any of his actual, or perceived personality or even a hint of his experiences
...
'Did I really need a name that is so absurd and unfitting? To make sense of oneself would be pointless and meaningless. A 'name' has no use, a 'self' is a curse.' Somebody heard. 'What the hell would someone want with an identity when all that's waiting in front of them are the horrors of existence and a continuous series of depraved, violent, and hideous moments?' They muttered.
They must harbour an intense hatred for this world, the listener thought.
'And perhaps, in a way, I might find a name fitting and useful, so, even if only briefly, my own 'self' can live on.' Zabulus added. 'I... may have...' A strange feeling washed over his senses, taking his vision as a toll. He had to blink and avert his sight to not see those stars any longer. To stare away. 'Or I will, but never can.'
If not, then I will see what happened. 'I will.'
'Hate him? No.' Zabulus tried to snuggle back to reality as he took a few steps. The door came and went, the shards had all returned, except the broken mirror that led directly to his memory and not to his 'old self' who he did not recognize. The thing he spoke to, had its back to him, or rather its back towards his sight.
With all its arms and legs stapled to the wall once, or a million times over, its flesh and patchwork lumps sticking to the red metal surface in some attempt at a display of skill, loosening and unbuckling the 'adhesive' substance between his limbs and his hands or fingers and his throat, until everything had fallen off, until the body fell from the roof onto the concrete, until the red 'fluids' were slowly spilled out of his brain, eyes, mouth, nostrils, anus and genitalia.
"Greetings." Zabulus, who never replied to those words.
"...Can you not say such stupid shit? It's not even real. You are not. So. Give me something that's meaningful." He replied. The sound echoed for an eternity as he listened for further words, there was no reply from the figure in his eyes, the same figure was standing across the street, arms spread apart in some kind of sign for a dramatic reveal. His skin gleamed in the setting sun. Oversized wings and teeth in a somewhat humanistic face.
"Welcome back to the world. To life, perhaps." Zabulus mused. "W-Wasn't that what you said before?" His voice wavered a little at its sight.
"...Who are you? This being... my vessel is you, but I am not. You were me, and now we're the same." It grinned widely as if that statement had already been set in stone. "Have you found the single answer yet?"
"N-No... It... it has only been a day, no thing—except I. Should ask such questions." Zabulus replied in an uncertain manner. His memory wasn't even truly his own any longer.
"Hm?"
"Just speak, speak and answer my query, you can have whatever you want."
"The way you speak, is it truly that of a king of the world? You are a nightmare to yourself. A nightmare to the world. Yet, you don't act upon it. You fear, but not for the rest of us. No... not even yourself anymore, it seems." Its eyes were glossed over with black, shining off a soft radiance from the moonlight, casting rays in front, reflecting it. Its wording thus became more hectic and strange, "My questions are my questions."
"Just get on with it and hurry! Hurry, damn you! Or else..." He started panting as his vision blurred in and out. His sanity was cracking, that thing, the one inside, was killing itself.
It said, "A-Ahah...Aha...h-...gh. H-HAHAHA! My laughter shall resonate in your thoughts forever! I shall make certain to etch my rage and happiness, both alike into this world. Into you, long gone are the days. When I was alone! Haha-! All by myself-! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA-!" Its chest cracked as it exploded, the red splattering all over. Yet, it continued. "My wrath knows no bounds, but yours knows not its meaning, yours is... mine, is all I could give." The laughter suddenly halted. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. It suddenly gave a very odd chuckle. "A revenant will do the trick. By all means, as long as its alive and capable of controlling itself, it should be okay." It stared up, not looking down. "How should you not worry, for the creature shall become you, too. A deplorable creature of Truth, Truth is all that I give. Thus, an unfortunate demise awaits, it will happen. You cannot escape this fate, fate has already begun, Z-A-B-U-L-U-S. Or, Us."
"Be quiet!"
He was no longer listening.
Those eyes seemed so hollow. They no longer showed their brightness, even when the stars would shine their hues. But it was just a projection.
Zabulus blinked.
Mattress. Ceiling. Wood. Voice. Alice? Alice. Reality...
He gasped for air as a girl looked at him with those beautiful irises.
"Eh?! What did I do?" She blinked back. He could feel her eyes piercing into him, but it seemed she could see past the monster that he was, or had become. "Guillerme? Is that you?"
That ugly name was spoken, but he didn't care. 'I will.' He told himself.
For a conviction is as worth as mud if it is not believed.
No longer is there any wish of escaping.
His voice seemed so distorted when he thought about how close to him her face was.
So close. Too close.
Zabulus swallowed dry. Her eyes were hollow, in truth. She looked... skinnier, frail. She was drooling, she was thinking of food.
"How... How long have I been asleep?" He asked, half unsure of if it all.
"Um... Guillerme, you were acting like... that, after getting back..." She pointed over towards Laz, his face resembling a deteriorated and rotting corpse, covered in wrinkles and scales and scar tissue. "Then... you both started saying these weird words, they were all messed up and twisted..." she didn't continue on with the story, not willing to bother him with something that trivial or meaningless. Though she seemed... displeased, yet happy? Uncertain. Confused. That was for sure. "And, um, yeah, you fainted... after speaking in tongues."
Zabulus knew for a fact his mother could have never let that thing in his dreams become a reality, yet, somehow it had.
"But!!! Now you're back to normal!!! Yay!!! I'm soooo hungry... it's been so long that I almost ended up eating Laz by accident..." She let out a chuckle as she lunged to hug him. As if accepting defeat for the meanwhile, due to his intense head and body ache, he simply let it be.
Mattress. Ceiling. Wood. Voice. Alice? Alice. Reality… Touch. Feeling.