Waves, such waves came from above, a smooth, black substance spreading as far as the horizon could possibly permit, at the back of him was a gigantic tidal wave that was still somewhat small in comparison with what came above. He began to shudder, that giant tidal wave had just hit him with a wave of freezing cold and burning water. That surge crashed onto the rock formations and started lapping at him. When that giant wave settled and dropped off, the cold, almost unbearable, biting cold, and the pressure would continue to assault his lungs until he drew his last.
To see how little of it survived, one must first imagine that great monster atop him, looming. Although he—No—Everything else would perceive it as 'piercing-at-the-brain-stabbing'. Then the floor would begin to vibrate. They looked up. And—Oh heavens!—Not just to the eyes... it shook all. Now you understand, knowing the shape above?
With an increased force, the surface exploded in a loud BANG—BLAST—DOOH... Toyed with. Tortured. Granted a new birth. Everything had happened, the pain, the damage that had been done to him in that single moment... how the waves would slap onto his skin, crack his skull, and break his ribs. But instead of dying, he lived it all. Lived it in that eternal moment of hell. That monstrous, sublime pain would then take its toll on him, its torture becoming too much.
The goddess looked at him. Though her gaze looked upon him and took into him. "Hehe..." She giggled like a greasy fat-faced girl-child, her hideously putrid figure sneering a devilish smirk upon the broken mans mind. Her pupils seemed like great bottomless pits, endless depths which devoured... an odd shade to her irises a wide red, the veins at the center of them popped, looking bloated and bruised as if her heart were about to explode. Her crooked spine twisted back slightly.
The hideous image burned itself into his Oh-so-shallow thoughts, ever a conscious figure; however, was never strong, instead weak, wailing and mewing before a vulture circled it... before the death came to an end. He thought he had had enough. But, however much he wished for it, his death never came. A pleasure and pain mixed in his broken frame and he made his voice of annoyance heard, the most important thing being that it sounded relatively strong. In fact, it sounded incredibly powerful... as much as it was a lie.
Alice, who was tied by incredibly long tendrils, had witnessed this 'battle' between 'them'. She was sure the outcome had already been settled in Eskra's favor. It would only be a matter of a few breaths, possibly mere moments and all of 'it' would be gone. What were the reasons, the goddess might simply have no concern regarding the state of its body. If not, Eskra merely could simply continue it and add to its misery in that hellscape, probably then tearing his 'soul' to pieces with her tendrils, or perhaps playing with his organs. However, the reality that he saw or what seemed to be so, had already proven that 'other than death' was nowhere to be seen. A despair settled within his face, was he completely losing? He definitely was.
Headache, headaches. The sheer pain numbed his sensations and the horrible gut wrenching screams began to flow down and echo throughout the place, all-hearing. What could a deity do? The goddess will undoubtedly hear its cry of rage and suffering, right? Or was she simply too-into the torture that she lost sight of the beauty that she was representing, so foolishly enamored by a mortals pain that she did not realize her mistake? Yes, she was beautiful and powerful, but... Can gods understand emotion? Empathy? Even if a creature is afraid, what is the difference when a being dies?
No, they can't. If so, it'll likely go about as 'idiotic' and 'basic' as it does, trying to become a savior in her mind and trying to use her pain to justify the brutality and cruelty, then 'stop and show mercy'. But that will prove her greatest failure of all, losing this battle without realizing it... Or just forget about mercy and pity to this mortal. Not the latter. Yet, if the rest was possible, how she didn't notice it would probably lead him and others to know how much less of a being she is, one more shallow and one-sided than anyone... except Alice who might just view her in some sort of goddess-status.
Not that either matters.
One would naturally think and find it quite normal to assume that gods have complete control over their physical emotions and powers; yet they would still experience and show all sorts of signs of high tension and conflict in their soul and spirit, along with despair, emptiness, frustration and hatred. But only a rare god would truly possess this... one would think. If gods were to be the true creators of all, then what existed, and what they were before, is nothing short of inhuman in its nature. They've got no humanity or anything remotely near it. So, do they understand humans? To be understood, are those born, self-made? Or is the act of understanding and creating the perfect knowledge, an understanding only found in self?
If gods possessed 'self' to begin with, can they comprehend each other's souls, or are gods simply no longer able to comprehend the worlds that they themselves once helped to create? He remembered everything... including a child whose dream was to run and grow with everyone else, was to escape the bonds of the land. A hollow dream as is any 'living', and everything was limited. Some will consider her ability the most sacred among all her followers, like a 'servant' to the heavens and gods. Is it not ridiculous to see someone with such ability being kept a secret from others, while heretics freely spread knowledge and the fact?
Such people could no longer believe that the ability to control any gods... or even move them or cast them into a realm were to occur in their lifetime. Especially in this era, in this life of everything wonderous, yet horrific.
Another thought brought him to a vision, back to where he had left off in the void. Back to the present, with its absurd and unbelievably vibrant hues of reality and abstractness, so utterly pristine and sharp.
Eskra seemingly stopped all her movement, as he no longer felt any pain. At least he thought to himself, he felt he couldn't breathe anymore, even if he still stood on that same spot. And if he fell, or closed his eyes, the sensation of her presence would now completely and fully be there.
Back then he knew nothing, it was easier to shut his mind and 'mute' any of her ideas, not have a purpose, a life of living to go with. He was such a fool, he was. A half-witted individual that's worth nothing and was only made up of blood, organs, flesh, and muscle.
Alice was 'released' by the tendrils, but gently. No signs of that obsessive torture of the goddess, no... it was rather unlike her personality... She appeared too relieved, too happy for any good purpose or situation, although she was a known beautiful creator, or rather... she was. She now appeared to have completely changed personalities and attitudes.
She floated past his body, smiling... saying 'You've done very well, though your soul and blood have drained. Do not return here again; for you would know better than to be an idiotic heretic or a greedy soul.' He hated that. That entire sentence she had uttered without batting an eyelash. Every word that flowed out of her mouth was complete nonsense, like a nonsense novel written by some writer in history who didn't really need that genre or needed a surrealistic story and concept, who wrote merely for the sake of having words on paper, or his work simply went under appreciated by most people. Although that outcome itself should have been expected when he didn't really care in the first place. He was filled with an odd sort of resentment and sadness, despite him having died many times.
So much regret. Regret from the decision.
"The many secrets she held could have possibly helped him gain new light towards his immortality." This statement spoken out by Eskra was uttered as a side comment, something one can call it 'parting words', even if said after his little period of life-degrading.
At this time, they can come around an actual truth. An eye opened up with two feet attached to its eyelashes, tendrils creeping outward in every direction from them. As if telling them to 'scram', their being just an unpleasant memory... though their meaning was quite the opposite to Alice.
"Heretical mortal, you are." An idea suddenly entered Alice's mind as those words were once again uttered. She grabbed Zabulus by the waist and held him like a newborn, swiftly, moving forward and into the thick tendrils, chewing and spitting them out towards the ground which was smudged with dirt, for there are no marks from Alice's fingers left behind. Their surroundings rapidly faded to shades, slowly, only shades remained visible... a low wind blowing through Alice, with a deep whisper of some sort that didn't make sense to her, nevertheless... She chose a direction, any direction, not letting her memories confuse her, they didn't necessarily lead her into a disaster. 'In those pasts, are remnants of old desires, ones that can't be realized easily...' A thing spoke.
"What do you mean... by that?" Alice would ask that.
Zabulus suddenly recovered.
'...and as I went and arrived... There was nothing for me, apart from suffering a feeling like death itself is trying its hardest to escape its shell and try to change me. Cocooned, I should have been, it did feel more similar and like a process of gestation. All around me, darkness engulfed and consumed it all.' The strange voice murmured softly and peacefully.
She noticed, she did. The voice that spoke to her, came from nobody but her own.
'The darkness ate and ate, I could no longer speak... In reality, maybe it was nothing more than my lack of patience, though, there is more.' Said the voice.
She wished that it would shut up. For if this was the moment for it to speak; how greatly stupid would that be? This creature, whatever or whoever it was, they must've had no reason for trying to fool or convince her...
'Only darkness, it comes forth. It comes through, destroying everything. Have you known that the darkness grows strong, only because the light lets it? Although darkness is created, it should never hold the right to overtake and become more potent than its opposite counterpart. If this world was filled with no more than the two, I believe that the balance may hold far better and a stable and proper sense. One must not always give credit for the victors. Besides, what need is there to rejoice with, if they are winners, just winners of death?'
It continued, speaking in a rhythm. Rhythm, pace and time are all constant in every kind of speaking, not just talking... for now and all eternity. Alice continued running as she chowed through the tendrils to infinity.
"..."
Finally, the void in blue came to view, a quick moment, followed by some drops of sweat formed in her pores. The small, slight taps of sweat and other fluids formed from skin. Then, came another glimpse of the divine beast-goddess, it flashed through the darkened sky as an outline with no colors. The orange, purple, and yellows—muddles, ever so rapidly flew in and out.
"Alice, to your left." Zabulus said, though this seemed more like a lie. 'But I won't fall for the damn trap.' This was simply impossible. Why and for what good purpose would he need to bring and lie to her now, while in peril and endangered?
She turned to her left, and just as she did, the path she was on would cave in on itself; she'd have sunk down if it wasn't for Zabulus.
'Just one more, do you not know?' Zabulus spoke, with an expression that could mean much and more, he looked troubled, or at the very least, on edge, despite him and being out of touch with it all still.
As she kept running, no more words from her were shared, although his words sounded like nonsense, somehow... oddly enough, that wasn't exactly incorrect. "...I can trust you." How had these words come into her head? Trust, could this really be called 'trust'? It did seem absurd and beyond fathoming. Perhaps it was only the remains of something before his personality and existence merged with that of 'normal'.
What could be defined as trust between them, is a leap of faith into an ocean of rage and silence, or the feeling of pain and dejection and knowing what is ahead for you. Whatever it is, however and however much she wants it... the feeling or experience that is felt and could happen, could never and could never will get into her soul, insanity has driven them both to the point of leaving reason to itself and not only Zabulus, but she's definitely turning insane, what they were once sure about being certain had become like a door, not as a stepping stone, or as an excuse.