A note of some details before we get into the chapter:
This is not an isekai, nor is it a genderbend story. Everything has a reason.
Italics = Voices she can hear
'Italics' = Her own thoughts
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"The space between worlds is no place for mortal men" - Ancestor, Darkest Dungeon
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Los Santos is a morally bankrupt city of violence and chaos. Gang warfare is rampant, crime rate is high, and many try to be the next big thing, not realizing, or more so not caring, about the consequences of their actions among the people around them. Some cause chaos more than others, but at the end of the day, chaos is a required law in the world. Some people, however, wish things were different, praying for peace and serenity, either finding what they seek or falling into depravity like the rest of them, whether willing or not. This is the unfortunate case for Alexandra Kennedy, a-
"Shut up."
The injured woman says, as she slowly falls to her side, bruising her skin slightly.
"That's gonna hurt in the morning. Heh, not like I'll live much longer."
'A depressing thought, but sadly true.' The Malnourished woman attempts to put pressure on the wound in her shoulder, dragging the limp flesh towards her body. The pain was immense, almost unbearable. At least, to most it would be.
She has sustained many wounds during her time on the streets, using drugs to ease the injuries, eventually numbing both body and mind alike. No wonder you were stealing, you pathe-
"Enough. I'm already dying. The least you can do is let me fucking rest."
But you did this to yourself, you idiot. Why the fuck would we stop insulting you? Clearly, if they worked you'd have already put yourself back together. Yet here you are, in the alleyway of a desolate street, so close to those that could help but never reaching out. At this point, why not just give up? You're completely useless.
Through her blurry eyes, she can see 5 shadowy figures. They have no discernable traits, other than the emotions on their face, twisted beyond belief, and dripping a shadowy substance that fades slowly into nothingness. The creatures that haunt her mind have slowly taken over during the long years of drug abuse. While on some form of high, sure, they go away for a while. But they always return eventually, only to torture her again, and it NEVER gets better, but worse.
It is an endless cycle of pity and hatred, all bared towards herself. She doesn't want the drugs; she NEEDS them. It's the only thing that keeps her sane-at least relatively. She was doomed to spiral, destined to fall apart piece by piece. In her wailing cries and pleas for help, she found no salvation, only ruin.
The fractures of her mind slowly spread apart, enlarging the rift in her already unstable mental state. As she bleeds out on the ground, she wonders what her life would be like with the love and care of an actual family. One that didn't die from the horrible violence that plagues the city of Los Santos. One that wasn't connected to the rotted acts of the crime syndicates and gangs scattered around.
Pointless thoughts in the end. Should've taken what you could get, and now that you're in this position, complaining is your last resort? You deserve everything that comes your way.
And you're malnourished, too. Why didn't you steal food instead of money? Oh, wait, more drugs. That checks out. Seriously, how stupid can one truly be? It's like you're not even trying.
And speaking of stealing, why not steal from others? You might as well. Anything for more, right? Your body CRAVES it, and will take any means necessary to get that wonderful high. Or is that just you?
As they speak such vitriolic words, they inflict new wounds, her mental scars bursting open as if an artery was cut. The darkness of her brain slowly encapsulates her skull in its entirety, head throbbing even worse than her shoulder. They continue to spew petrol into her, and she lit the flame that burned her soul. She looks up towards the figures, all snickering at her
"I give up. Hopefully there isn't an afterlife. I don't want more fucking torture."
She closes her eyes, consciousness rapidly fading, until darkness holds dominion.
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"Ah, that foolish woman finally broke!"
A peculiar existence sits in the confines of... somewhere, watching as the girl who hə had attempted to break time and time again, had finally fallen victim to mental decay. The figure, smiling strangely, lifts h?s hands, using the malicious energy gathered around the poor human whose mind lay shattered, to make a portal.
It took too long. Now to finally enter this world, and feast on its-"
As the strange being says this, what can only be described by others as a miracle happened. A soul, recently deceased yet somehow conscious of its current state, entered through the slowly growing portal, able to fit through by millimeters. Surprised by this turn of events, the figure attempts to grab the soul, failing to realize that through h!s thoughtless action, the portal and energy so painstakingly created, faded into the abyss.
"BAH! Now I must do this all over again. I truly despise surprises. If only that man had what everyone else did, I wouldn't be here attempting this trickery. Oh well, it shouldn't take as long, seeing her previous state."
The being, saying this, starts to ever so gently attempt to probe back into the mind of the defenseless girl, but to h!s surprise, the connection failed. It's as if her mind was gone...
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'Fuck, everything almost went to shit there. Need to remember. I can't forget. Can't FUCKING FORGET'
The soul, now through the portal, slowly looks around itself, organizing its thoughts. Eventually, its gaze lands on the broken girl in the alley, wheezing like she's never taken a fresh breath in her life. She's passed out on the cold floor, pale from the blood loss, though miraculously it seems to have stopped.
'Malnourished and wounded. Multiple needle marks up and down her arms. This motherfucker's dying, and it ain't just because of the pellets in her shoulder.'
The soul, almost as if entranced, slowly moves his hands towards her head.
'Don't know how or why I was lured here, but all fingers point towards her. It's strange. I don't know this girl, yet it seems she possesses some kinda spiritual power. Don't know how I can feel it. My best guess is because I'm a fucking spirit. Dragged out of a forced retirement by some motherfucking hoodoo-voodoo, just for this shit. God-damned magic. I hate this shit... Well, at the end of the day, it seems I have this girl to thank for the save. Probably would've gone to hell, knowing my track record. I need to wake her up somehow... I know possession is possible, so maybe if I...!'
As the soul touches the body of the wounded woman, it begins to merge with her very being, almost like a parasite. As it clings and morphs, the girl screams out in pain, loud enough for everyone to hear from blocks away. But even in the afternoon, sun high in the sky, nobody arrives, for Los Santos is a cold place. Eventually, the two souls merge, the soul of the man stuck into every shattered crevice of the girl's. As the soul attempts to move, his actions cause a piercing screech to bellow through the air, stopping him in his tracks like a dog to a chain. He is unable to escape.
'...Well ain't this just fucking great. A lapdog once again.'