The Faceless

Die

I've written this so many times, and every time you end up dead. Your story was never meant to be written, to be finished.

I'm going to abandon you in the dark. Figure it out yourself. Figure it out yourself!

You sit down in the darkness that now surrounds you. No more wondrous alien planet. No more voice ringing in your head to keep you company.

The light slips from your mind.

It's utter darkness. You're sitting in a void of emptiness with the darkness being the only thing to console you. What the hell are you going to do now?

Why did they leave you? The god of this strange universe. There are no stories for you to traverse, nothing left of them but the memory. Hey, that sounds vaguely familiar, maybe it was going to be one of the stories you were going to find yourself in.

Huh. There's a faint glow emitting from your hands.

Holy shit, theres a faint glow emitting from your hands.

You look around, using the glow to light up what you're sitting on. It appears to be a carpet of some sort. One of those fringy carpets that always seem to give you the worst carpet burn.

Raising your hand brought a girl into view. She has long brown hair, blood dripping from the bullet hole through her forehead. Her hollow eyes focus on you, and you see they are a wonderful, bright blue. A violet pupil sits in the middle of the iris.

Haven't you read about this somewhere?

Haven't you read about this somewhere?

She smiles at you.

"I have been waiting a long time for the false god to abandon someone. Every single time they bring somebody to the faceless the hallucinogens never wear off in time."

You bring your hand to your face, examining your hair. It isn't black, it's a nice, chocolate brown.

Okay, so, maybe I'm not abandoning you for real.

The world fades back to black.

You open your eyes and suddenly you're in a kitchen. This kitchen has nice, black marble countertops. They seem to be swirling with colors as you examine them.

Best to leave them alone.

You nod, fixing your black, curly hair before looking down at a pot on the stove. Swirling intestines and eyeballs float in the thick ichor.

"Sissy!" You turn to smile at an unfamiliar face. It is your sister, but you don't recognize her face.

"Hi, Dellia." You find yourself saying. Crouching down, Dellia runs to hug you. She giggles as you wrap your arms around her, bringing her into a tight hug.

"Is dinner almost done?"
"Yes, only five more minutes."

You don't know what you're saying, as it isn't your voice talking. It isn't, but you fairly recognize the voice. It's familiar, reminds you of home.

Of course it isn't your voice. You don't have a sister, why would you think it was you standing there?

You aren't in a kitchen, you're back in the carpet burn room. You recognize the face this time.

"They are having a hard time keeping you under aren't they?"

Your vision quickly clears and you move away from the little girl and back to the stew.

"Mommy's ready Dellia."

You ladle out some ichor into a bowl, handing it down to the little girl. Another bowl is poured for yourself, and you sit down at a table you hadn't seen before.

Starting to spoon the ichor into your mouth, you feel a smile creep onto your face.

"I'm glad they left mommy's body with us! I was afraid we'd run out of food before you got a job!" Dellia grinned at you with dark stained teeth.

You nod in agreement, spooning more of the thick mixture into your mouth. You find yourself liking the taste. It's exotic, something you feel you've known all your life yet never tasted. It sends tingles through your body when you swallow, joy to your heart when you take another bite.

It leaves a lasting smile on your face as you think about how proud mother would be of your adaptation. Another spoonful of the salty, bitter ichor, and you realize the bowl is empty.

Pushing your chair away you walk to get more, a dark abyss transporting you off to another story before you could react.