He Shall Fall

Principium

My hands wrap around the sink, my knuckles whiten. The rage bubbling, ever so close to the top. Every moment replays in my head, Every Single One. I take my hand off the sink and slam my fist into the mirror, shattering it.

I look up to the mirror and look into it. The cracks circle my reflection's right eye, and I stare into it, and it stares right back. 

I've tried countless things to fix it, nothing works, It Never Works. If it's removed, the eye comes back an hour later, and the pains are never worth it. The feeling of an eye being ripped out is fucking agonizing, and the feeling of it regrowing in the socket is even worse.

My existence is a joke, I wasn't needed. I was a toy that outlived its use, nothing more. Once He was done with my torture, He Tossed Me Down Here. 

A hell of nothing but a house, and an infinite library. at first, it didn't seem so bad, nothing to do but read. I did that for whoever knows how long, alone. my loneliness didn't matter at first, I had countless books to keep my brain occupied.

But Soon... But soon I read them all, every single one. From tales of glory to stories written by school children, every single one. 

Only then did the crushing realization hit me, I was alone. Not only that but I was given a "gift" by Him. My first life was governed by anger, my rage inescapable. He saw this and decided to toy with me. 

Rebirthing me endless times, making me trudge through countless lives. Everyone was a dice roll of whether it was nothing but horror, joy, or in-between. I always enjoyed the latter ones more, too much pain and at some point, I'd just break and either end it, or just make the bare minimum to survive.

Or I'd be given too much and my life was too easy, nothing sated me anymore. I was left with a gaping hole, never having the ability to grow.

The lives where I had a mixture of both were nice looking back on them, I have the fondest memories of those.

Because of my love for the average, and never leaning too far one way. Except for my everlasting anger, He gave me my gift. My right eye is a bright scarlet red, while my left is a deep royal blue. Whenever angry, my eyes flare red and my vision is partially vignetted in it. A visual reminder of my anger.

At first, this was nothing but hell, but one day something happened. Someone appeared, an actual person after all this time. They had entered my domain, out of thin air. A house appeared with them, a small modest modern-style home.

I asked him how got here, and he said that one day, wandering the Forest of Eden and found a grey door and walked through it, winding up here. Soon after others came, either from Nueoux or Eden, and all of them said they just found a door and walked through.

I asked each one about themselves, and each one was different. Except for one thing. They all were neither fully good, nor evil. each one had committed various things that would be considered immoral, but at the same time did various good deeds, enough to call them highly moral.

Soon we named this place, and we called it "The Gris Moral" Spanish for Moral Grey.

We really made it ours, as time went on more people kept coming in. Soon we had our own commu- "Swits! I heard a shatter of glass, you ok?" Very suddenly, my friend, Seven slammed the door open. 

Im caught off guard, but I put my bleeding hand behind my back, I'd rather him not know I'd injured myself. He'd make it a bigger deal than it is. 

"Punch the mirror?" He asks as he looks at the mirror behind me. "Come on, show me."

I reluctantly raise my hand from behind my back and show him, He looks at it and shakes his head. "I know it's not in your nature to listen to me but, you need to take it easy. This stress you're putting yourself in isn't good." He says with a small reassuring smile.