The Final Goodbye

Survival

Drifting.

Existing, but barely.

Father didn't spend all of his time playing tricks on him.

No, Father had other creatures to torture and evil plans to make.

When Father was done 'playing' and made him feel more alone than he ever felt before, Father left him in the endless darkness.

In some ways, the darkness was worse than the torturous images because it allowed his mind to run on its own loop of the worst moments of his life. Even the ones Father hadn't gotten around to torturing him with yet. He tried his best to think about anything else, even mundane business matters or the simple act of scrambling eggs for breakfast every morning, but Father had turned him into a tortured soul that couldn't find any relief.

So he drifted, surrounded by nothing, but seeing everything in his mind's eye. The demons of his mind made him feel even more delusional. He remembered clearly every single horror he wrought in his bid to help or destroy his father. The worst of the worst like killing and administering biological agents that tortured and killed over time. The weapons Triad forged from the pit to kill the protected species, as well as hallucinogens to keep witches in line before that. Those were only part of it. Maybe he deserved all that was happening to him.

Sleep never came in the darkness, of course. To sleep would be to escape from the torture. Father would never allow it.

The darkness held other fears too.

With every sound, terror set in.

Was it a monster coming to wreak vengeance on him for trapping it in the pit at some point during his long life?

Was it his father returning?

Or was he simply imagining the sound?

When his mind nearly reached its breaking point, as it did so many times, he did what he always did when it became too much. He held onto the only thing that could save him.

Muttering under his breath in the darkness, he clenched his eyes shut and whispered over and over, "Hope, come get me out of here. Please, get me out of here."

In his worst moments, when the tiny thread of hope he clung to nearly disappeared, he found himself wishing she would hurry up and destroy his father. He wished she would become the tribrid and take Malivore out forever. In doing so, she would destroy him too, but at least his existential suffering would finally come to an end.

He dared not think of his only other possible saving grace in fear Father might learn of his plan. But the longer he suffered, the more he thought that was no more too. He went into the pit after making that deal. All memories of himself were hence erased. Was the vow even unbreakable anymore? Did the witch even remember making the vow?

Sometimes he imagined Hope showing up with the determination of an avenging angel and taking him out of hell, but he knew that was him playing a trick on himself, not Father.

She wasn't coming for him.

No matter how much he begged her to.

* * *

What the hell am I doing?

Ryan opened the binder and placed it on the stand at the front of the room.

How had he ended up teaching at Salvatore School again? He made it clear to Hope he wasn't interested. A job meant roots, even a temporary job as a substitute. He wasn't looking to build any sort of life at this school again. He wasn't looking to build any sort of life in the supernatural community, period.