Chapter 104: The Corpses' Conspiracy

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In the Dark Forests of a Darker Mind, a Place Where Time has no Meaning

The daughter, the sister, the half broken off from the whole, looked upwards at her other self, her mother, her sister, the half that had been retained, hanging as if crucified on a crooked tree. Her limbs were broken and disjointed, and her body was fused with the bark, such that it wasn't obvious where vegetation ended and flesh began. She held one hand against where her navel would've been, and listened intently to her sister's ramblings while making her best attempt to communicate with the one who saw but did not watch, who heard but did not listen. At times, she could swear that the other Aisha could understand her, her mumblings sounding almost like a response, and her eyes seeming almost to lock on her other self before glazing over to something a thousand yards away.

Just as she seemed to be making progress, the hanging corpse's eyes locked onto something firmly, and flashed with a violet glow.

She had been discovered.

"RUN!"

What remained of her crooked chest began to heave. Shallow breaths came and went as she began to hyperventilate, her lungs pushing up against the bark that trapped her. She was starting to panic, but so was her shadow.

The remnant spoke to the nameless presence that had guided her through these woods, never taking her eyes off her sister, "What can we do for her?"

HOPE AND PRAY. NOTHING ELSE CAN BE DONE.

With no one else to turn to, she directed her prayers at the one upon the tree, "Run, please! Don't let him win! Don't let him get you! You'll never live the life you want. You'll never be able to!"

Rather than bringing comfort to the hanging woman, her face only became increasingly distorted with fear, her chest moving faster than before. More than a deer in the headlights, her eyes were like headlights in of themselves; shining out towards the encroaching darkness in a feeble attempt to keep the monster at bay.

But the monster did not fear her gaze. In fact, one could even say that he relished it. Her tears, her sweat, her terror, were all liquor on his lips.

Her breast stiffened, her heaving chest coming to a halt. For a moment, all was still. Then, what was left of her breath slipped out of her ruby lips as a slow, creeping squeal, which rose in crescendo to become a full scream of pain, of terror, as her head began to turn, her elbows bending in the wrong direction, the bones of her body and branches of her tree creaking and contorting unnaturally, the bark spreading like fire across her bare flesh. The scream reached its climax and, just as her observer thought her heart and ears would both burst, it came to a close, not with a snap, but with a shatter. The flesh which had not been totally consumed, part of her shoulder, one of her breasts and half of her face broke like porcelain and fell at her feet.

She stared at the eye laid within the broken face. It gazed back up at her with little more vacancy than had been there before.

The woman, herself incomplete, felt a tear run down the one side of her face that had flesh.

GO ON. PICK UP THE PIECES.

"I'm scared."

OF WHAT? YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD, WITH NO LIFE TO LOSE. OR ARE YOU AFRAID THAT WITH A SECOND LIFE WILL COME A SECOND TRAGEDY?

"I am."

TELL ME, SHADOW. MAKE YOUR DECLARATION. WILL YOU TAKE WHAT REMAINS AND REBUILD, OR WILL YOU CONTINUE TO SLEEP IN YOUR SHALLOW GRAVE? WILL YOU BE A VICTIM, OR WILL YOU BE AN AVENGER?

The 'life' she had now was a peaceful existence. She had no will of her own, no responsibilities, no pain. She could wander this endless forest for ages and slowly fade away, ignorant of anything else. If or when the man who brought her here died, she would simply cease to be, instantly, painlessly, without any awareness whatsoever as to his final moments. She could wander this dream, not even asleep, but dead. Without aim, without pain, without ambition or disappointment; without even a dream.

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