𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐚𝐦 | 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐑𝐢𝐦/𝐈𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐏

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 at the lake and mother is there. She stares and stares and stares, what the hell does she want?

Too pale, too sickly for her own good and Newt wants to swim to her but he's frozen in place, head held under the water, pin pricks in his eyeballs, his lungs, and she vanishes.

He knows this place far too well, yet still traverses the water with caution he doesn't need. Plant wraps around leg and he heaves and heaves and heaves but he isn't free and oh god this is how it ends.

He heaves and heaves and all that comes is black slush in the bathroom toilet and he screams. So loud that his voice doesn't feel like his own and won't you shut the fuck up, we're trying to help you.

We thought you wanted this, don't you want this? Prove him wrong, prove them all wrong. They will know. You will get your revenge.

Green, grey, black. Green, grey, black. Swirling and swirling, a pool of bio-slurry he knows now. He doesn't want to think, so he turns to mother, but she isn't there. The shell of a woman he knew, he heaves again, black tearing it's way out onto the sand.

He's running.

Run, run, running water, running mouth because he never knew when to shut the fuck up, running red arm as it drips on Illia's nice carpet where he'd feel bad if not for the cause.

And he's sorry he did it but that look on the man's face thinks otherwise and he feels watched from all directions, but when he looks nobody is home to see him heave black once again.

Drip drip drip on Illia's carpet, he feels faint but he can't let go yet, not until he's proved them wrong. He needs to prove them wrong.

The glass is broken.

Bone and flesh and teeth and scales.

The glass is broken.

Black on the carpet, he's ruined it. Illia could never hate him, but he's ruined the carpet just like everything else and he's terrified.

Mother doesn't want him. He sees that now. He cries and heaves and he has to prove them wrong.

Apologies to spiders seem useless.

The glass is broken. He doesn't need to explain himself if he doesn't want to, Illia says. But he sees the look in his eyes, he knows anyway. He can't look away as he heaves black onto the carpet.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did it but please. Please just help me. Stop clearing up the glass and see that I'm fading away. Please.

Mother never left the lake.

The spiders were his only comfort. They crawl around his brain and leave their webs. They render his mind useless, leaving evidence of time passed.

It's been five years since he last called.

Does he not care anymore? Or is Newt just so selfish that he can't even care to reply even a word. He gave up on him. He understands, he's given up on himself too.

Red on the carpet, drip, drip, drip. Mixes with black and disappears.

You have to stop. You'll kill yourself.

That's the point.

The glass is broken. Illia is mad. Illia is never mad, oh God, what has he done?

What the hell have you done?

Red on the carpet. He sees old stains, and he's sure white wool is ruined forever, just like his skin.

They are back. They are back and they will not rest.

A promise that soon they will leave this dying world for another.

And kill that one too.

He heaves black. Illia's poor carpet.

They're in his mind. The spiders are crawling and he can't get them out. Just get out.

You have to stop. You'll kill me.

That's the point.

Bio-slurry rushes past. He's in the lake. Mother is gone. Mother hates him like he does himself. She wanted a daughter, not whatever he is. She never leaves the lake. He's killing himself, but that's the point.

A sac bursts. Emerges from the black, scaled and terrifying. But it's beautiful. You're killing me, but that's the point.

Five years. He doesn't care, nobody cares. He heaves black, the toilet will stain. Tattoos hiding Illia's worries, and he's done with that now, but he's found another way to kill himself without the need to.

What the fuck are you doing, [REDACTED]? You'll kill yourself!

That's the point. Don't call me that. I'm not that anymore.

They're in his head again. A strange comfort he sort of missed. They never care like Illia did. They care like Hermann never did.

He's back at the lake. Plant lets go of leg, and he's sinking. Sinking further and further and he can't see the light anymore, but follow my voice.

Follow my voice, Newton, please. I know you're in there, please. Wake up.

Wake up.

He heaves black.