The Mask Of Beauty and Rage (Brahms X Greta)

Chapter 23 - A Little Help

Countless promises had been made on both ends. Both hoped the other would stay and the other might leave. Promises are never meant to be broken nor have the feeling of potential betrayal in the back of your mind. The feeling of secureness was important, and Brahms needed to feel secure from his Greta. Trust is earned not given on the spot of demand. It was fear that always held him back from letting his closed mind open up to possibilities he didn't even know existed. Greta gave him this opportunity to think as if he was a normal person without the demons taking over. It took work, so much work, it was utterly exhausting at times, but she made it easy for him. From what was once a dark cave, he entered it, over and over, but never found his way out. Every time he tried to leave the fear and anguish he held; it would constantly change paths making his way to freedom even more difficult. There was never any life in the abyss and no light would ever grow. The constant replay of this scene would soon shatter because of the power her had over his mind now.

He had this dream before, many times. He'd be trapped in utter darkness that decayed with every step he took. He felt as though he was drowning, he would feel the water circling him in waves. Deep within the trench only rested his death mark. He didn't want to claim it, he wasn't ready, who would be ready? No, not him, he wanted to live. Death's hands dragged him down, deeper into the waves of hell. They crawled and clawed at his face, trying to tear off the mask and show the demon behind it. A new arrival was on the edge of collapsing into utter despair and he would become one of them, fully. He would thrash and try to scream and plead, but no one seemed to hear his cries for help. It would always end the same way, he would succumb to this fate, and he would give up because he felt as though time was never on his side. His savor never returned to him, he's been waiting and waiting but the light never appeared above him. It had been years of reliving this dreadful situation of becoming more and more evil every day. To feel nothing but hate and anger because they sent his savor away. How can his parents be so cruel, how could everyone he's ever encountered be so vile inside and out? The odd ones were always left to suffer within a world of their own because no one wanted them. Time was slow and it was never on his side. Over twenty years had gone by as he stayed at the bottom of the dark ocean with the demons he was now used to. He did not cry because he had no more tears, he did not fight because he didn't have the strength, but he did not lose all his faith. As much as he always hated to admit it, he knew she'd return one day, but when? Just as the darkness conquered his weakened soul, he'd looked up at the faraway light he was never meant to have, because she never came back.

This would happen on a never-ending loop of misery and desire to taunt him. As if he was always meant to be chained to the bottom of the abyss without having the privilege of seeing the light, he desperately wished to see it again. After years of waiting in the dark and trapped by his red eyes demons that held him down, the light from high above the surface of the water. They taunted him, yes, it was their doing, their cruel games playing tricks on him. To keep his spirits down, they did not want him to lift his sorrow because the taste of suffering would vanish from their lips. It was something he was used to though, by now it was just a continuation of this terrible dream he created himself. Brahms was torturing himself and by this time he didn't know how to stop killing himself from the inside.

One year later he recalled it so well, that there was a shift in the tides, and a massive blow of air rushed to his masked face. Someone was here and that only increased his heart rate exponentially.

He remembered looking up and there he saw the light. The blood in his body started to flow once more as the life he once had was reconvening. It was so bright, but he was so far away. The determination and willpower to flee from the hold the red-eyed demons had over him was strong. They always tried to stop him, and they would always win, but not this time. Brahms broke free from these chains that held him down. With fists of fury and all mighty strength, he took over and conquered these binds. Force driven purpose to reach the light was essential and he had no more time to waste.