EVE'S APOLOGY || OPLA

𝟬𝟬 | 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

C H A P T E R   Z E R O

Prologue

Episode 000
( — )

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001. THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL,
the sins — how would they entice the weak of mind otherwise? With curved tusks and skin mottled gray but, still, beautiful.

Anger is incandescent with fire and promises that issues can't arise from what has been destroyed. Lust and greed — green as Neptune's oceans, the colour of the early forests with dew fresh on the leaves — welcome their sinners with open arms, fine silks and bright jewels. Gluttony has the dignity of a king attending a party made to celebrate his existence with the might of a royal feast composed by the only being whose fullness truly matters — itself. Envy is the colour of blue diamonds, expensive and luxurious, and Pride only laughs out how else would we make you fall?

002. EVERYONE HAS SWORN
to be virtuous but what are they, if not miscreant?

Like Cain blames the judge for the execution he merely carried out, reprobate separate the means from the end unaware that they are predestined for damnation. In the final judgment, their sins roll in like the credits of a film and a divine chorus murmurs you lied, you lied.

003. WILL MANKIND REPENT?
The sinners are still waiting. Their skin is peeling from their bones, and their eyes, swollen, pop from their skulls. The smell can be covered with perfume but the rot will always be there, just under the surface, waiting for another layer to decay.

So, when they talk of the seven deadly sins and how they ruin what was pure, think about how mankind should repent.

004. SHE IS SEARCHING
for something bigger in these hollow halls, blaring teeth with bitter blood staining her clothes.

She begs for a last piece of help with her unholy mouth, hands exploring shadows which melt against her so no one knows where darkness ends and she starts, the prerogative of a sinner haunted by measly retribution.

She begs for help again — she claws at a thin thread of hope that the prophets that had sang of her and carved out the image of those before had listened to her plea behind the roaring of the ocean against her cries and the hiss of the serpent that begot her — and no one answers. No one can help her.

005. SHE BEGS TO BE SAVED,
and only more torment is shoved down her throat to keep her silent. It's only when she mauls her penitence that she's handed a last opportunity at salvation without compunction in the shape of protecting the prelapsarian plenitude of five dreams.