SRθ: Grim Inquiries (2023-2024)

Sit.32: The Whimpering Held

I fell asleep once more, and another dark dream plagued me. In a faraway world of monsters, with spotted skin and tentacles like octopi, was a young man like myself – one eye and sharp teeth, not withstanding. He wore a branching black scarf, like a shroud, and he craved theatre, change, coin, and food. Unlike myself, he ate all of it, no pickier than a scavenger at a royal feast... and in his world, a royal feast it was, on every corner. When theatre (his true passion) impressed him none, he'd shout!
"YOUR ERRORS DEMAND CORRECTION," he'd bellow at the careless, quivering actors, too focused on their pay and saving face to truly immerse in their roles.
He was also unlucky in love, frequently passed aside for those more rare and inviting – even those who figured him for a shallow and handsome artist were disgusted to find him genuine, true, and effeminate in nature. So a virgin he remained, and by himself he'd pleasure daily, whilst crying for those lost and doomed encounters; and he cursed himself for the pink pang in his blood-pumper which called itself 'love' - the source of all his woes. It was unique to him, and none few or too scarcely did all other monsters feel it. I thought us friends, him and I, even one... until something in my forehead, legs, back, and chest started to dissolve – it was like stiff, damp branches in my very flesh, crackling and shifting inside me. It suddenly filled itself with my fluids, and melted away as if they were acid to it. So he disappeared, and I reasoned that our connection had been cut by our 'connective tissue' being lost. But I saw myself in him, despite his monstrosity, and him in I.

Then I was in my present again, his past, but not quite all the way. After my own death, I saw a terrible darkness upon the globe... and yet it was bright as day. But something, SOMETHING, had darkened upon man, woman, elder, and child... and I was unable to see them. I could only hear the screams, shrieking, pained moaning, and terrified whispers. It was like thousands of people being whipped, defiled, and beaten all at once by each other, each retaliating in turn with a harder swing and tighter fist. A louder yell, a more blood-curdling scream. And it escalated onwards, infinite, never-ceasing, until soon the world itself was swallowed whole by the glinting, misty dark, crackling with reddish, purple lightning. Heeding the call were sorcerers, magicians, shamans, and the like, all donned by their caps and robes. The knights, the soldiers, the infantrymen, all were useless against it for they were too busy bloodying each other and shedding more blood. The magic-users tried to fight each other, at first, flinging fantastical glowing elements at each other; all hoping that in the other's defeat lied the key to lifting the darkness ever-growing... but when that failed, they banded together and tried to fight the darkness itself. Like a cloud it evaded them, leading them to uselessly fling elements burning, singeing, and wetting at themselves. It was only the light of peace, held by a single, battered few huddled together, that kept the darkness at bay. But by the time they found their solution, the conjuring magicians had their minds swallowed by rage and seething hate for each other. They became jealous of that light, envious for its simplicity and joy. They wanted to know why the light didn't belong to them, instead. And when the conjurers found them, in their safe haven, they were slaughtered – all the peaceful ones were put to death, for their mercy, and they were no more than children.

I awoke with sweat on my body, and a start in my ribs. Heart beating, POUNDING, like a hammer inside. This vision was unlike the others, so far from now, so distant – this was coming SOON. And in many ways, it was already here. But so was something else, or someone: The Mystic, sitting at my desk, reading my journallings by candlelight. I stared at her and she heard me shifting in bed. Her black hair lifted gently as she turned her head to see me.
"Is this true?" she asked me, eyes red and watering. Like she'd been crying. "Did you really see all of this?"
I stared for a moment, unsure if this was some kind of trick. "Aye," I croaked finally. "I wish I hadn't."
She wiped her eyes with her palms, and blew out the candle. "Come with me," she said. "I need to show you something."