The Ballads of The Skeleton Crew

The Ballad of the Origin (4|6)

(№4.6)

And before the venerable counsel of numerous gods continued to arrange the glorifying, undignified debacle to a festive ostentation exhibiting the intense dimension of the extensively creative cruelty they could come up with, if any mortal was to dare answer the revolutionary call of mutiny, this drive secretly dormant in more humans than they would have ever anticipated, regarding the iron-clad ruling fist of parlous gods claiming a realm never ought to belong under their regimen in the first place, brazenly even destroying one of theirs to seal the sin of their fate.

Her fate, that is. Young gods were bland and dire with futility and void, circling thoughts, so of course it could have been only the girl instigating this horrendous ploy against his tried and true family.

First things first, they could not let a weakness, a loophole to their dominion flee and see to another idea, so they tackled the task of asking harshly how it was even possible to liquidate a god altogether, a god whom shall never wither and languish, decimated to the despicable tyche of the fragile living, forlorn a place they shall never follow, ironically quite, for humans would once all be united back with their loved ones, while they would not.

They could pout and lose and grieve now just like humans, definitely for now, while the human folk at last will never be bereft of any, borrowed time that seemed lost returned in a sense of infinity no god could ever fathom. Their sorrow unlike, would last forever.

Perhaps that made humans surpass even the ruthless, infinite, praised prowess of mere, floating energy and rendered them in a sense powerful, because they demanded and interrogated these devoted lovebirds, in this Ballad of the Origin, of their surprising fundamentally-rotating triumph in succeeding to defy a very goddess, and yet no answer escaped out of the pressed lips of that foolish brave little girl and alike no noise escaped the throat of the lost son they had fed and raised, invidious and insolent both these children attempting to withstand the probing claws of the gods to claim verity in a crime of deceit, but it would have probably offended them much less, if the defence hadn't been so terribly persistent and obnoxiously stubborn to make it quick for the both of them.

Torture, torment, mind games, hallucinations of how monsters and rabid animals gobbled up their flesh, horrible intense simulations showing the gods in the act of killing the other did not ease their tongues nor soothe the mind to cease such suffering. Somehow they curated an unknown source of strength prevailing endurance. 

Of course, they were strictly separated, not a word, not a quick glance was granted in the horror mansion only sparsely and  withstanding the aggravated effects of the bruising trauma inflicted on this world, unravelling while the gods failed to garner progress every counted day.

The girl – hung in the dungeons on her ankles, rusty nails in her shackles - upside down until the blood reddened her cheek the colour of effervescing lava and her feet gone to sleep – found comfort in the thought of them being in the unknown on how to kill a god, so at least he was safe, safe and sound as one could be with threatening apocalypse. No scars were laid on that flawless skin of his, no fracture that wasn't curable, wouldn't heal on his meticulous bronzed skin. Short answer: He was safe as one could be in the spotlight of rage.

On other hand were the Gods perfectly free to do whatever they preferred with her, something the boy was acutely aware of, albeit it was their highest priority if not neglecting the fact to make him painfully remember that, a daily token of her body was brought to him, ripped out of the remaining shambles miraculously left after the torture underwent, all due to the fact he fell in love and involved her in his personal misery. It was his fault the world would collapse, and his alone if they were to neglect the toll each action took on her body and would extend the point of bearable severity of her injuries till a point, where the damage was proven fatal and her mind would break.