Silhouette of a Wilted Flower

Mortifying

Omori clawed his way out of the puddle.

Hacking and coughing, he pulled himself free from the strands of hair (hair, he realized, was what the tendrils were) that smelled of lavender. Like the way Mari smelled. Like the shampoo she used.

He lay limp on the ground as bleary confusion clouded him. Lavender... Mari always smelled like lavender, didn't she? He couldn't remember. Why was that memory fading? It should be easy to recall when he's with her every day.

Maybe it was such a small detail that it was easy to overlook. Once he saw Mari again, he'd be able to remember.

Wait. Why am I even thinking about this?

Struggling through the puddle...hair...whatever it was, got him dizzy and out of focus. He couldn't let mere morning fog get him so confused. He had to concentrate. Where were his friends?

He finally built up the energy to raise his head only to see the Lost Library. Again.

He heard a splash behind him.

Stranger surged out of the puddle, spitting water. He pulled himself free from the tendrils' grasp and glared at Omori. "You just couldn't let go of that chain for a moment," he snapped.

Omori blinked and realized he still had the chain in hand. Locked in a death grip, actually. He must've dragged Stranger in after him.

Well, good. Maybe he could finally drown like a rat.

Stranger huffed, eyebrows pinched in irritation as he wrung water from fluffy hair, not so fluffy anymore.

Was he wringing that luscious strand so slowly on purpose? But why?! Just what was he trying to do with how he ran fingers through water-soaked hair? How he was letting his skin shine with droplets of water...the way his lips glistened with moisture– What was...

No, what was Omori doing? He ripped his eyes away and forced himself to stand up. He felt hot underneath the cold, wet clothes.

Omori took a breath. In his head, he imagined himself crushing Stranger's powers, crushing his virus-like ability to infect others' thoughts. He would visualize it to materialize it. The same way he did to alter things in Headspace to his liking.

"My, things are changing quickly around here, aren't they?" Stranger's stupid voice broke through Omori's concentration. "You saw, didn't you? The portal? Or did you already repress that?"

Omori had, actually, but he wasn't going to engage with Stranger's goading. Instead, he turned his attention to the Library, scanning the area he'd undoubtedly have to fight another enemy in.

Like last time, Lost Library took on a different design. The stench of growing mold and mildew, mixed with stagnant water, created an unpleasant lingering odor.

The egret orchids looked mushy to the touch and rotted. Even the dead trees looked deader with how their bark seemed sunken in and spongy.

A layer of water splashed beneath his feet, which grew deeper the further down the stairs it went. The very bottom of the library, from what Omori could see, seemed to be where the water was the deepest. Probably deep enough to be unable to stand in.

Omori supposed he should be heading there to face whatever creature would be stupid enough to try and defy him.

Stranger touched a hand to the bookshelves. They were all suffering from various stages of water rot. Omori watched the shade chew his lips in thought as he examined some rotted bindings. He found himself looking for too long at the gentle sinking of teeth into undoubtedly soft lips. He quickly corrected himself.