Ascensionism

I: Atlantic

~Vessel ~

I don't want to wake up.

The void is where I want to be, sleeping in a sea of stars. It's comforting being here, away from everything. I don't remember my name — who I was or am, and there's something so liberating in that.

The last thing I remember, is blood — hot and sticky on my skin; the sound of it dripping onto the floor beneath me. The feeling of dying and the sensation of fading.

Pure fucking bliss.

Something whispers out of the abyss. I think it's a name. I'm no longer tied to such things.

Something grabs me — it's slick and almost slimy — and panic sets in, and I try to scream as I struggle. Salty water fills my mouth; my lungs, and it's an invasive and violating feeling.

I know you think you're powerless, the voice purrs.

More water fills me, and I know that I'm drowning. I fight against the tendrils, even though I know that I don't stand a fucking chance in hell.

Something caresses my face, causing me to shiver.

Do you feel powerless now?

I open my mouth, and hot liquid fills it, causing me to gag. It's metallic and tastes of salt and rust and decay.

I've seen your heart. The entity continued. I know your desires. Know that you crave violence and power. I can give them to you, you know?

And in return? I demand.

You will be mine. You will belong to me, and I will love you as no one ever has.

They know exactly what I crave, and it's unsettling. I'm afraid of this thing, but something swells in my chest. Hope? The desire to be loved? Truly loved?

You're my vessel. My acolyte if you agree. You can either continue into the void, or live a life you've only dreamed of and spread my message.

I know what my answer is, and so do They. They found the chinks in my armor. The one thing I've always wanted.

I can't remember any of the good times of my life. Only the worst. The most painful.

Let me devour you, and you will be remade.

There's nothing I want more.

My bones begin to break before I'm ripped apart. Nothing can describe this pain, and I beg for death. I made a mistake. I want to die.

They peel my skin from my flesh, before consuming the tough bloody muscles beneath. All there is, is teeth and biting pain, and viscera.

They swallow up my insides, slicing open the membrane they sit in. They drink my blood, taking every part of me. I'm nothing. I'm no one. I don't exist.

And I'm not sure I can feel anything anymore.

There's nothing left.

*

"He's going into cardiac arrest!"

The voices that surround me now are different. Human, I realize.

There's an annoying beeping, the sound of machinery. A dull sound replaces it, announcing that I've flatlined.

People are screaming around me. Touching me. Compressing my chest. Filling me with electricity.

My heart starts beating again.

And, when I open my eyes, I'm blinded by artificial lighting. Something turns in my stomach, working its way up. I can't move. Not yet, and I vomit blood all over myself.

The nurses hurriedly turn me onto my side, and I empty my stomach. Blood mixed with salt water.

I can't seem to get enough air into my lungs. I take huge, gasping breaths, and even then it's not enough. I still feel like I'm drowning. I'm still being pulled into the abyss.

Fight, the voice of my master tells me.

When my eyes open again, the lights are turned off. There's a tube in my throat, making it impossible to breathe, to function.

Sitting up, I pull the tube from my throat, fighting the terrible feeling. I tumble out of bed and rid myself of whatever isn't in my stomach in a nearby waste basket.

Something tugs at my arm, and I yank the IV out. My arms are wrapped in bandages, stained with something dark. They span my forearms, from my elbows to my wrists.

Something like hunger swirls in my stomach.

Sitting up on my knees, I try not to remember the agony. The meeting of whatever entity meet me in limbo.

You saved me.

Yes, they answer.

Why?

They don't answer me right away, but that's fine. I need to get my bearings. I'm clearly in the hospital, but I can't remember anything. My brain is empty of memories that should be there.

There's nothing inside me. I'm empty, waiting to be filled.

"You're awake,"

My head snaps up, and I find a woman standing in the doorway of the room. There's something ethereal about her, though I can barely see her in the shadows.

"That's good. Means you survived your death, and now you can move onto bigger and better things."

Her voice reverberates around my brain, bouncing off its bare walls.

"Like what?"

She moves into the room and takes my hands. She lifts them and I want to lash out at her. I don't want to be touched. Not by her at least.

As she bends over me, she pushes my hair away from my forehead. Her nails dig into my jaw as she grabs it, pulling me so I'm standing. And even though I'm considerably taller than her, she commands me.

Her talons draw blood.

There's something painfully sexual about this. About her hurting me.

"You are a vessel of Sleep. You serve Them now. You will do whatever They want you to."

"Anything," I agree.

"Now feel Them. Let Them love you."

And I surrender myself to euphoria.