Healing Blitzo

The First Simulacra

When Rachmiel accepted his post in Hell, he braced himself for the culinary horrors that awaited. He imagined dishes that would challenge even an angel's iron stomach. To his relief, Hell's kitchens offered familiar fare alongside their bizarre specialties. A pig was still a pig, which meant bacon—though here, the pigs wore scales, the grease dripped like oil, and the bacon chewed like squid.

Though there were some limits.

"You sure you don't want some, Rachmiel?" Millie asked as she continued carving up the roasted bug-bear creature, which was as big as a car. Millie had decided to go hunting and personally killed the beast and cooked it with Moxxie forn brunch. The smell was similar to venison, but the fact that they kept the eyes and melted the organs inside the carved stomach for broth was too much.

"I think I'll stay with eggs and bacon," Rachmiel replied with a polite if disturbed smile.

"Heh, pussy," Loona said as she one into one of the sliced legs.

"Morning," Stolas greeted as he walked into the dining room with his robe on. He accepted a cup of hot coffee.

"How's Blitz?" Octavia asked while typing on her phone.

"Still staying in bed," Stolas sighed as he sat down to sip. "He still just stays in bed. We occasionally talk, but most of the time he's quiet."

"He's processing what he saw. He needs time," Rachmiel said as he put his silverware down. "He needs to be ready himself for the next phase, and I'd rather he be fully prepared for it on his own time than rushing it."

"The Simulacra, right?" Stolas asked before tilting his head. "I've done reading about it. How exactly do you create the perfect replica of the beings to talk to in memory?"

"Most of it is done by the memory of the person who is talking to them. However, in Blitz's case, he's regressed to the point of forgetting his worst memories, so he never had an accurate representation of his family to do it. By having him remember the day they all died, and all the important memories leading up to it, he gets to speak to them as if they come back to life in a sense. That's the main key. They're going to help him find peace with their deaths."

"Can't you just summon their spirits to do that in the first place?" Loona asked.

"First off, I can't do that. Second, bringing a spirit from their eternal rest, even a demonic one, is dangerous. The spirit is at rest in a state of peace and tranquility. Tearing them from that would be like flashbanging them or dumping them in cold water. They would be confused, angry, and irrational. There is a reason why the Bible forbids magic like necromancy and evocation. Do you know how dangerous and rampaging a spirit is when it's mad? Look up the Amityville Horror or the Enfield Poltergeist."

"Yeah, I don't want ghosts traveling in my halls. Last time that happened, my parents grounded me for eight years," Stolas grumbled with a shiver.

"But Dad can't just stay in bed forever," Loona whispered as she shook her head. "Maybe we should convince him."

"He'll pull around, Loona," Moxxie said with a reassuring smile. "If there is one thing you can say about Blitz, it's that he never stays down for too long.

***

Blitzo was no stranger to pain—physical, mental, or emotional. Last week's ordeal ranked among the worst he'd ever endured. The ache lingered, but each day dulled it a little more.

The memories he'd buried since the day he lost his family had clawed their way back to the surface. He'd stopped fighting them—he had to, if he wanted to heal. Blitzo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, alone for once. Stolas had gone to breakfast with the others, leaving Blitzo to his solitude.