Stuff and Things

Ununtrium

The 113th element of man's periodic table. A synthetic element with no use, and short life span. Made artificially and cannot be obtained in the natural world. Ununtrium.

He thought over and over about many things, but pushed the biggest thoughts down by listing the elements that humans found or created. He achieved counting and describing up to number one hundred thirteen, ununtrium.

Trying desperately to control himself, he stared as his hands above the sink. They stung with a dull pain which freshened itself with every breath he took in and out. The water burned fiercely when he shoved his hands beneath the cloudy water again, hissing in a most animal like manner. But he did not cry out. He did not grimace. He was emotionless as a glorified stone wall.

Arms moved out from the water, perhaps with a disgusted and painful recoil. Black oil gushed from the scalded skin of his forearms. He did not flinch but studied the black liquid's trail and movement with nothing to show from his eyes or face.

The water was cold. Not the cold I have been used to for so many years. No. Simply not cold enough.

Crackling shimmers appeared over the mirror, flawing the once perfect twin of the man in the mirror. The water in the sink, cloudy with black oil slowed and crunched to a halt. The condensation upon every surface cracked into frost. Cold. Icy.

He looked up, finally, at the mirror. His reflection was broken by the foreign ice that invaded the room. He did not react upon seeing someone else staring back.

Such a weak pathetic excuse of a person. You are so precious.  A voice hissed through the frozen atmosphere, like fire sizzling against something cold. The cool irony put into such a smooth voice was an offset for the whispers that talked below. You know they never last as long as you will. Why must you care for such pitiful things... Nothing ever lasts...
With  y o u.

And just with the last wretched though, a loud crack like a gunshot reverted the atmosphere. A normal room that was about seventy degrees Fahrenheit.

He still stood there. Rock still. Staring at nothing with a blind eye and a healthy one. But he looked down and registered his bloody forearms. Black ichor ran down and pulsed forth after every breath, a substitute for a heart beat. He could have acted surprised about his self harm but did not.he simply let the sink drain, turned off the light, and walked to the living room. His arms dripped ichor all the while.

The man did not feel well as facts dawned upon that he was,in fact, not invincible to blood loss. How many times did he do it this time? How-

A shocked exclamation from his brother snapped his attention, if somewhat delayed. The other hurried and tried to get him to sit down, to explain why it happened again. Its been weeks. He heard. And you still burn yourself with holy water. You still commit self harm. What is wrong with you?! Why can't you let something insignificant go!

He simply stared blankly forward. His vision began to become dominated by hazy black splotches as the blood loss took effect. Ignoring protests, he seemed to relapse into some sort of introduction. He opened his mouth, and spoke for the first time in weeks.

"I am Uno Unnomni. I cannot foretell what I will instinctively do, but I may see the past and future. Sometimes they overlay. I do not wish to continue my miserable husk of a being in these worlds, especially Earth. He grows stronger, and I can feel something called fear again. I am no more human than the water is metal. I am eternal. I am...
Lost."