The Lives That I Have Lived

The Fourth (PT. 2)

"Dear Mom and Pop,

I got your letters finally, they came in a bundle from the postmaster. I'm sorry I haven't been able to write back. These past few months have been hellish. The commander keeps shipping us off to do recon in the mountains of Japan. Sometimes if I think hard enough I can smell your apple pies and cakes. It's funny what having nothing makes you remember. Anyways, I'm doing well enough. I haven't heard from Willie in a few days, last I had known he was swamped in the medical bay. I cant tell you how good it is to know that he is nearby. Remember how much of a pout he gave when they told him he was going to be a medic and not in an outfit like myself. He got lucky.

I hope you guys are ok, I'm sure times are tough back home with the war going on. I'm sure you guys are getting by just fine. As for Willie and me, we get by as best we can. He is stuck amongst the dead and dying, and I'm lucky if I don't wind up on one of his beds.  Despite how terrible this war is, we are alright, so dont go worrying. We both love you very much.

                                       See you soon,                                                          Rudolph"

It was a rare rainy day, the water left smudges on that note that I sent to my family back home. I can remember the overwhelming glee that the bundle of letters gave me. It was three weeks before the war had came to such an abrupt halt. Three weeks before I witnessed the true extent of humanities hatred for all that was different. All that opposed. I had seen war before, battle was no stranger. In fact it was the closest I could be to who I was. But after those bombs dropped, all those unworthy of such violent murders, after those souls vanished without so much as a flickering light, everything about how I viewed the world changed. What once was calm became calamity. Light to dark, glee to disappointment. Out of all the lives that I had lived leading to this, no other had caused such shock to my very core. For years i thought no other experience would leave me in such horror. Until i met him.

I had recently returned back from my deployment. My mother and father greeted my brother first, then myself as I exited the ship moments after Willie. Things went as well as expected. Poor Wilhelm had nightly terrors of his patients rising from the dead and dragging him to hell. I chose not to speak of the horrors I had witnessed. Out of respect for both those I killed, and my own sanity.
Months seemed to just drift by, like a lazy ride down a calm stream. Something was missing. Though I couldn't think of what it was, the feeling of perpetuating emptiness was always lingering like storm clouds.
Until one night I had a dream. Sounds childish to call it a vision or dream, but that's what it was. My teachings, the foundation on which I had obsessed over for lifetimes, was calling to me. So I answered. Weeks felt like days as I delved into my memories to remake my dream. And at last I had concocted the perfect rune. Little did i know that this specific rune wasn't just an ordinary symbol. It was the acceptance of evil. Allowing a demon, any demon, to gain half of yourself in exchange for powers beyond what could be taught. And ever so naively I followed my visions commands to the letter.

A month has passed since I began my preparation for this ritual, one to which I had set purely to a dreams specifications. How I  wish my mother had warned me of the darker spirits, and their deceitful ways. Perhaps I wouldn't have fallen for this silver tongued snake.

However that is a choice I will have to continue existing with.

His name was, is, Astaroth. And I fell lower then ever before when I accepted this silver tongued snakes wishes for my own gain. Foolishly I summoned him, at the time persuading myself that I had full control of this outcome. The preparation for this ritual took days to gather, everything had to be perfect so I could eliminate all certainty of failure. In the weeks and days leading up to our unfortunate meeting I thought it best to isolate myself from those closest to me. My family had always known I was the solitary type, but they never understood why, that those few days, I completely cut them out of my life. And I'm glad I had. I could never have known what would happen, would actually be done.

The night of April 5th, 1950. My offerings surrounded by a painstakingly built summoners circle. All incantations where read in the old language, to most it would take years of indulgence to understand, luckily I was well versed in this type of language. It was a clear night. The moon was at the perfect wanning stage for such an endeavour.  The ritual went as planned, and once I had made a connection to the demon I sought out I began something I would later come to regret, for rest of that life and forever.

His stature was meek. Completely different from my understanding of how he was depicted. I felt almost sympathetic towards him.  Thinking back, it was the first lie I bought of his. His voice deep, but somehow soothing. As our conversation began, the bond between us grew. His sickly clutches enveloped my senses as the night crept onwards. Once I had felt a strong enough bond, we both told our wishes for the other. His was simply stated, "I want life."
A cold chill came over the room as I began to contemplate the longevity of his conditions. Only moments had passed, though it felt close to the time I had spent adrift in the void. With determined thought, and whole hearted conviction, I gave my demands to his desire. "If it is life you seek, then i will give you mine. You and I will become one, one half heart for the both of us. This bond will be eternal, and for this request I grant for you, I ask only this as repayment. When the time comes, and my soul has lost its vigor, allow me to die from where I came all those years ago. So i might be one with the land that gave me so much. If you accept this offer, your sigil burn onto my body, and your essence become mine."

All that I can recall after I spoke these words is darkness. Not an uneasy dark that a child feels in the black of night, this was tender, and soothing.

Months now flew by, as if time meant nothing. My family, Wilhelm, my parents, they had all moved on with their own lives. To which I assume now was the best for us all. As time passed, I could feel the other half of my soul growing stronger. What once was a whisper of a man, grew into nightly voices, and soon, Astaroth became almost as clear as night and day. Tormented by visions of hellish wars fought for millennia in an unseen world plagued my nights. But I still believed I would be granted my wish.

The world grew older, customs of a once grandiose land soon became twisted and false. With all these changes, as unforeseen as they may be, one stood out the most. My body refused to age. My hair, face, body, nothing aged. It was a precursor to what I am today. A monster beyond comprehension. And it only has gotten worse. Though my face remains unchanged, I watch as those closest to me pass on into the sweet release of death that I so long for.

These years go by like sand falling through an hourglass. Those around gently become the grains of sand that sift down.

Late one night, as I lay on my bed, a gentle voice came to me. "For all that leave, we will forever be one Absalom." For a short while, the demon actually gave me solace.