The River Can't Hold Me

Chpt. 1

If you looked up, all you could see was black.
Were your eyes open? You weren't sure, but your head was throbbing. A horrible pain surged its way throughout your body like a thousand needles being driven into your delicate flesh. You try to open your eyes. In front of you are evenly placed bars of solid steel, each evenly sized. Reaching out, you feel your hand being held back by some sort of limiting tether. Looking down at your hands, you see chains. Shackles and chains, bound to your hands and ankles, and some sort of glowing brace clasped around your neck. A faint white glow emits from the brace, but you ignore this and continue to stare at your hands.

Oh my god, your hands.

Encased in a black cloth, these are the hands of a murderer. From these hands many people have died. From these hands, people have screamed until you swear you've heard their lungs fill with tar and their gargled mess of cries haunted your ears and only added to all of these voices. Like a little collection of people in your head, these voices yell at you. They yell at you to obey, and you do. They drown out any thoughts you used to have of being "normal, whatever that word meant. Your heart was stone cold, an envelope of what could have been something grand, shattered into a black, hollow abyss. It was caked in nightmares, darkness, and pure malicious thoughts that weren't of your own.

You don't remember what made you go insane. You don't remember what changed you into this corrupt monster, this... oh, yes you do. You do remember. You were, as described by yourself long ago, the master of dimensions, the pleaser of crowds. You were Dimentio.

This realization hit you like a brick like some sort of new wave of sentience came crawling over your filthy, sinful mind. You couldn't help but stand up, ignoring the grinding of the chains against the barren stone floor vibrating through to your head. As twisted as it was, you felt you deserved this. You deserved this isolation for brutally mauling the hope that your family brought you. He found all of you and took you under his wing as a father figure, something you've never had. He took you under, and you betrayed him. You filthy piece of ragged waste. You slimy, pathetic, excuse for a "son." You should have learned to forgive and forget. Did he not teach you anything?

Of course he did, but you can't remember. A tear finds its way out from your eye and onto your cheek. No, mask... onto your cracked, grimy mask. If your face is this bad, your body must be even worse, yet.... how shameful of you. You kept your emotions hidden, and now look at you. You've broken. That facade of you having to suppress all of who you were is gone. Even though you've hurt them, your family... you still can't help but wonder what they're doing right now. What it's like without you there, teasing and playing jokes on them at the worst of times. You were a real pain in the ass, as O' Chunks put it once. He corrected himself later, as he found that type of language was unnecessary. When you weren't being a pain in the ass, you were plotting the death and destruction of all of your friends. You kept yourself locked away in your room, and you hid when they tried to confront you. Somewhere deep down, you couldn't help but feel sorry for them. Sorry that they were so oblivious, maybe?

You want out. You are absolutely seething with this horrible, restless feeling of not being able to do anything . The more and more you let yourself talk to these voices in your head, the more and more your visions grow dark. Flashing images of vile, bone hands are creeping their way over your eyes, and you swear you feel them climbing inside of your throat, trying to reach that worthless light as some sort of new dawning hope. You feel them, writhing all over your revolting husk of a body, making you more and more nauseating than you already are. Yet, while being choked by your mind, you can't help but laugh. A deep, otherworldly laugh resounded from within you.

You lost yourself again.

Behind all of the voices tearing at your head, you can hear yourself. That familiar, playful laugh you used to use was gone. Pure shrieks of utter madness are bouncing off of the walls of this dungeon and are finding their way back to your ears, and you stop after a coughing fit. These waves come and go, and... how long have you been here?

That doesn't matter now. Here you are, the "master of dimensions", sobbing your eyes out in the bottom of the River Twygz, locked inside a high security prison meant to keep you and your antics inside. That brace around your neck? That's meant to seal away all of your powers. When the Chaos Heart was destroyed, some of it resonated within you. They can't take any chances, so they threw you in here and voided you of your abilities, the only things that made you seem somewhat strong, somewhat of a force to be reckoned with. Hell, you can't even float anymore. What you can do, though, is become more of a mess than you already are. Shaking violently, your body cripples over towards the bars barricading you from leaving, and your hands, slowly and shaking, grasp those icy cold rods. With a ragged breath still tired from coughing, you manage to force out a plea...

"Someone save me from myself..."


No one came.

Or you thought, at least. You were to busy passing out to notice that the lackeys (D-Men) of Queen Jaydes, the ruler of the Underwhere, had come with a guest. It was almost as though they were preforming some sort of tour for this "nobody", just another resident from who the hell knows where. The sounds of a cackling flame and the clicking of a fancy dress shoe, followed by many smaller (and quicker) steps came bellowing from down the dimly lit halls. Whoever was wearing the dress shoe appeared to have a limp, and a very distinct one at that. What they were down in the depths of the River for is something undisclosed to us for the moment. Their conversation wasn't anything notable... They stopped in front of Dimentio's cell.

"The Queen said this is the one that fell into the river, correct?"

Yes, sir. Ma'am...? Uh-"

"...Don't worry about that. I'm no one of importance. Sir is fine."

"Yes, s-sir."

"What are they in here for, may I ask?"

"I'm sorry, but we're not allowed to disclose that infor- ahck-!"

"Now, let me say it again... What are they in here for?"

"He nearly caused the destruction of a-all worlds, s-sir... But that's all w-we know! We tried to get it out of him but he attacked one of our s-superiors and we had to put the brace on him a-and t-"

"That's enough, thank you."

"L-let's be on our way, shall we?"

The group then started to leave, the sounds of their footwear hitting the broken stone floor starting to pick up again. Yet... this person with a limp remaining hesitant to move on with the rest of the D-Men. "He" crouched down beside the bars and looked into the jester's cell, eye squinted as to get a better look for the unconscious villain on the ground. Before getting up to return to the group, under his breath, he whispered something...

"I will be back for you."