The Beast Made of Ink

Chapter 9: The Dream

-Your P.O.V-

The creaking and painful sound entered your ears, noises akin to the sound of a dying dog on its last legs. You covered your fragile drums with your callused hands in hopes of drowning out the sound, but to no avail, it didn't stop. Opening your eyes to see just what was making the noise, you were met face to face with a staggeringly large machine, colored in black and sepia tones.

The sight of that old thing... Was downright horrifying. It gurgled and spurted black, it creaked and it groaned. The sight on its own made you wish to cry. However, instead of crying, you began laughing.

You laughed until tears streamed down your cheeks, you laughed until your stomach ached and your old bones creaked at the sight. You laughed until you were practically falling out of your wheelchair as your silver eyes crinkled with glee and insanity, wrinkles sculpted into a rare grin.

"Wait... Since when do I have calluses? When did I have old bones or wrinkles? Since when was I in a wheelchair!?" You thought to yourself as you willed your body to stop laughing. But to no avail, despite your thoughts, you were unable to. It was if you were stuck.

It was as if you couldn't control anything.

It seemed like a dream. No...

It was a dream. A dream you were entirely aware of yet unable to control. A dream so lucid you are strapped away from all control. A dream unlike any other because this was more than a dream. You didn't know how you knew, but you did.

This was a glimpse into somebody's life. Another's memory.

"Why... Why isn't it working?" You rasped out in your unfamiliar deep voice. "I... I took so much ink! I practically drank the stuff, so why...!? Why am I still aging!?"

A deep chuckle was the mans only response. You shot your head up, attempting to find the source of the noise. However, to your dismay, you were incapable of finding it.

"That answer's simple, DEAR OLD FRIEND" An invisible voice laced with mirth hissed. "You simply are not worthy. The ink... Well you see, the ink chooses its hosts, or rather, I choose who the ink will host. If I believe they are suited, then I will allow them immortality, but if I think they are unfit, then I will kill them."

You began to tremble with anger, silver eyes shooting up at the machine.

"You're a monster!"

Your words however only seemed to entertain the voice, as a deep throaty rumble echoed the room yet again.

"I'm the monster, huh... ACCORDING TO THE MAN WHO TORTURED US, KILLED US, BEAT US, AND DISPOSED OF US, I'M THE MONSTER!?" The voice screeched, and before you were able to say anything, a familiar form appeared, one that both you and the man know very well.

Standing 8 feet with ink dripping over where its eye-sockets would be. A tall and lanky form wobbled on uneven feet, a skeleton drenched in ink. Its eerie grin stretching across its face as its hand reached out to grasp you.

Your form recoiled in fear, but instead of hurting you like you had expected, you found only a gentle gloved hand placed on your cheek.

"You have no idea how badly I wanna kill you Joey... How badly I wanna torture and destroy you. How badly I wanna chase you and beat you. However, I won't. Seeing you suffer from lack of immortality is more than enough. The greatest punishment for somebody like you..."

To both of your horrors, its perma-grin parted, revealing rows upon rows of sharp canine-like teeth, and a long slithering serpent-like black tongue dripping in inky saliva.

"Is to not die by the hands of me, but to die by the hands of mortality itself."

With a final menacing laugh, the ink demon disappeared, leaving you in complete and utter silence.

Balling up your fists, you spoke quietly to yourself under your breath.

"That's where your wrong you little bastard... I WILL be immortal, with or without your dammed ink. And when I do discover immortality, I will make sure that you will suffer the most"

.........

And with that, you woke up.