Sheila picked up the sword.
She had been waiting in the Sack of Time since the first century of the New Realm, with two-foot-tall killer ants, crocodiles, and tsukumogami. The tsukumogami were the spirits her ancestor's abandoned artifacts, clocks, candles, music boxes--- their mark on the Earth they once knew. After 99 years of living in hell called Earth, the tsukumogami finally came to life. They would give her the heart and the answer to everything.
Sheila had no idea how to comprehend anything in her life of 4 centuries. Especially in the cold, dead Sack of Time, where time froze forever and the monsters would eat you.
Ever since The Incident with Mother. Well now everything would make sense, have meaning, have emotion, right when she stabs the heart of the tsukumogami and finds the missing piece of the puzzle. The crème de la crème. But that's besides the point. Back to the sword in the room---
It lay plainly on the table in the cold room, as if it were a small man-child ready for death.
No, not waiting. Ready. To accept death. It was innocent. Like a child.
She wanted to be a child. But she couldn't quite grasp the concept of youth and childhood. Sheila shook her head and tried to think childish thoughts.
But she couldn't do it.
She picked up the apple in her bone-white hand, closely examined it with a scorching ruby eye, and clenched her jaw.
The girl let go of consciousness and the world itself.
It was as if she had to succumb like the sword.
Just to concentrate and get the surge of sublime emotions like any human being has felt before.
You'll feel it soon. You're not a monster. Just be happy. Happy magic. Magic is good. The Wind Spirit will help you. You can be a happy little kid, right? Not that hard. But you're no good! You're not, you're you're not---
CLING!
The sword was crushed to bits.
The colors left her face. Tears streamed down her face, each one burning cyanide. They erupted in black flames, her veins turned flamingo pink, her skin moldy now mushrooms of every color imaginable.
The dark magic flew out and about, and the wind spirit transformed itself into a ghost. Then the sound of waves crashing. Sea shells hitting the shore like hail on a frosty day.
Sheila closed her eyes, enveloping herself in the moment. She wished it could last forever. The only feeling she'd feel for a long time.
But something wasn't right...
There were voices.
From the past.
You're not a monster, you don't have to be this way...
mOTHER!!
The very words Sheila had said before her mother died.
The figure hissed and spurted noxious gases and made horrific animal noises. It formed a bone white mask with red eyes looking just like Sheila but older. A small shadow formed in the door to candle-lit room she was standing in.
She screamed, but nothing came out.
The blood trickled from down her ears, and the figure had smashed itself and caught on fire. The music box her mother gave was singing.
But she felt nothing still...
Until her father saw what happened that night.
"I told you not to get your mother's sword! That sword is haunted! You want a life of luxury well you don't get one because of what you did to your mother! You don't want to be a monster well there's nothing you can do!" Her father's electrifying blue eyes focused on his daughter, the neon-blonde mustache bouncing up and down as he spoke.
YOU ARE READING
Viper Circus
Short Story~~~HAPPY HOLIDAYS!~~~ Sheila was a mess. Her uncontrollable obsession with her mother's music box and anger issues has led to mass murders and merciless killings. But then again she can't help it. She feels no emotions. She's a monster. On the sear...
