unraveled

a murdered family

          The Joker was waiting, his expression a dangerous promise. Some days, he was kind or as kind as he could be with what he did. Some days he wasn't and other days he made death seem like mercy. He gestured his hand to the ground in front of him, where they silently walked and layed down. There was no ice in here. The tent came with its own wooden floor, it never seemed to be affected by any weather. Regardless, it was cold enough to be a reminder of the sodden ice underneath, the boy's coat already dampening. The Joker stood directly over them, considering as he looked to one side and nodded. A huge man the size of consideration before taking him in a fight crouched and tied their hands and feet together. They got up and pulled their hands behind their backs and lay back down again. Their hips at an odd angle than the rest of their body. The man dissapeared and Nia and the boy closed their eyes. The Joker circled them with a bag of chalk, not minding if he walked on one of their legs or "accidentally" sprinkled chalk on their faces. With a satisfied grunt, he put down the bag and began chanting.

          For years, the boy had resisted against this. He refused to close his eyes and let the chants take control. He refused to go to the places he took him. The boy never understood Nia for this. How she could so easily close her eyes and obey him. It was terrifying to see her this submissive, to see her cemented facade crack, if only when she were being possessed. Nia had the strength to keep it together for the both of them, the boy refused to ever let that happen. Each day and night, he rioted if only with his cracked and broken voice. If only the Master's words choked out his will. Even if - and then the Switch happened.

          He was there in his body, one second and somewhere else the next. He had involuntarily brought it upon himself. The momentary second of the Switch always felt like an eternity of using a blade to pry off the edges of his soul from the inside of his skin. Once it was done, he could simply step out and walk to wherever the Master's path of words took him and the moment ended. Physically his body still lay there, on the wooden floor under the haunting panels of the tent, but when he opened his eyes, he saw not the apex of the tent but sprawling green plains. They were dotted with little blue flowers, like fallen little droplets of the great blue sky above. There was a house in the distance. A voice from behind him told him to walk to it. He turned around looking for the voice's mouth, but there was only the rippling grass. He took a step, and with the next one, he was there. Standing in front of the building. It was an antique thing, a marvelous collector's item. Sprawled in ivy and moss, he wondered if he would find a trapped princess inside like in the stories Nia told him. The door made a slimy creak as he pushed it open, as if its hinges were covered in a type of goo. The boy was standing in a long hallway that ended in a staircase, only he couldn't tell whether the floor ended and the staircase started. It resembled an inverse, rounded hull of a ship, curving itself towards steps that led to a second floor. He walked along the hallway, the walls were bare betraying absolutely no sign of any sort of prior existence. He was at the top of the staircase, but he had no idea of when he'd started climbing it. A bedroom door was ajar. Curious, he pushed it further wide and sucked in a breath. There was blood everywhere, staining the room a filthy ruby color. The room had a coppery tinge to it, the blood was recently drawn. It was everywhere except on the five corpses that lay on the floor. It puddled on the floor and scratched at the wallpaper. It was somehow on the ceiling above. It instantly ruined the boy's mood. He walked inside and instantly slipped. The floor came up like a thug ready for a fight and slammed him in the nose. He was entirely covered in blood, a red apparition. His hands slid several times before he finally got up and surveyed himself. His clothes were smudged in red, as if they were accidentally washed with a red cloth that bled color. His hair was covered in it and blood dripped from his eyelashes, blurring his vision to crimson. He touched his nose which seemed unbroken. With a satisfactory grunt at his unbroken nose and a shudder at the macabre view, he surveyed the corpses. They were twisted at odd angles, their limbs protruding and backwards as if a giant baby had thought they were dolls and played with them in the unnatural way that they do. He imagined what it had been like for them to wake up this morning in this house and meet their family in this room. The little girl had sat by the foot of her grandma's chair and watched her knit. The mother and father had sat with their fingers intertwined by the window sill. The dog had folded his paws and dozed off. They must have been there, actually living life, when some sort of silent force had come and snuffed away their breaths. Mocking their blood by playing with it, painting with it. A few years ago, he would have felt rage or grief or revolt or at least a sense of discomfort at this view, but he'd grown out of his humanity. He felt no answering emotions at the sight. Only a role to play, as an observer. He was sent here to study and observe and capture, doing or feeling anything other than that was a burden and another challenge. He drank in everything, stored it all in himself. Etching everything he saw on a mental piece of paper that he would hand back to the Master. On the furthest wall, he saw a symbol drawn in the blood, one the boy hadn't noticed when he had first come in. It was the same as it had been before, in every other Switch: a circle with five rays intersecting in the middle. He took a step, with the next one he was by the wall, his pointer finger dragging itself to one of the five lines. When he pulled away and rubbed his pointer finger and thumb together, the blood squished, when he pulled them apart it stood up in sticky, gooey strands stretching between like the maws of a shark.

Love,
Cora. ✮