Surreal Life Orgins Part Two: The Game

Chaper 7: The Trust

Be my Dulincia, and I'll be your knight in shining armor who would throw away sanity just to see you.

Be my companion, and I'll travel through a sea of time and space just to keep you alive.

Be my Winry, and I'll be your alchemist, setting aside my mission to protect you and never see you cry.

Be my Sophie, and I'll be your wizard, evading the queen's army just to see you safe.

Be my Lust, and I'll be your Pride.

"Infamy! Blasphemy! Ignominy!" reverberated Nermal, "Mine daughter, Kno, a daw! A daw, truly to the ends of the Cosmos! Dost she unequivocally ruminate she will find love in a mere mortal?!"

"Master?" said an imp, who was in fact, like all imps, simply a black orb with flaming, pupil-less eyes. When this imp floated in, Nermal inoculated a ball of blue fire at the daft imp.

"Can thou not cognize that I am in the midst of diligent work?!" he shouted at his devoted servant as he stepped on it.

"Sorry master, but we have received gen on the one named Samson."

"And what would it be?" asked Nermal, permitting the imp to leave from beneath his foothold.

"What he will always follow, what will lure him, sir."

Upon hearing this, Hell's potentate casted a twisted chortle, "Splendid."

The group's trek had located them at the pool, with its waters layered on top with fuzz of its past motel visitants who dared to swim in the warm, grey ooze.

Papa started to weep, "I have never, in all my years here, seen thee pool so clean. And now it's gonna be destroyed with thee rest of this haven."

No one tried to comfort him, they just wanted out of the natty hostel.

Joni went to Samson and verbalized, "Well at least she is taking us the right way."

"Yeah, I guess so," retorted Samson, and then jokingly added, "Through the most horrific areas."

"Well, demons do like creepy."

They guffawed at each other's lame jokes.

Without warning, as set of walls shot out of the floor, separating Samson from the rest.

When the wall that came between Joni and Samson appeared, their hearts skipped identically. After a skirmish to liberate the captive by means of Samson and Joni of what felt like an eternity, they lied parallel to each other on the wall, weeping.

After a timeless hour, a perplexing, cerulean glow shined behind Samson. His curiosity impelled him to cease his blub, and investigate.

What he found was a lite-blue sprite in the shape of a discus with large, white wings.

"Hey, listen," it spoke with the voice of a provocative woman.

"What? Who are you?" asked Samson, still wiping tears off his face.

"I am Lust, in a near pure form."

"So, you're a sin? You work directly for Nermal, this is obviously a trap."

"I am no trap. You can trust me."

"Why should I trust you?"

"I can give you what your friends cannot and will not give."

Lust transformed into the physique of Joni, but with a blue colorant and eyes, red as a child's lips right after devouring a cherry lollypop, with its sticky residue dwelling for hours, if not days, on end. She gestured to Samson to come her way.

Samson went into a trance. He could not resist the beckon of Lust, especially when she depicted Joni, whom held his fondness (which was something more now).

He bade her command, and came closer to the sin of the itch of desire. He leaned in for a kiss.

Once their lips met, Samson's face caught fire, for love burns.

Upon realizing this, he pulled away, from Lust and her trance, and the flame instantly went out.

Through the agony, Samson told Lust, "No! I can't do this, especially not to Joni. I can't betray my friends and stay here with you."

Lust turned into a Barbie-like woman, her pure form (still tinged of sapphire). "You can't go out in public with a face as burnt and melted as yours," she stated, "Your kind are judgmental."

"I know," Samson would not face Lust, "is there any way you can help?"

"Why should I help you?"

"You already failed Nermal; you have no reason to stay. Why are you still here?"

"Fine, here is a way to hide your shame."

Out of the air, she made a mouth-less, white mask with long, dark-gold triangles coming from its eyeholes.

As he put it on, the walls around him crumbled to dust and Lust turned into her sprite form and flew off.

When Joni, who was still bawling, comprehended that the walls were gone and her friend was still alive, she hugged him and denied to let him go.

"I thought I lost you," she whimpered, drenching Samson's back with the salty waters that are barred, save for the affairs of great mourning, panic, or exhilaration.