Soul Shattering screams dance around in the hellscape. Cristiano stands slowly, the world around him shrouded in darkness and tremors. He can see nothing, the abyss looking back into the depths of his mind's eye as he reaches around to gather is bearings. The muscles in his body feel cured cement fighting a battle with the ice in his veins. Every movement met with resistance. His finger tips glide along the near wall, touching the cold rough surface. He throws himself towards the purchase, praying for something to support him in this agony. As his head presses to the wall softly, whispers echo from the darkness....
"Come..... deeper....."
The shrill voice claws into the deepest recesses of his mind, tugging and pulling at emotions long ago silenced. The voice seems oddly familiar, but were its from doesn't come to mind. Come it says, come where? Deeper? deeper were? Slowly a faint glow starts to appear and the world around him starts to illuminate itself. This isn't his apartment, this isn't even America. Again, familiar but were is it? It dances on the tip of his tongue like a temptress' lips faintly tickling his own. Below he can see he wears nothing, scars slowly forming all of his body, scars he's never had before but painful memories start to appear vividly in his mind. A slash here, a stab there, several cuts, daggers twisted in his body, but the figure causing the damage is a unknown. The pain floods over him in a rush forcing him to slide down the rough wall, face first into a puddle.
"Closer you fool.... not lower"
That voice again, this time, not as sharp. The smell of iron fills his lungs as the pain slowly releases itself allowing the senses to return one at a time. The puddle is warm and thick, some kind of mud maybe? He reaches slowly to regain his footing. His eyes clear and the crimson plasma pools around him, dripping slowly. Is that my blood. Is that why I hurt? Am i dead? Why is there so much blood? Where the hell am I? Where is Penelope? A loud boom erupts from the far all sending a quake along his body.
"DO NOT UTTER THAT NAME HERE..."
The voice screams in his mind, blinding him momentarily. He didn't speak so why is it so furious with him? Can it read his mind? Where the fuck is he? The voice softly chuckles in the corners of his mind as well in the world around him. Cristiano ignores it for a moment to regain himself. The blood is all around him on the ground. In puddles in random areas. Some of the walls have splattering as if it was slew across the walls. With his breath regained, he moves down the path, towards the faint light.
"Why do you run from the darkness? I said to come to me child..."
I'm not coming towards you? He looks forward towards the growing light. A figure stands in it. Every rational thought in his mind beseeches him to move towards the light, towards the hope. But what is this feeling in his heart? Why does the light hurt my eyes? What is this sense of doom dancing in the cast shadows of the light? He moves slowly towards the light, the figure beckoning him along. The voice growls softly curses in languages he's never heard. Of course the demon is trying to trick him. Its what they do.
Its a slow battle but the light grows around him as the figure grows larger. Its less then twenty feet away from him and he can finally see the walls clearly. Stone walls, sandstone? No too firm, not much flaking off. Must be granite. But why is it so rough to the touch? The figure moves slowly forward, the shape coming off as feminine. The voice's curses turned to soft laughed. It sounded smug, arrogant, as if to imply it was better than than him. His heart started to swell with an emotion he couldn't understand. Just a few more steps and I can reach out to her... And with a slow shuffle forward the figure starts to move...
"Good try..."
That is all he can hear as Penelope's face, twisted and bloody erupts for from the figured as a dagger pierces deeply in his heart. It buries itself down to the hilt with a searing pain as if it was molten. A differ voice howls with the sense of victory as she twists, churning his heart into shreds. The world grows dark again as she starts to laugh, her same laugh he's heard countless time. Why... is all he can get out before blood pours out of his mouth. His body collapses to the ground.
Hours past, or was it days? Honestly he's lost all sense of reality. Ever time he wakes, the same events dance with minor changes. The walls are the same, the voices, the light in the distance, the figure at the end, The pain, scars, sorrow. All ending with Penelope's dagger and laughter. The only difference is the how many scars, where they are, and what the deeper voice says. Vague memories of what happened before, all logic leading to the light, and emotions he can't understand.
"As much as I love watching you die... I don't have all millennium to do this Knight"
Why did he call me Knight? I've never been a knighted. Another scar appears, this one in his kidney. How many times has he died to her? Is it twenty seven? thirty times? He lost count a while ago. The pain just grows each time, sparking more of this emotion he can't understand. Again, the smell of iron, the cold rough walls, and the soft light in the distance. The figure standing in the light. By now he knows. It's Penelope. She waits for him to come to the light. Each time he does, it grows dark and he returns here. Why does it keep doing that? Why can't I escape?
"For someone so smart, for someone truly believes he is better than those around him. You really are an idiot. I swear, how did I get stuck with this fool"
"So will you talk to me now demon?" His voice shakes as it comes out. Rough and ragged with each word? Is he dying in here? What is causing these scars? This pain?
"Listen lone Knight, I am tired of waiting for you to understand this. I can't help you understand all this, but I won't keep you alive any longer. You have one final chance. But i'll be nice, you can ask one question and I'll answer it. After that, you get to try once more. Figure it out and be free, fail, and I let you die."
One question? How do I trust a demon? How do I know what to ask it? Couldn't it just let me die all these time? What kind of sick game is this? I just want to go home, crawl into bed next to Penelope, and get some sleep. The world around him starts to feel heavy, a pressure building. It's much harder to stand up this time. His body resisting, as if trying to work cold steel. He looks around, same images, the light, the rough walls, the blood. More of it this time. More of it every time. It feels different this time. As if there was some truth to to those words... I let you die....
"Fine demon, I'll play your game one last time. My question is simple, What is causing all the pain, these scars that appear on me?"
The shadows around him start dancing as if alive, pooling in front of him, slowly growing into a towering image. A large lumbering figure stands before him, the lines sharp and rigid, bulky. It looks human shaped, but its movements seem limited and heavy... Like a person wearing armor? It lefts a heavy arm up, the hand curled to barely point a figure forward to the figure in the light, to Penelope.
"Heeeeeer..... She is the cause of your pain, your scars, your sorrows....."
Laughter echos as the voice fades off. The shadowy figure starts to turn to stone, cementing itself into the world. The pressure in the air comes down hard, pulling the breath from his lungs and forcing him down into the blood. Falling he grabs onto the statue... A flood of memories slam into his mind. Two thousand six hundred, and forty eight times. He's died here that many times. Each death jolts into his being knocking him flat on his back, the blood staining his body. How, how have I been here so long. How could Penelope kill me so many times... Why would she...
Its much longer than he would have liked too, but he manages to pull himself up by using the statue. Every death pulls at him, each pain so vivid. He looks toward the light again, the unknown emotion swarms his heart again, only this time, it makes sense. Devastation... complete and utter destruction. My heart is gone? No, i'd really be dead than, but if feels different. Why do I feel this from her. What is this place.
Carefully he turns to move to the light again, only now, the dread overwhelms him. Logic no longer moves his body, instinct wins out. With a single spin he takes off as fast as his rigid body allows him, into the abyss behind him. Two thousand six hundred, and forty eight deaths fueling his panic. Each step into the tendrils of ebony, the rigidity starts to pass. His body starts to feel human again, each breath comes easier, each pain grows lighter. Bliss starts to trickle into his mind at the thought of progress. Too soon.
"Fucking hell..."
That's all he manages to mutter out after he regains his sense. He ran full speed into the wall. He turns around, the light, Penelope, is moving towards him, a sickening scowl sweeps across her face. Her pace picking up slightly with time. Pure terror settles into Cristiano... Fanatically he starts looking for an escape. His hands dancing along the walls, desperately looking, hunting for something, anything, a door, a latch, a gate... the walls here smooth and warm. Turning back to look she isn't far from him, the cruel dagger at her side, dripping with his blood. Her voice echos softly in the light, "Come now, let me kill you some more... once more is all I need"
He falls to his knees as she closes in on him, less than fifteen feet from him, her arm moving to the heavens, dagger pointed down, ready to banish him to hell. A prayer starts to slip from his lips as his hands slowly fold in his lap. She slows her movements, as if lingering and hoping to relish this final kill. Pure despair sinks into his being as his hands unfold into the pools of blood around him. She stops to loom over him, the twisted grin covers her face, blood slowly oozing from right corner. Her tongue darts out, licking her lips.
"Are you ready to Die my love?"
This is can't be how I die? In a place like this. His fingers fidget in fear, the last bits of hope darting for something, anything. Tears start to fall, struggling along the jawline before pooling at this chin and escaping into the blood. Here He dies. Alone in hell, never being able to understand why? Never will he go home, travel the castle's walls... walls? No... Let his last thought be of his home and family, let his deepest love fill him. His fingers find a familiar feel and grip hard to their extension. He snaps his head up, tears steaming, to answer her call.
"Yes, I am ready to die."
She smiles once more, and plummets the dagger down. It catches the light and shimmers as if the heavens themselves urge it forward. But surprise catches her and her eyes expand beyond understanding as Cristiano leaps up, driving the sword deep into her heart down to its guard. Blood doesn't poor from the wound, rather what looks to be molten gold flows down along it, coating him in a chilling sense. The dagger clatters to the ground before turning into a dove and flying off, tainted in blood. Her arms fall around his body in a final embrace as her head falls on his shoulder. The shape of her mouth and pure shock in her eyes ask for her. Why?
"Now I die..."
With a heavy heave, he pushed her away. Her body trashing in pain, the blade emitting its own darkness to counter the light. The world starts to fade away, the walls, the blood, the lights, even Penelope. All that remains is Cristiano in the abyss, sword in hand, gold dripping off and disappearing. A dark voice dances its way slowly out of the calamity.
"Very good my child. I didn't think you'd ever be able to figure it out?"
"Who the hell are you? Where the hell am I?
"Isn't it obvious? This is your heart, and I am you. Well, the real you."
"That doesn't make a lick of sense. What the fuck is going on."
"Shhhhh we aren't done, just finish this"
Before he can react his arm moves of its own accord, lifting the blade up to present itself as the shadowy figure forms itself. This time it solidifies before Cristiano. And to his shock, its as if he is looking into a mirror, but a darker one. The hair a little longer, eyes heavier, soulless even. The shoulders much stronger looking, broader maybe? As if it was its been holding the world upon it for eons. The rest of the body more tone, more muscle signs of much more use. The blade falls from his hand into the figure before him. It catches it with a flourish and inspects the blade.
"How are you me?"
"Hmmm? Oh, I am what you will become. What you are meant to be. Now its time to get to work. Wake up." With that, the figure plummets the sword deep into Cristiano, the same molten gold pours from the wound. This time it is quicker, the body shrivels up and disappears. The darkness envelopes everything and soon, there is nothing.
A sharp buzzing noise wakes Cristiano up. The clock above the oven reads 10:45. Outside the window, grey storm clouds are in the air, the sun trying to push its way free. He can't tell if its raining or not. His body is sore, glass is scattered all around him. Last night was a blur. Again the sharp buzzing scream at him. He moves to get up, shaking the sleep off his body. His phone on the counter screaming, wake up wake up! With a swipe he dismisses the alarm. He looks around the kitchen, the glass on the floor. Didn't cut him as he fell, he's lucky... Than the note resting upturned on the counter.
"Oh yea... that...."
