"I'm tired." Andrew's voice rang out with lethargy. "Same shit over and over again. Can I have an end to this nonsense?"
The headless body of Zenith still stood erect in the muted field of utter cancellation. No intent to fall like the dead would… for he wasn't. Technically.
Red strands of something fleshy began sprouting from the bloody stump of his neck. Quickly, they wove themselves together, white strings joining in to form the interior layer.
Within a single second, Andrew was staring in the direction of Warwick with mercury-like eyes that held nothing. No emotions could be inferred from his eyes nor his expression.
"I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. I thought I wanted him dead. I thought I felt something for the child. I thought I was sad. I thought I was angry. I thought I fuckin' felt something but now… I'm just empty. I still don't understand why."
Everyone in Fragr, which was just five other people, was his audience. They watched in frozen shock as a man who was meant to be dead expressed his thoughts. His voice rang out from a non-existent mouth while his features remained unmoving.
"Should I blame Corruption again? Should I blame my mental illness again? Or should I finally just accept that I, Andrew, am actually mad? That I'm depraved beyond measure? Should I? Or should I continue to find convenient excuses for my faults?"
"But before any of that…" Andrew motioned in the direction of Alexander Warren with his left hand, pulling him forward with a force invisible to the naked eyes.
"You know what comes next, right?" Andrew asked Alexander Warren, who was now held by an invisible force in the air several metres away from him.
This scene was familiar. Ah, yes, it was a replication of what had taken place inside that gloomy cathedral. The roles had been switched between the helpless and the terrorizer. The prey and the abomination.
Alexander Warren couldn't answer, not that Andrew wanted an answer.
While everyone watched in horror, even the joyful youth now wore a terrified expression, as strands of flesh began peeling off Alexander Warren's skin.
Within moments, Alexander Warren had been flayed alive, left with only a thin layer of muscle covering his entire body.
"Pain, a concept that I've always found fascinating. What the feeling of anguish won't make a mortal do. The truest of all feelings. Direct and genuine. Not as complex as love nor melancholy. A feeling every creature is familiar with to an extent. Do you want to know something fun about me?" These words were uttered in a tone that was a mix of Andrew and Zenith.
"I don't know 'pain.' I've tried to feel it. I've done innumerable actions just to understand what pain was. From ripping out my own flesh with my bare teeth to trying to burn myself alive. Despite all of this, I still don't know the feeling of anguish."
"So, tell me, Alexander Warren… What does pain feel like?" This time, the voice was a mix of Valor and Andrew. Only Isabella recognized it, while the rest noticed only a slight shift in tone. That familiarity sent Isabella reeling back in greater horror.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
A deranged scream of pure anguish tore through the silent air as the remaining layer of flesh covering Alexander Warren was peeled away, revealing his innards in clear view.
"STOP! I BEG OF YOU, PLEASE! I WANTED NOTHING OF THIS. IT WAS FATE! I WAS AN APPARITION OF IT! I BEG OF YOU, ANDREW, SPARE ME!" Shrieks filled with anguish and horror rang loud and clear for all to hear, plunging the hearts of everyone into a frigid ocean of fear.
Isabella had it worse because of her past traumatic encounter with something of this nature. Her palms clasped tightly over her ears, desperate to block out the shrieks of anguish. Her deranged mumblings rattled Talen, who was also experiencing a meltdown.
Warwick seemed the most unaffected compared to the rest, but only in comparison. His body was frozen with pure fear. Unable to move a muscle, he could only watch everything unfold.
"That isn't what pain feels like, Alexander Warren. Pain should be more intimate with you. Pain should compel more willpower out of you. The anguish should bring out more of your 'humanity.' So… sing."
With that command, the final layers were gone, stripped away as strings of flesh. Every joint of Alexander Warren was separated and pulled away. No blood was spilled, for an invisible force prevented it. The flaying and dissection of Alexander Warren was done with utter surgical precision.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
"This is just too much. He should just put an end to his misery. There's no need to go this far," Talen muttered with bated breath.
Warwick didn't share this opinion.
"If all he has done is true, then he is very deserving of this outcome. Nonetheless, this is still twisted and unsightly to witness. These two are madmen of equal profanity; none should be the judge of the other." Warwick, despite his stunned state, could still conjure up full thought. Considering he was the closest person to this profane execution, he ought to be disturbed beyond measure… but he wasn't. Which was weird.
"Your song of anguish and fright does not ring to my liking, Alexander Warren. You've taught me nothing of pain," Andrew uttered with emptiness as the body parts of Alexander Warren were pulled even further apart, stretching him several metres across.
"PLEASE, ANDREW, I BEG OF YOU!" There was little left to call a "voice" in what rang out from Alexander Warren. His vocal cords had gone through such tremendous changes that it sounded more like a barely comprehensible rumbling mimicking human speech.
"Now you beg?" Andrew tilted his head a little to the left as his gaze fixed on Alexander Warren, or what used to be Alexander Warren, in confusion.
"IS THAT NOT WHAT YOU DESIRE TO HEAR? TO HEAR ME, MORGUR, BEG FOR RELEASE? TO HEAR ME BEG FOR FORGIVENESS? IS THAT NOT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR?"
There was no anguish, no terror, no helplessness to be heard in his broken voice. Only utter mockery.
The world fell silent as Isabella and the rest couldn't believe their ears. No human should be able to go through such torment and still utter such words. In fact, no human could even survive this long. And yet, not only had Alexander Warren survived it, but he also seemed to have the time to put on a façade and throw words of mockery around.
"Really?" Andrew inquired innocently.
"Why don't we see how much more you can endure before your mind breaks?"
Pain. Everyone got to understand the concept of pain that day. Was it even pain, or was it the concept of the inhumane that they finally got to understand? To be earnest, no one wanted to remember what went on that day in vivid detail.
A silent agreement was signed to never speak of that day. The day darkness punished the shadow for obscuring. The day when a timeless city broke. The day when humanity had its first "greatest" casualties. The day when everything was set into motion.
All that mattered was that this day pushed forward a "purpose."
******
I won't call that 'thing' a human. Though, to be fair, what was 'human' had lost its definition throughout the ages.
But that 'thing'... its alignment was with the profane. A putrid soul, eyes so empty that they revealed nothing, as if even the divine had fled from within them. It had the demeanor of the sanest man, a calmness that mocked all reason. Its compelling voice uttered maledictions with the greatest ease, as if it were the norm and we were the aberration. Its heart was probably full of darkness and corruption… or perhaps there was no heart at all, just an endless damnation wearing flesh.
I'm now certain that it is indeed a mad 'thing.' I'm now also certain that the boy who calls himself Andrew is one of those 'things.'
The laws of our world aren't powerful enough to restrict it. This world may very well be as fragile as an eggshell to it, something to be cracked open with a thought. Those Accursed Entities have never once viewed this world as anything other than a farm.
I'm tired of doing this over and over again. The cycle of watching, enduring, and surviving has dulled every edge of me. I may ask the Progenitor soon to bring an end to my eternal days. I've seen too much, heard the incomprehensible, and felt enough. I desire nothing more when all this world has ever offered is vulnerability and misery. Death isn't so terrible after all.
Maybe I should have gone sooner. Maybe the only mistake was staying to witness what should never have been seen.
—David, from ReflectionsOf The Ageless.