What is it? Will to be? It's nothing really. Don't feel because you can't feel. Soul's gone, but energy's there. Or is it that the soul is there and energy is Depleted?
That's what I am, aren't I? A hundred million souls crystallized to form arms. Legs. A body with a tick-tocking heart that should beat blood but instead beats only the essence of dust.
I am nothing, yet at the same time, I am the everything that created me.
adrenaline pumping i just robbed a bank with my brothers.
Dangerous
Dreams, what are they? Leftover memories, the alchemists have led the humans to believe from the very beginning.
We morphs do not need sleep. No, sleep is for beings that the Gods have made. My siblings imitate these notions of sleep, lusting to not be synthetic like our sister Sonia.
With sleep come Dreams. With Dreams comes Dread.
Whether we lie in a cot to imitate a human or hang ourselves upside-down on the beams of an abandoned church like an animal, once we close our eyes we see things.
My siblings will make their beds on the floor of the ancient gates, eyes closing and minds losing themselves in memories that do not belong to them.
A brother screams in his rest, mind lost in the madness of an immense forest as he sees the image of a little girl being raped by a burly man. She screams in fear as the man climaxes in her. He slits her throat, blood streaming everywhere as he leaves her on the pillow of grass to slowly Die in pain.
A sister Dreams of being a king; living a life of luxury and sodomy. Gold encrusted fingers Directs a forgotten kingdom to its ruin, his money spent on enslaved pretty boys to gratify his sexual pleasures. She wakes up in the middle of sex with the after image of a lowly little boy encrypted in her eyes, power coursing throughout her veins, while her patchwork body is unfamiliar with the feeling of pleasure.
I do not like these notions of sleep. I do not like these memories of Dread.
I closed my eyes once, and I saw so many things. I was so many beings inside one body.
So many memories. A Desperado cutting his palms to sign a blood pact with his brothers. A socialite partying with her friends on the streets of Ostia. A worried mother, looking for a child she lost in the flamboyant lights of a festival.
So many memories. I have no emotions, but when I am imprisoned in these episodic visions, I taste the emotions that I feel I am missing in this sterile life.
I fake myself into believing I fear these episodic visions. These synthetic fears compel me to stop closing my eyes.
I do not need to imitate these primal beings.
i'm giggling because a burly man at the bar is eyeing me.
Delicious
Nergal knows of our problems, but there is nothing he can do about them. The dreams are a side-effect of our creation, each soul is a memory. Erasing them would mean killing the souls inside of us, hereby destroying what we are.
"And what did you dream of Limstella that caused you so much distress?" Nergal's breathe smells of Destruction and Death, things that his mind has warped into. His body is facing the Dragon's gate, itself shining with an ethereal light, while around us the green ruins hide in perpetual darkness.
He is studying the gate, and doesn't care what I have to say. The gate is the only thing besides himself that he worships.
"I am a mother. I lost my child amongst masked creatures and eclectic lights," Emotionless. That is what I am. That is what I was created to be. But this bothers me. And I don't know why.
He doesn't look at me, and I know my presence is irritating him.
"Humanity. How disgusting is it to care for something you reproduced?" His mind is Dispossessed as his body is pleasured by the gates. Even with him answering, I know that he is not there.
"And what is a child but bones and flesh? Sperm and eggs that you can easily replace," His body is shaking. He wants to release, but he can't until the gates open wide.
He turns his head and finally looks at me, and I can see azure lust in his one eye.
"There is nothing I can do about your Dreams Limstella. You know that."
i'm worried about my daughter, call her name and she doesn't respond.
Despair
A rapier breaks into my ceramic chest.
I don't feel pain and I'm Dying. It is for the best.
What I do feel are the souls releasing as my skin crumbles into dust. Or, you can say, the pieces of my skin turn into the souls trapped inside the velvet material. This results in pain I cannot describe. I am slowly being erased.
"I am not human. This mind and body are constructs. Yes, as is this sorrow."
It is true. It is what I am. Whatever I did feel, if such emotions were ever stitched onto my sleeve, were the memories of others. Never mine.
As I become no more, I close my eyes one final time and see the fate of the memories that never belonged to me.
A Desperado is shot through the head,
betrayed by his brothers.
A socialite is mugged on her way home,
raped and beaten to Death.
A mother finds a Dead child,
out in the forests of madness.
Kills herself,
and I feel her sadness.
They each fly out
Up
To
Heaven.
And I never existed.
Morphs remind me of Kingdom Heart's nobodies for some reason. There are so many contradictions to what they are as a being.
Disclaimer
and
concrit greatly appreciateD