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prologue (name redacted)
they are awakened by the lukewarm fluid splashing down on the top of their head.
matting down their fur moreso than it already is - sticky with the stench of stale beer and unbeknownst to them, their own dried and flaking blood.
the world around them doesn't make sense. aside from maybe the pain. the ringing pain in their head screaming over everything else to be heard, to be focused on.
their eyesight, a blurred vibration of shadowed colors.
discolored, the distortions, or do their eyes deceive them...?
could the figure be... him...?
light bright and blinding spilling from the peripherals of their warped eyeline to an overwhelming realization and a flood of mixed emotions.
they try to speak, their words lost to muffled gagging and choking.
wheezing. difficulty breathing.
it's too much to process as their minds are stuttering. not working at full capacity. this is mentally established, though they might not have the words for it.
the ideas and concepts behind this metaphysical manifestation are glowing with symbolism to the creature.
as arduous as this chapter of existence is, this had to happen. there is a balance of cathartic rage to their suffering, and they can sense it. again they try to speak and they choke on their own words.
he speaks to them. cold and bitter voice breaking, forcing laughter. taunting.
the other, quiet. they're barely aware of his presence. almost sulking, feeling ill in the background. only speaking up to play the sycophant. this isn't about the other, though. it's about him and them.
ragged breaths through the coagulated blood and snot blocking their nasal passages, pushing out a crimson mucous that leaks with viscosity down their tightly muzzled face.
he asks them if they know why they are here.
why this is happening to them.
they know it is futile to speak so they simply nod their head. pain rolling around their skull like water sloshing in a dropped bucket.
they thought of the words they would say to him if they ever saw them again so many times. the apologies, the explanations. not justifications - no asking forgiveness. just the truth.
this turn of events has not allowed for that and maybe righteously so. it is not their place to judge the nature of things.
all they can do is accept.
their regret isn't something their words can convey, and doesn't even start or stop at their side of things alone.
though all that rings consistent with their many attempts to construct and reconstruct a potential understanding between them are the simple words "i'm sorry" all they really want is something much more simple, much more attainable.
for the blood and distortion to leave their eyes so that he may look into his one true time before it's all over.