Part 2

Chapter 21 Loathe

Ziggurat still felt uncomfortable in the hover car. It was an odd feeling to him in the way that he was being moved by some invisible force. The idea of it made him shiver involuntarily and he hoped the pope was not paying too much attention to him.

"You're not scared are you?" asked the pope superstitiously.

The cyborg shook his head and averted his eyes from the window. He sighed again for the second time that day and the pope was left wondering what could be making him so grievous. From what Ziggurat had told him, even the cyborg could not find the cause for such an emotion.

"Why would I be?" asked the cyborg momentarily.

"Ay, even a cyborg can become scared."

"That may be true, but even this is nothing to fear."

The pope could find nothing else to say and they rode the short distance left in silence. During that time, the cyborg would rotate his hand in an idle habit. Soon they arrived, the pope stepped out of the driver's seat and Ziggurat stepped out the backseat. Just as before, the Church stood menacingly before him and despite what he had said to the pope, he was frightened.

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Ziggurat's eyes remained on the ground so that he could avoid the sight of the wretched Zohar. He could not, however, deny the warmth he began to feel as he stepped into the Zohar's presence. Slowly, the constant coldness he always felt began to disappear. He felt the pope's eyes on him.

"You have to look at it, Ziggurat."

They walked until they were directly in front of the Zohar and for a moment, the cyborg wanted to turn back around and forget the whole thing. But curiosity got the better of him and it forced him to face his fears.

He had forgotten how fascinating it was, how entrancing and stunning its appearance was that he simply stared stupefied. The pope recognized the amazed reaction, but that was all. Would his memories return as well? The cyborg glanced at the pope.

"You wouldn't mind…if I touched the Zohar, would you?" asked he slowly.

"By all means," responded the pope.

The Zohar had never shined so brightly except when the cyborg was in its presence. There was such a stunning reaction to the cyborg that the pope wondered more and more just who this Ziggurat 8 was. He looked around himself and saw a few people in the pews. Their eyes were alight with wonder and they moved up closer to the Zohar and the cyborg, but all remained deathly quiet as the cyborg's hand reached out to it. The entire building became immersed in the blinding white light of the Zohar. The cyborg that stood in the front of it was completely blinded and then just as suddenly he was standing in a black and white world.

It was a graveyard by the look of it and the place was made mysterious by the heavy fog that clothed it. Through the mist he spied a silhouette of a woman.

"KOS-MOS," whispered Ziggurat passionately.

The figure shook her head.

"You're not KOS-MOS," asked he in a soft tone for he felt the need to keep his voice quiet.

The figure shook her head again and came even closer to him. The fog was too thick to even see clearly a person that stood only yards in front of him.

"No, Ziggurat, don't call me by that name."

"Your voice. I remember your voice. You sound so much like her," came he quickly in his same light tone.

She came so close to him that she was only a hairsbreadth away and he recognized her greenish blue eyes.

"I am Maria, not that dimwitted girl from before."

"Oh, she was far from dimwitted, Maria. She knew me, better than I ever would. She saw things in me that—"

"You know not what you speak of, Ziggurat. Your senses are blinded by love."

"Blinded? I would say the opposite, Maria."

"Do you pleasure in making my life so painful? Tell me that you hate me. Tell me that everything you said to me was a lie so that I could loathe in your appearance and love my husband faithfully as I always have."

"If it hurts you so much to love me then I am sorry. I would never want you to live in pain simply because of my selfishness."

Ziggurat took a step back from her tempting lips. He took a deep breath and let every single emotion he felt at that moment vanish from his mind. All the coldness and loneliness that he had ever experienced remained. He let it reach his voice and it was terrifying to hear him speak as she had never heard him so lacking in warmth. It was such a contrast to the tone he had used with her earlier that she wondered if this was the same person.

"Since the day we first met I have hated you and only thought of the different ways to ruin you. I recognized my chance when I realized how much you wanted someone to protect you and your utter innocence. I thought to myself how nice it would be to toy with your feelings. I wanted you to hate me as much as I loathed you. That was my true desire, Maria. So I baited you with my stories of woe and your natural want to help me. I gleefully watched as you gave me your trust and your heart and laughed to myself when you thought that you had received the same thing. And to add on to my sickening joy, I impregnated you knowing full well that I would sooner kill the baby than have you hold it. I wanted so badly to kill it, but I realized in my horrifying mind that I should prolong it so that when that day came when I would confess to you my true feelings-as I do now-I could increase my joy tenfold to see the anguish upon your face. The tears I wanted to see more than anything else. I loved, no, adored the sight of them. I wanted to see them come gushing out of your maddening eyes; your screams of hate would be music to my ears. But more than anything, I would take pride in your ruin. It would make my day so immensely bright that I, Ziggurat 8, have brought about your ruin."

"Ziggurat, Ziggurat! You can't mean that!"

And just as he predicted, she cried and she screamed his name so hatefully that her voice became hoarse. She pounded on his chest, but he pushed her away violently. She looked up at him and to her horror; he smiled back at her so smugly that she couldn't stop another torrent of tears from spilling down her face. Ziggurat turned away and it was at that moment that she realized that she had never heard him laugh before. She heard his sickening laughter and wished she had never bore witness to its cacophony.

"Yes, woman, I enjoy your performance! It is just as I imagined it!" cried he so gleefully.

She had never seen him so excited. Even when he was in a good mood, she had never witnessed the loudness of his voice nor the tone.

"Don't stop now, Maria! Don't you hate me? You loathe the very ground that I stand on!"

"Stop it, Ziggurat! Stop it! I never meant for you to do this! How can you go against your own feelings! It gives me a near mortal wound to hear you like this—"

"Shut-up, woman! Don't lecture me about feelings! You only care about yourself or else you would not have asked me to hate you! You selfish b! How can you act as if you are the victim?!"

She couldn't tell who she was talking to at this point. Was this the same Ziggurat? Was this all an act or was he speaking from the heart.

"I would be better off not ever knowing you," yelled he.

"Ziggurat…please," said she weakly, "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."

"You have what you wanted from me, Maria! I no longer want to hear or see you! Please—if it is not too much to ask—send me back to my wretched life and you go back to your perfect one."

The last sentence he did not yell, but it was equally as scary.

"Z-Ziggurat…I'm so sorry…"

He gave her a deathly cold gaze and she gave in to his last request.