Black Feather: Episode LV
"Division"
???
11:20 p.m., 03/25
[...Things aren't going so well...]
...Have things ever went well in this world...?
[...What'll I do now...?]
...Do what you think is right... Just get out of here alive...
[...But... how...?]
...There... there's a door... go there...
[...I... I don't know if I could do it... I'm tired...]
...Just go... there's no time left... either it's now or never...
[...I can't... It feels good to rest here... the silence... the soothing glow of the green fluid... It's cold, but...]
...Just do it...! You... you wanted to make a change, didn't you...?
[...I guess so...]
...What about Iris...? She needs you... more than ever right now... The world... needs you...
[...Why is it that I'm always stuck with these damn responsibilities!? Why can't everyone just leave me alone...?]
...They can't... because they need you... Destiny is cruel... I know...
[...]
...Do what you will... it's up to you... just... promise me something...
[...What...?]
...Protect... protect Iris... for me...
[...I... I don't... Fine... alright... I promise... but first... give me a clue... to who you are...]
...I am... I was... a man... who wasn't supposed to die...
_____________________________
Qastor awoke, staring into his palm. There were more wrinkles streaking across now. Festoons of deep apricot hue indicated his stress. But, looking into his hands, he promised himself. no, he made a commitment to himself that he would carve out his own destiny, that if he can't find out who he really is, he would just have to earn his identity. Time to take action. A strong man doesn't need a destiny handed to him; he makes his own, a wise warrior once said.
He clenched his hand into a vigorous fist. An empowering air sailed about him as he quickly stood on his two feet again, the numerous glass shards under him chaffing against the frosty floor, the green liquid now plates of inanimate curves. Qastor boldly made his way to the frozen door. Pumping his shoulders, he shoved it wide open. Specks of ice sparkled in the ensuing light, glowing about him and clicking onto the floor.
"Qastor... Where are you going?" Iris looked up at a parting Qastor.
"To face Qain."
"W-wait... What about Lucifer?" Garnet noticed Qastor walking past her.
"He just left."
"What!? Where!?" Garnet was the second to get up. Qastor shrugged.
"Gone after I blacked out." She looked down. Qastor faced the rest of the group. "I'm outta here. If any of you wants to get out of this frozen hell, then get moving." Not to his surprise, they all got up with renewed hope and vigor. Somehow, the light from the door subsided as it had poured in. Qastor faced the dreadful hallway echoing before him.
_____________________________
Veils of cobwebs deceptively occluded the group's path. Qastor led them, tearing the cobwebs away with a quick, wide wave of his hand, and keeping a fully loaded pistol available. Malirant took the flank, in case someone, or something, should unexpectedly pop up from behind. Dim, archaic, green lamps paved a depressing path. Random water drops sent echoes bouncing through the hall. Hidden congregations of moss thrived from damp cracks and crevasses. Their footsteps tapped and knocked at the adamant stone floor.
"Hey, look..." Qastor turned his head around and found Rose pointing at an inconspicuous door to their right in the distance. They continued through the hall. Qastor gripped the frozen knob, and seeing as it won't budge, proceeded to forcing his way in with a heavy kick. Vibrating from the impact, the door creaked open, revealing a scene much to their horror.
There, on a red-stained, nipped stone table was a corpse. Upon distant inspection, Qastor found it deprived of its eyeballs, its mouth long open in the most horrific way, as if the person had died a most excruciatingly violent death. Qastor scanned some more, and found a flower of dully glimmering spikes shooting out from the corpse's disemboweled abdomen and chest, morsels, chunks of flesh, and heart frozen stabbed at the blood- rusted tips. The corpse's body was arched up from the stomach, as if the spikes had shrilled out from the table. A grated bowl spat out flaccid cackles of emerald flames in the far wall. But, it wasn't the malformed victim on the table that shocked Qastor, it was what hung on the walls...
Male humans of every age, young and old, ill and healthy, posed as dead and agonized statues. Each was supported by a dull, but deadly hook, which pierced from the backs of their necks, and glared conspicuously out from the front; their Adam's Apples rotted from the curved tips of the hook. Most had no eyes, with ancient blood dripping and oozing from their eye sockets, while the rest showed off their dilapidating eyeballs, eaten away by once-thriving flies and maggots, now dead from the foul, blood-curdling stench of unheard screams and desiccated gore. Screaming was what every victim was once doing, and still is. Their jaws were so low from their normal positions, Qastor was convinced that the victims must've disconnected their own jaws from screaming so harshly. They were all cloaked in torn cloths, and the group dared not to think of what hid inside. Congregations of metallic, rusted surgical tools slept on the ground, silently chattering amongst themselves of past operations.
Seeing as it was a complete struggle for the females of the group to cope with such bloodshed, Qastor shut the wooden door closed, the death aroma still seeping out from the gap underneath. They continued on their way.
Qastor soon spotted a door clad in frosty cobwebs to their left. Making short work of them, Qastor kicked the door several times, but to no avail. With the aid of Malirant, the door banged open, and a heavy lock clamored onto the ground. The two peeped in first. It was a living quarters of some type. It consisted of a wall-hung bed, a desk with no chair, and a barely functional laptop, the only source of light in that space of darkness. A man sitting hunched over with his bald head down and hidden caught their attention. Qastor cocked his gun.
"Hey... You over there... Who are you and what are you doing there?" Qastor found himself without a reply. "Hey-"
All of a sudden, the man started with desperate vigor, lurching himself at Qastor, his mouth long and wide open, his eye-less sockets swallowed the dreadful air as he advanced, his depressingly slender arms brandishing. Qastor pulled the trigger at point blank, withdrawing to the opposite wall of the hallway behind him, the females yelping at the burst of the pistol. The bullet had blasted through the man's left chest, releasing a dense puff of dust and ash in lieu of blood. Instantly, the man fell on his front body, colliding with the floor and crumbling into masses of dust.
"What in... heaven's name is Qain doing here...?" Iris finally spoke. Qastor cautiously stepped through the hills of dust and made his way for the computer.
X month, X day, X year
Searching
Log Entry of Qain - 2:4:1
"My search for the 'Progeny,' or the Last Child for that matter, still goes on. Since I am left with no clue as to how old the Last Child may be, I have no other options but to prey upon the candidates, boring into their innards to seek a sporadic H-1 DNA strand. So far, no progress has been made, but the list of candidates is slowly shrinking. However, the possibility of the Progeny not being on that list still racks my mind."
-END MESSAGE-
Qastor called the others in, much to their displeasure. They all read the entry, cringing at the very word. After that, Qastor searched further, and his efforts came to fruition.
X month, X day, X year
Subject found
Log Entry of Qain - 6:6:6
"I have finally found the Last Child. A multitude of excruciatingly painful tests had been subjected unto him. I continued the tests despite his screams and curses, knowing that he wo1uld dissociate at one time or another. I almost forgot to mention. Due to the tests, the Last Child has been inflicted with a mental disorder known as DID, or Dissociative Identity Disorder. I almost pity him, but it is only a matter of time before I find the other Children as well. I have successfully extracted the Transcendent DNA, but the tests must resume, as the identities of all the Children rests somewhere within him. I know it."
-END MESSAGE-
X month, X day, X year
Subject lost
Log Entry of Qain - 13:13:13
"The Progeny has escaped. It was during one of the tests that Omnis took over. The lab is completely destroyed, and my entire face is burned off. But, by using the surviving data in which I have acquired from the Last Child, I was able to reconstruct my face, one that resembles his once he reaches my age. Due to the artificial nature of my being, this is all possible without the possibility of organ rejection. The Transcendent DNA strains were completely destroyed also, among other precious data, but I need them not, for I have memorized the identities of the rest of the Children. It is only a matter of time."
-END MESSAGE-
Another entry in a trash folder caught Qastor's attention.
X month, X day, X year
My sanity
Log Entry of Rey Vyn - 0:0:0
"I have discovered an ancient structure on the other side of the world, which is where I'm currently located. I feel strange being here, as if something is trying to take hold of my mind. I admit, there was always this side of me that I've constantly feared. But now, it seems to be awakening. I fear I may be deprived of my sanity, but I never felt so close to my 'family' before. Perhaps it is here that I may find answers..."
-END MESSAGE-
Qastor and the rest stared hard into the screen with disbelief, except for Garnet. Iris stood next to Qastor, trying to comprehend what this was with him, while Malirant and the rest made their way to the door. It was at that instant that a wall separated the group, rising with surprising speed from inconspicuous gaps in the walls and floor. The other three were already outside of the room when it happened. The door shut closed and several walls from the previous hallway closed in front of the three. Rose covered her mouth in astonishment, stepping back and bumping into a hopeless and silent Malirant, who was fatigued after beating at the door. Garnet turned around to the only open hall left.
Qastor was right against the wall, pounding into the bricks while Iris hollered the other three's names. A section of the wall behind them disappeared, revealing another path. The two looked at the secret hall, then at each other in ominous amazement.
The two groups parted in different paths, not knowing that it may be the last time they saw each other ever again.
The computer died out.
"Division"
???
11:20 p.m., 03/25
[...Things aren't going so well...]
...Have things ever went well in this world...?
[...What'll I do now...?]
...Do what you think is right... Just get out of here alive...
[...But... how...?]
...There... there's a door... go there...
[...I... I don't know if I could do it... I'm tired...]
...Just go... there's no time left... either it's now or never...
[...I can't... It feels good to rest here... the silence... the soothing glow of the green fluid... It's cold, but...]
...Just do it...! You... you wanted to make a change, didn't you...?
[...I guess so...]
...What about Iris...? She needs you... more than ever right now... The world... needs you...
[...Why is it that I'm always stuck with these damn responsibilities!? Why can't everyone just leave me alone...?]
...They can't... because they need you... Destiny is cruel... I know...
[...]
...Do what you will... it's up to you... just... promise me something...
[...What...?]
...Protect... protect Iris... for me...
[...I... I don't... Fine... alright... I promise... but first... give me a clue... to who you are...]
...I am... I was... a man... who wasn't supposed to die...
_____________________________
Qastor awoke, staring into his palm. There were more wrinkles streaking across now. Festoons of deep apricot hue indicated his stress. But, looking into his hands, he promised himself. no, he made a commitment to himself that he would carve out his own destiny, that if he can't find out who he really is, he would just have to earn his identity. Time to take action. A strong man doesn't need a destiny handed to him; he makes his own, a wise warrior once said.
He clenched his hand into a vigorous fist. An empowering air sailed about him as he quickly stood on his two feet again, the numerous glass shards under him chaffing against the frosty floor, the green liquid now plates of inanimate curves. Qastor boldly made his way to the frozen door. Pumping his shoulders, he shoved it wide open. Specks of ice sparkled in the ensuing light, glowing about him and clicking onto the floor.
"Qastor... Where are you going?" Iris looked up at a parting Qastor.
"To face Qain."
"W-wait... What about Lucifer?" Garnet noticed Qastor walking past her.
"He just left."
"What!? Where!?" Garnet was the second to get up. Qastor shrugged.
"Gone after I blacked out." She looked down. Qastor faced the rest of the group. "I'm outta here. If any of you wants to get out of this frozen hell, then get moving." Not to his surprise, they all got up with renewed hope and vigor. Somehow, the light from the door subsided as it had poured in. Qastor faced the dreadful hallway echoing before him.
_____________________________
Veils of cobwebs deceptively occluded the group's path. Qastor led them, tearing the cobwebs away with a quick, wide wave of his hand, and keeping a fully loaded pistol available. Malirant took the flank, in case someone, or something, should unexpectedly pop up from behind. Dim, archaic, green lamps paved a depressing path. Random water drops sent echoes bouncing through the hall. Hidden congregations of moss thrived from damp cracks and crevasses. Their footsteps tapped and knocked at the adamant stone floor.
"Hey, look..." Qastor turned his head around and found Rose pointing at an inconspicuous door to their right in the distance. They continued through the hall. Qastor gripped the frozen knob, and seeing as it won't budge, proceeded to forcing his way in with a heavy kick. Vibrating from the impact, the door creaked open, revealing a scene much to their horror.
There, on a red-stained, nipped stone table was a corpse. Upon distant inspection, Qastor found it deprived of its eyeballs, its mouth long open in the most horrific way, as if the person had died a most excruciatingly violent death. Qastor scanned some more, and found a flower of dully glimmering spikes shooting out from the corpse's disemboweled abdomen and chest, morsels, chunks of flesh, and heart frozen stabbed at the blood- rusted tips. The corpse's body was arched up from the stomach, as if the spikes had shrilled out from the table. A grated bowl spat out flaccid cackles of emerald flames in the far wall. But, it wasn't the malformed victim on the table that shocked Qastor, it was what hung on the walls...
Male humans of every age, young and old, ill and healthy, posed as dead and agonized statues. Each was supported by a dull, but deadly hook, which pierced from the backs of their necks, and glared conspicuously out from the front; their Adam's Apples rotted from the curved tips of the hook. Most had no eyes, with ancient blood dripping and oozing from their eye sockets, while the rest showed off their dilapidating eyeballs, eaten away by once-thriving flies and maggots, now dead from the foul, blood-curdling stench of unheard screams and desiccated gore. Screaming was what every victim was once doing, and still is. Their jaws were so low from their normal positions, Qastor was convinced that the victims must've disconnected their own jaws from screaming so harshly. They were all cloaked in torn cloths, and the group dared not to think of what hid inside. Congregations of metallic, rusted surgical tools slept on the ground, silently chattering amongst themselves of past operations.
Seeing as it was a complete struggle for the females of the group to cope with such bloodshed, Qastor shut the wooden door closed, the death aroma still seeping out from the gap underneath. They continued on their way.
Qastor soon spotted a door clad in frosty cobwebs to their left. Making short work of them, Qastor kicked the door several times, but to no avail. With the aid of Malirant, the door banged open, and a heavy lock clamored onto the ground. The two peeped in first. It was a living quarters of some type. It consisted of a wall-hung bed, a desk with no chair, and a barely functional laptop, the only source of light in that space of darkness. A man sitting hunched over with his bald head down and hidden caught their attention. Qastor cocked his gun.
"Hey... You over there... Who are you and what are you doing there?" Qastor found himself without a reply. "Hey-"
All of a sudden, the man started with desperate vigor, lurching himself at Qastor, his mouth long and wide open, his eye-less sockets swallowed the dreadful air as he advanced, his depressingly slender arms brandishing. Qastor pulled the trigger at point blank, withdrawing to the opposite wall of the hallway behind him, the females yelping at the burst of the pistol. The bullet had blasted through the man's left chest, releasing a dense puff of dust and ash in lieu of blood. Instantly, the man fell on his front body, colliding with the floor and crumbling into masses of dust.
"What in... heaven's name is Qain doing here...?" Iris finally spoke. Qastor cautiously stepped through the hills of dust and made his way for the computer.
X month, X day, X year
Searching
Log Entry of Qain - 2:4:1
"My search for the 'Progeny,' or the Last Child for that matter, still goes on. Since I am left with no clue as to how old the Last Child may be, I have no other options but to prey upon the candidates, boring into their innards to seek a sporadic H-1 DNA strand. So far, no progress has been made, but the list of candidates is slowly shrinking. However, the possibility of the Progeny not being on that list still racks my mind."
-END MESSAGE-
Qastor called the others in, much to their displeasure. They all read the entry, cringing at the very word. After that, Qastor searched further, and his efforts came to fruition.
X month, X day, X year
Subject found
Log Entry of Qain - 6:6:6
"I have finally found the Last Child. A multitude of excruciatingly painful tests had been subjected unto him. I continued the tests despite his screams and curses, knowing that he wo1uld dissociate at one time or another. I almost forgot to mention. Due to the tests, the Last Child has been inflicted with a mental disorder known as DID, or Dissociative Identity Disorder. I almost pity him, but it is only a matter of time before I find the other Children as well. I have successfully extracted the Transcendent DNA, but the tests must resume, as the identities of all the Children rests somewhere within him. I know it."
-END MESSAGE-
X month, X day, X year
Subject lost
Log Entry of Qain - 13:13:13
"The Progeny has escaped. It was during one of the tests that Omnis took over. The lab is completely destroyed, and my entire face is burned off. But, by using the surviving data in which I have acquired from the Last Child, I was able to reconstruct my face, one that resembles his once he reaches my age. Due to the artificial nature of my being, this is all possible without the possibility of organ rejection. The Transcendent DNA strains were completely destroyed also, among other precious data, but I need them not, for I have memorized the identities of the rest of the Children. It is only a matter of time."
-END MESSAGE-
Another entry in a trash folder caught Qastor's attention.
X month, X day, X year
My sanity
Log Entry of Rey Vyn - 0:0:0
"I have discovered an ancient structure on the other side of the world, which is where I'm currently located. I feel strange being here, as if something is trying to take hold of my mind. I admit, there was always this side of me that I've constantly feared. But now, it seems to be awakening. I fear I may be deprived of my sanity, but I never felt so close to my 'family' before. Perhaps it is here that I may find answers..."
-END MESSAGE-
Qastor and the rest stared hard into the screen with disbelief, except for Garnet. Iris stood next to Qastor, trying to comprehend what this was with him, while Malirant and the rest made their way to the door. It was at that instant that a wall separated the group, rising with surprising speed from inconspicuous gaps in the walls and floor. The other three were already outside of the room when it happened. The door shut closed and several walls from the previous hallway closed in front of the three. Rose covered her mouth in astonishment, stepping back and bumping into a hopeless and silent Malirant, who was fatigued after beating at the door. Garnet turned around to the only open hall left.
Qastor was right against the wall, pounding into the bricks while Iris hollered the other three's names. A section of the wall behind them disappeared, revealing another path. The two looked at the secret hall, then at each other in ominous amazement.
The two groups parted in different paths, not knowing that it may be the last time they saw each other ever again.
The computer died out.