"Lord, give me the strength and courage
To look upon my body and soul
without disgust."
- Charles Baudelaire
Another human woke up in this unknown, underground garden. Their red eyes were lost in the dim landscape but quickly came back to their pulsing body.
The ghost could also hear that heartbeat, both living and dead dwelled in the sound of a new life.
" I ..."
The human "pulled out" a pulsing heart-shaped container, which was covered by similarly formed bones. It was as if their vessel had a ribcage of its own.
" I am alive ...?"
The ghost looked at the confused human, not sure of what was going on either. Furthermore, neither of them had any memory of the place they were in.
" This is ... my SOUL ...?"
Something ached inside the ghost, as surprising as it may be.
Weren't they supposed to be dead?
Were they truly deceased after all?
An unpleasant feeling ran through the fading existence, one too intense to make the ghost question if their death was real.
The human, eyes now full of disbelief, jolted as they remembered how they got here.
"I ... did kill them, I killed #$&€£"
The ghost was relieved somehow, despite having no idea why or how they perished. Death would have been painful at the hands of monsters, or at least that is what they thought.
There, the red-eyed human started crying. Tears flowed down their pale cheeks without a pause, repeating a name the ghost couldn't make sense of. Between sniffles, the human spoke, overwhelmed by guilt.
"I am so sorry ... I dragged you ... In all that ... O beloved."
A second surge of pain went through the ghost as if something broke inside their transparent body. It soon faded as well, when they saw the human crushed by regret.
Something deep inside told the ghost they were faulty, but they could not exactly put a name on it. In any case, it was unlike what the hu- no, it was unlike what the girl said.
That's right, the human was a girl, slightly taller and more endowed than them. Her tears stopped a while ago as she simply laid hazy eyes on her surroundings.
She gasped in horror once she looked past the ghost, right under the hole where the latter thought they fell from.
As the ghost turned around, their pupils shrunk from ... fear?
Something tall, ominous, and overall disturbing stood there. Fully coated in black, save for a masked face, the being was holding their hands high up.
It was as if they were thankful to exist.
Without a word, they walked past the ghost and stood beside the baffled human girl.
"Y-Y-YOU ... you managed to revive as well?!"
"It seems so, O Fallen princess."
The ghost now realized she was royalty, despite her bland appearance. The monster kneeled to her comically, to which she simply voiced a hmph before fully standing up on her two feet.
The odd living pair started moving out towards a marbled door frame, followed by a hesitant ghost who floated in their steps.
None of them noticed another dead being, who lurked in the darkness before tailing a human, a monster, and a ghost passing through a double staircase.
Further ahead, shades of pink with the purple ground covered the walls and ground respectively.
Seemingly inoffensive creatures populated the area, all seeming to be from down the area called " The Ruins."
In the one house that stood there, the scent of cinnamon pie and golden flower tea came to the human's mind. The inside was cozy, and the magical chimney kept the place warm and bright.
Yet, today was different. There were no pleasant fragrances or any sense of a sweet cozy home. Only dread loomed over the premises, accompanied by the smell of charred fur.
Down the only basement in the Ruins, there was a large monster standing by a door. They wore a tortured expression, one torn between frenzy and despair.
They haven't moved a muscle since they got there, which felt like hours to them.
They simply glared at the stone entrance with red and golden eyes, waiting for something to happen.
Someone to come ...
Anything ...
Nothing came, however.
There, the monster wept tears and screamed familiar names, before charging up a magical attack.
They aimed the blazing fireball at the door and released it. The door cracked slightly at the impact, followed by the sound of the trembling ceiling.
A smoking paw, staunched with crisped white fur and droplets of blood, shot another fireball.
And another.
And another.
And another..
Each attack had its lot of tremors and pebble drops, but both the door and the ceiling held themselves well. The frenzied monster stopped attacking after their arm stiffened and shot acute pain through the rest of their body.
On one knee, the monster slowly channeled a green aura in its other paw, in an attempt to heal the injured arm. The wounds healed slowly, and they couldn't focus hard enough without biting their lips to withstand the pain.
It took probably another hour for the monster to fully heal their arm, depleting their magical reserves and forcing them to sit down. Their back on the wall, they watched the slight rifts on the ceiling, drawn like branches of a tree.
They were not exactly sure why they were here or what they were doing, but something dark made them go crazy earlier this morning.
They have indulged in the same routine they kept since the last human went by, strolling to the other end of the ruins, greeting their fellow monsters, and staying alert in case some aggressive flower popped up.
That morning was just another peaceful one, however, and they made it back home safe and sound. Yet, there were two odd occurrences during their trip back to their abode.
One was something clutching onto their heart when they stood in the underground garden, akin to a human hand squeezing their SOUL until it burst.
The other was strange visions, whenever they greeted their fellow monsters. They saw them turning into dust for mere seconds, then found the same monsters alive and kicking.
Both events made them feel uneasy but hadn't been on their mind once they made some snail pie and a cup of golden tea.
A couple of sips and bites, and a couple of pages later, the old monster had its usual afternoon nap.
Unbeknownst to them, their fur started shifting to a darker color, spreading through half of their body.
An awful nightmare played as they were slowly being "corrupt", one they'd seen many times.
They were either killed by a human child, or stabbed right through their soul, as they were embracing them.
They were also slashed through their chest, their insides fell out of their limp body, and their SOUL was crushed by an old, child-sized shoe.
All of these played out until the culprit's image was printed on their mind, who this time was breaking their neck.
When they woke up, they noticed they felt ... different. Walking up to the mirror in the hallway, they were taken aback by their new appearance.
Their desire to keep children alive soon merged with an atrocious urge to kill, should it be necessary to keep said children from harm.
Their body moved along to the basement without thinking, pulling every magic reserve they had into offense.
Even the incantation was wrong, a proper fireball was normally created from nothingness, through the caster's mind.
This time, the fire came from within them: frustration, fear, hatred, guilt, dread, and powerlessness. All that could manifest compassionate heartburn.
All because they saw children go to their death, all because they couldn't stop them.