Chance encounters are often meant to be precisely that. One would think that the impact that they leave behind would be minimal, or at least, forgettable. Meeting a person, especially a person that is the epitome of unbridled cruelty, should have been a chance encounter that she discarded from her thoughts. For her, it was a disturbing, uncomfortable conversation, and it was not one that she wished to remember or even dwell on. She did not want to remember what she said, or what was said to her. But it could not be helped; she remembered everything vividly. And she remembered him too. She could not forget his voice, which spawned goose bumps all over her body upon thinking of it. Whether he breathed them out through his mask or spoke them in her mind, his every word stuck with her. She could not forget his eyes, those fiery orange orbs, that held in too much pain for one soul to bear. She could not forget his name, nor would she ever forget it. Mantis. Such a name belonged to a creature, an insect, not a man. He could not be a man. He did not see himself as one.
With his compassion lacking, and his mercy nonexistent, it would be fair to consider him more of a monster than a man. All life was meaningless, his own life included, and apart from playing the part that fate had given him, there was no legitimate reason for him to live. He hated himself, he hated the pointless, aimless freedom of life, and he hated the filth that lived alongside him. For that reason, he lived to 'enlighten' all who could not see as he could. In truth, he lived to make all life as miserable as himself. They all had to learn that life is not worth living, because life has no worth to begin with. They had to learn that trivial things like happiness, hope, and love, are fictitious and unattainable. In his travels, everyone learned his truth whether they wanted to or not. But she was different.
She claimed that he was wrong, she argued him with a passion that he did not believe her kind possessed. She refused to see, she refused to listen. Not only did he not accept such defiance, but what bothered him so greatly was that he had her in his grasp, and yet, she somehow escaped him. Her defiance was twofold, and for that, she would pay. He would make her pay. Unlike all of the other sheep he had encountered, and in some cases slaughtered, she stood out and alone from the rest. He could not forget her voice, so lively despite being devoid of true feeling. He could not forget her eyes, which shone blue, like her hair. He could not forget her name, nor would he ever forget it. Sarra. But if it were up to him, she would forget it, as he would break her mind entirely, to the point that even the simplest of memories would be lost. She would know nothing, she would be nothing, just as she was supposed to be. She would be broken.
Lying in her bed, she gazed up into the darkness, unable to drive him from her thoughts if only for a few hours. What he showed her, the horrible brutality that she saw, remained fixed in her mind like some kind of twisted illustration. She still could hear the screams, and the sound of fire burning and crackling. When she did not see such pain, she would see him there in her thoughts, simply standing in silence, all alone. She sat up in bed and pressed her palms against her eyes, trying and failing to get him out of her mind. But he remained. Slipping out of the covers, she took a big breath and gazed at the alarm clock at her bedside. She knew that Rosa, her sister, would not be awake, but she had to talk to her about this. When her sister first asked her if anything was wrong when she came home, she dodged the question. When her sister pressed her, she changed the subject. She loved her sister dearly, but she had not wanted her to worry. But now, in the early hours of the morning, she had to tell her everything about that fateful meeting. She had to tell her about him.
Walking to her sister's bedroom, wearing a tattered shirt and shorts instead of those oversized black robes, she was surprised when she discovered that the light downstairs was turned on. She quickly became anxious as she considered the possibility of it being him down there. It was not exactly fear, as she truly was not afraid of him, but her sister was both married and a mother, so she was more concerned for them than anything else. She would never forgive him if he harmed them. If he really was down there, then she had to face him, and she had to make sure that whatever problem he had remained with her, not her family. Slowly walking down the stairs, she followed the source of the light to the kitchen, and while she expected to see him sitting there, she instead found her sister, pouring two cups of tea.
"W-what are you doing?" she asked, even though she could clearly see what her sister was doing. Her sister smiled and brought the teacup to her.
"I know you too well, Sar," she answered. "I ought to, after all. You wanna tell me what's bothering you? From the moment you walked in the door, I knew, so you don't have to hide it. Unless you want to." Her sister was too kind. Among other things, she was a generous soul who was, in Sarra's eyes, further proof of the fact that Mantis really was wrong. She managed a smile of her own after taking a sip from the cup.
"I met someone," she began with apprehension. "I… I can't get him out of my mind. And no, it's not what you think."
"Oh? What is it then?" her sister asked with a smile, although she stopped upon seeing the worry in her sister's face.
"He was literally in my mind," she said, completely serious. "I heard his voice in my head. He had me trapped, unable to move. He showed me… terrible things. They were like projections, and I think they were moments from his life. It felt like I was there, watching… it was horrible."
"Hun, you're not making any –" her sister said before getting cut off.
"I know it sounds crazy. It probably is," she said, putting a hand on her sister's arm and giving it a squeeze. "But I can't stop thinking about him. I don't know if he's really powerful or if he was just able to catch me off my guard, but in any case, I have a bad feeling I'll be seeing him again. I'm not afraid of him, but I'm afraid I've put you, Rev, and the baby in danger and I'm just so, so sorry." Rosa put her cup down and put her hand over her sister's hand, smiling more tenderly now.
"You don't have to apologize," she told her. "We're safe here, I know we are. Nothing'll happen to you, or any of us. Me and Rev don't even know this guy, but we'll kill him before he ever thinks of hurting you." Sarra shook her head, unable now to hold back her tears. She had wanted to be strong, earlier in front of him and now in front of her sister, but the pain, his pain, which she kept bottled up, had taken its toll. Her sister pulled her in closer for a gentle hug.
"I don't want him to die," she admitted. "I don't want to hurt him. He's suffered enough. He has this pain, this hate, and I… I don't want him to feel it anymore." Now it was Rosa shaking her head.
"Sar, you don't know what you're saying," she told her. But her sister didn't listen.
"It may already be killing him!" she cried. "I think I felt it, I still can feel it, and it's… unbearable. I, I just… I don't want him to die." Despite the fact that she could not truly feel, and that her emotions were not legitimate, her tears were as real as any person's tears. The nerves that had hold of her and the shaking that came with it were real. The concern she felt, not only for her family but for him as well, was real. But not only that, but all of these apparent feelings that were overcoming her were things that she never felt, nor did she think she could feel them. But she was now. She wondered if he was to blame for this, or if he did something to her when he entered her mind. Regardless, she didn't know, and that feeling of not knowing was what concerned her the most.
"We're safe here," her sister reiterated. "I know we are. But whatever you're feeling toward this man… this is something you'll have to face. Come what may, he is not going to hurt you. Try to get some sleep, honey. If you need to talk, I'll be here." The two sisters walked back to Sarra's room and shared in another hug before separating. She got under the covers and lied there, once again gazing up into the darkness. Talking to her sister helped, but she still did not envision herself getting any sleep. She wanted to believe her sister, of course she wanted to believe her, but she could not help but worry. Her reasons for worrying were justified, because it would not belong before he would come. She felt that chill run down her neck. He felt so near, even though he was not in the room. At least, as far as she knew, he wasn't there. She could feel his rage and his hate echoing, pulsing through her mind. He had to have been here.
"Come out, come out," he whispered in her mind. "If you value the life of your beloved family, you will take a walk with me, my dear. Do not keep me waiting."
For the sake of the others she climbed out of that bed, getting dressed after doing so. Stepping out into the hallway, she saw that the light in her sister's bedroom was on. She could have told her of what she was about to do, of what she needed to do, but she instead say nothing, opting instead to go downstairs and out the door. She did not see him in that darkness, but as she could guess, he could see her. She froze when she heard his breathing, and took a breath of her own upon hearing him speak.
"You are either very brave," he hissed, unseen. "Or you are a fool." She just smiled when he was through.
"I know you're here. I can smell you," she said aloud. "If you want me, I'm right here." He stepped out into view then, as if the darkness of the night had been his shroud. She did not move. He extended a long arm toward her, opening his gloved hand for her to take. She knew now that he wasn't lying about wanting to take a walk, but regardless, she did not take his hand. She simply looked him in the eyes, his pain still apparent. Her smile was gone now, replaced with a look of slight pity, and he noticed. He pulled his hand away and folded his arms behind his back.
"Want you…? Hmph. I already have you," he said, before turning and walking away from the house. She started after him. She knew she had no choice. She could have simply just gone back inside, but he was right about one thing. He had her. And like her sister told her, this was something that she had to face.
"So what are you doing, Mantis? You plan on killing me?" she asked as they walked.
"…No," he answered simply, although it took a little time before he said something. She noticed, and her curiosity was piqued.
"Oh, do you not know? Did you just want to see me again?" she pressed him playfully, despite the tenseness of the situation. She could hear his voice take a vicious shift when he spoke again.
"I know everything, child," he spat. "You should know by now to hold your tongue."
"And you should know by now that you don't scare me," she fired back. "What is this? What are you doing, really?" Again he was slow to answer.
"…It is a surprise," he said, speaking softly through that mask. "You will have to wait and see." Hearing him say that threw her off, and she was starting to consider that he really did not know what he was doing. She hadn't been serious when she asked him if he just wanted to see her again, but now she was wondering if that could be a serious possibility. She walked with him in silence, and strangely, she actually felt a slight sense of comfort. She was not afraid, and she obviously was not completely comfortable, but to a degree, she felt at ease. She believed him when he said that he was not going to kill her. She shouldn't have, but with him, she felt safe. He walked as if he knew where he was going, which surprised her, as this was her home, not his. Had he looked into her mind, or was he just improvising? She walked with him until he stopped, and after giving him a look, she looked ahead and was taken aback.
He had taken them to the edge of a brook, a place that had happened to be one of her favorite places to relax. When she thought of home, she not only thought of family, but she thought of this place. The moon was particularly striking on this night, and it reflected off the water beautifully. He had to have looked into her mind to find out about this place, but why would he take her here? She looked at him with a contently surprised look on her face, while he just kept his eyes on the brook. She then looked at his hands, folded behind his back, and she noticed that they were ever so slightly shaking. He noticed it too, and he let his arms fall, clenching his hands into fists.
"Are you alright?" she carefully asked him. He said nothing at first. He did not even look at her.
"Have you ever been in a position where you were… conflicted?" he eventually asked her, not answering her question. What he said puzzled her, but she tried to give him an answer anyway.
"I think so. There have been plenty of times when I wasn't sure about what to do," she told him. But he shook his head.
"That is not what I mean," he said. "I am never unsure. But when you know you intend to do something, but feel that doubt, just that slightest hint of doubt…" He trailed off, and he puzzled her even further.
"I'm pretty sure that's what being unsure is," she said, again with care. "There's nothing wrong with being unsure… Hey. You didn't answer me before. Are you okay?" He shook his head again.
"No. No I am not," he answered, now turning to look at her. "You… I have not been able to get you out of my mind. So I suppose… yes, I am indeed unsure as to what I am to do next." She felt the nerves take hold of her. If she had a heart, it would have been racing.
"What… what do you mean?" she asked, taking a step back from him. She didn't know what he was saying, or what he would say. Her hands were shaking now as well.
"From the moment I met you, I knew that my fate was forever changed," he began. "I have lived so long, but only you have stood out in my mind. This will not do. So, I must ask you. Do you still believe that I am wrong?" She did not know what to say, or what to think. Why would he mention that she stuck out for him? And why would he say that it would not do? Just what was he planning to say, if anything? What was he planning to do? After thinking long about how to answer him, she looked at him dead in the face.
"…I do. I thought you would have already known that," she said, not backing down or wavering for a moment. He only nodded before looking back off to the water. He then said something that truly surprised her.
"I did. I just… hoped that you would have changed your mind. But so be it," he told her solemnly, taking hold of her mind. She immediately felt him and tried to resist, stepping back briefly before finding herself unable to move. She didn't have her knives, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway. She couldn't do anything. He gazed into her mind, spooling through her thoughts, her memories. Now it was his turn to be truly surprised. For in her mind, he saw himself. He saw her loved ones; a sister, a brother in law, a nephew. Even a young man, whom he assumed to be a boyfriend, or some sort of crush. But seeing himself was what surprised him so greatly. He didn't know how to react, which was new to him. He had been surprised, shocked even, which was also new to him. Beginning to feel overwhelmed, he spoke into her mind, for what he expected to be the last time.
"I have never let anyone defy me. I have never let anyone escape my grasp. I am afraid that you will be no different in that regard. This… this is the final chapter of my story, Sarra. Forgive me," was all he said. Then he broke her.
He showed her true pain. He showed her true fear. Everything he had showed her before, amplified and further detailed. And so much more. She saw tragedy, she saw death, she watched as her loved ones died around her. She felt every emotion all at once, burning in her pores, pouring out of them. She cried such an anguished, sorrowful cry, and its sound carried across the night. He normally relished in such pain, such anguish, but he did not feel such satisfaction this time. She fell to her knees, all of the emotions devastating her. He thought she would have collapsed, but instead she looked at him with such fire in her eyes. Almost savagely, she lunged toward him, punching at his gas masked face and clawing the part of his arms that were exposed. She wrapped her hands around his neck and squeezed, and all the while, he never reacted. Part of him expected such a reaction, so now that it was happening, he did not resist. He thought that she very well could kill him, and he found himself remaining cold, indifferent. His quickened breathing through his mask became sparse and choked as she squeezed. As things started going dark, he felt her grasp loosen, and then cease entirely. He saw the look on her face soften as the tears resumed falling down her face. She fell against his chest, her hands now clinging to his back. He stood in stunned silence, unable to move, his eyes widened in what had to have been disbelief.
She then collapsed at last, and she would have fallen to the earth had he not caught her. Her eyes were closed and every part of her shut down, as he anticipated. But she had not died. He thought he had broken her mind, but she was not truly broken. Not entirely. It would take time, but he knew she was strong enough to fully recover. He carried her in his arms back to her home, and in that time he was left alone with his thoughts, which were all over the place. It was not her reaction, or anything she said, or anything she did. It was the fact that he did not completely break her. He could have, but he did not, and he did not fully understand why. Nor did he understand why he would ask her to forgive him. He had never asked anyone to forgive him, nor did he envision ever asking it. But when he looked into her eyes, and into her mind, all he could do was ask for her forgiveness. Upon reaching her home, he telepathically unlocked the door and took her upstairs to her room. Surely he did not have to do this, but he found himself doing it anyway.
He laid her down into her bed and looked into her mind once more. It was far more troubled now, but even in that chaos, he still saw the ones she loved. And, to stun him even further, he still saw himself. He looked at her as she slept, his body trembling, his breath quickening. He then snapped to attention and turned his gaze to Rosa, who was standing in the bedroom's doorway. She appeared worried and angry all at once, and he could see the same fire that he saw earlier in Sarra's eyes. Despite the emotions taking hold of him, particularly the nerves, he was able to compose himself enough to speak.
"You were wrong," he said to her, referring to her declaration that he would not hurt her sister. He then looked down at Sarra and said one last thing before vanishing from the room and returning to the night.
"…And so was I."