"...Could I tell you a story?"
"Why, dear ɮʀօȶɦɛʀ, of course you may."
Abel took a deep breath, allowing his mind to dwell on the past.
"Once upon a time, there was a girl. Her name was Eumisia. She was a Chexenae, an anthropomorphic feline creature capable of higher thought."
The star tilted its head curiously but did not interrupt.
"She was born on a world that hung on the tip of a nebula that resembled a splatter of rich orange across the dark canvas of space. Even while so far away, planets from other nearby star systems harbored jealousy at how its surface was perfectly painted with such lush emerald and vibrant ocean blue."
The star could see it. My, how beautiful it was. He couldn't recall a planet so stunning and graceful before—in this abominable universe or the previous, perfect one.
"On the surface, the land was covered with beautiful, flourishing jungles, gardens of life that gave her and her people everything they could ever need. There was no need to be so petty and shed blood amongst themselves. For a time, everyone lived in harmony."
Abel paused as his eyes hazed in nostalgia. But it was soon soured by guilt. Quickly, he brushed it off.
"Even her."
The star perked its head up slightly. Another? Like it? In harmony? The thought was in vain, but nonetheless, envious. Oh, the sound of sweet sanity was so enticing.
"I knew what she was. An imperfection, a flaw, an abomination. A being who would act as a catalyst—a vortex—that would shatter the line between sanity and lunacy for her, and those around her."
Abel frowned. He looked at the star, his right eye ticking quietly.
Tick-tick-tick.
"But I did not take her life. At that time, I had thought myself above such cruelty. I was arrogant, prideful, and naive. I somehow believed I was too kind for murder. Especially for a life so sweet and innocent. Though, in hindsight, I was simply curious. I wanted to speak with her, to get to know her, to understand why she was the way she was."
That—that was his first mistake.
"I appeared before her in a likeness to her. She already knew who and what I was. She was not scared of me at all. We talked. We talked for a long time. We talked until the sun was setting on her world. I said I would come back again soon to talk further with her. She simply smiled and said 'I would like that'."
A soft smile curled on his lips.
"We met regularly in the days that followed. At first, we talked about trivial things. How her day was—her favorite foods, colors, pastime, and such. But over time, our conversations grew more intimate in regards to her private life."
Abel let out a weak croak of a laugh, his lungs still rotted and blood-soaked.
"Imagine me giving love advice."
The star shook its head as if dazed by Abel's words. He smirked at that before his smile suddenly dropped from his face.
"Time and time again, I was warned to cut ties with her, and put her out of her misery. Time and time again, I ignored them."
He could still hear their voices, apprising and chastising him.
"The change was slow. But I could feel it. As the days turned to a week and the more we met, I could feel the change happening in her mind. But I simply watched and waited."
Strike one.
"While she slept, she dreamt of nihilism and the pitiful, finite extent of her own existentialism. But I did nothing. I was uncertain."
Strike two.
"It wasn't long before all these emotions and thoughts in such a focalized point could no longer be contained. It burst forth from her mind into reality; and began infecting everyone and everything on the planet. The cells, the bacteria, the trees, the water, and even the dead had all become mad. And still, I hesitated."
Strike three.
Abel lowered his gaze, the memory still feeling fresh in his mind. Thanks to Adam.
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.
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"KILL ME—!"
Eusmisia screamed as she clutched her head and began tearing out her hair. Her scream was so visceral and blood-curdling. She felt like she would hack up her vocal cords like a hairball.
Reality had warbled, bent, and cracked all around her. As she lay there, begging and pleading for death, the fabric of materiality began to contort and twist as if reacting in pain to her presence. In a matter of moments, she began transcending dimensional space. Planes of existence began having little to no meaning.
Third, then fourth, to the fifth, and so on.
Bonds were broken, and barriers were shattered. She had become a vortex of madness.
"I… I can't—! You're innocent!"
Even still. Despite everything, Abel couldn't bring himself to take her life.
"Do it, Abel."
Abel snapped toward the voice that called out his name. It was Cain.
He walked calmly through the chaos, untouched and unfazed by the mania. His face may have been relaxed, but his eyes held a cold and grave gaze that he cast upon his brother.
"Why…? Why are you here?" Abel gasped.
"I appeared here to the ones whose lives have ended, and I have already asked them my question."
Cain reached out to try and touch the psychosis in the air. Perhaps this would finally do it. Alas, it was repelled away from his body like a pair of magnets with the same polarity. He frowned before looking back to his brother.
"I remain because my duty is still not done."
"I… I can't… I won't—"
"You and I both know you are fully capable of murder. Whenever your madness ran rampant, you always acted quickly and stifled it through whatever means you saw fit. Now, that same madness threatens the universe. How long will you continue to wait? How long will you ignore these warnings?"
Abel said nothing.
"Until the stars go mad? Until the nebulae becomes infected as well? Until the very fabric of reality is torn asunder?!"
With each example, Cain's voice grew louder and harsher. He paused, taking a brief moment to calm himself.
"Everyone kills, Abel. Whether intentionally or not. You chose not to kill this girl. And now, you must kill this planet before it poisons everything else."
"I—I don't take innocent lives."
"Abel."
His name was spoken with such softness to it. It cracked him to his very core.
"Accept it. You've failed to kill her and now you must reap the consequences of your indolence. By your own actions, she has become guilty."
Abel buried his face in his hands, the shame swelling inside of himself. But he would not weep. He was not so pitiful as to shed tears for himself and his pathetic excuses.
"Now go. Snuff out the sun."
Shakily, Abel approached the star. It was so bright, so brilliant. He could feel it. As it flickered and flared. It was scared. So was he. He brought his hands up to smother it, but couldn't seem to tighten his fingers. He was shaking violently. He couldn't find the strength to steady himself and gripped it firmly.
Time was passing, and time was running out.
Do it. Do it. Do it—!
"I'll do it."
A new voice muttered behind him.
"—!"
Abel spun around to see Isaac approaching the two.
"Very well," Cain conceded. "But this will be the only time that Isaac bears your burden. Understood?"
Abel could only reply in silence.
"It's okay, Abel. I'm used to this."
Isaac flashed a smile but it didn't meet his eyes. To hide it, he closed them as he smiled.
"I'm sorry…" Abel whimpered in a hushed whisper.
Isaac brushed past Abel and brandished his sword. He took a deep breath before heaving the blade down to smite the sun.
"I'm sorry…"
In an instant, the light was smothered and the madness ceased.
"… I'm sorry…"
But he was talking to the nothingness of the void of space where once a star and a planet stood.
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.
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The star gave no reaction to the ending of the Mythic's tale. It knew how the story would end. There would be no happy endings.
It reflected upon it in silence for a few moments. The longer it thought, the more confused it became.
"Why tell me such a 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑒𝒹𝓎, brother?"
Abel looked up at the star through half-lidded eyes.
"What I do. I do it out of necessity. I take no pride in it. I do not do it out of contempt or malice. I do it because I am a Mythic."
"Ɓ૨σƭɦε૨, I do not ᵘℕĐⓔℝ丂𝐭αℕĐ. What is it that you are ͓̽s͓̽a͓͓̽̽y͓͓̽̽i͓̽—"
Suddenly, the star felt something latch onto its back. It was a liquid of some kind. It felt heavy, thick, and viscid. It began slowly inching its way up the star's back. Startled, the star tried reaching behind itself to pull off whatever it was. As it attempted to pry itself free from the liquid, its hand became covered in the substance. It looked at it, fearful and curious.
It appeared to be black ink.
The edges had congealed to form a more gelatinous texture, while the center was fluid and sloshed about. It gave no hesitation as it began trailing up the star's forearm. The star kept trying to pry the ink off its body but to no avail. If anything, its efforts just seemed to coat its body even further.
Agitated and anxious, the star looked to the Mythic, only to be met with deadened, scarlet eyes. They were unreadable. They had no discernable emotion within them. There was no hatred, no pity, no remorse.
It was just madness. Cold, calculated madness.
The ink shot out tendril-like appendages, clutching firmly onto the star's neck. It clung to it like a rapturous parasite, nestling and burrowing itself deep into its flesh. Slowly, the tendrils began to tighten their grip. Reflexively, the star opened its mouth to gasp for air, but it only served to welcome the symbiote. The tendrils latched onto the oral commissures and tubercles, keeping them spread and ajar as the main body dove into the star's mouth, mercilessly flooding it. It wanted to gasp and heave, but there was no air to do so.
In a single instant, the star could feel its very life being snuffed from existence.
"Ugh—"
Abel winced as he began picking himself back onto his feet. He stood (albeit barely) and watched idly. No need to dirty his own hands. At least, any more than necessary.
The story served its purpose well. It was a suitable distraction to stall long enough for the blood he had hacked up earlier to make its way to them.
Somewhere. Sometime long ago, Abel might have felt guilty for using such a devious and conniving tactic. No, that was probably just a figment of his imagination. Why would he be apologetic for something that was within his very nature?
The star collapsed onto the ground, violently writhing back and forth as it held its neck. Left, right. Left and right. Its back twisted and contorted as it tried hacking up the vile liquid. But it simply tautened itself further. By this point, all of the star's air had already been expended.
It was hurting. It had never been hurt like this before. It was always left by its lonesome. It was scary. The way the burning heat of the pain slowly turned cold and numb, then suddenly turned into a sensation that was soothing and warm. It was afraid. It wants to be held.
Dear brother, won't you hold me? No. You won't. You don't love me.
Its light began to slowly flicker and wither away as darkness enveloped its body.
No—ⓝⓞ, 𝔫𝔬, 𐌍Ꝋ, ᏁᎧ, 🄽🄾, ภ๏, ̶n̶̶o̶—
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v^√√v^──√v^√v^──√v^√√v^──v^√√v^──√v^√v^──√v^√√v^──
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√v^√√v^──√v^√√v^──√v^√√v^──────────────────────────
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NOOOOOOOOOOOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON -. - - --- - - - - - - - - — ⊡⟃⟃⟃⟃⟃⟃⟃⟃⟃ ︎ ︎::::::: :::::::. :::::::. :::::::. :::::::. :::::::. :::::::. :::::::. :::::::. :::::::. :::::::. :::::::.
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Suddenly, the star flared as it screamed out in defiance, heat from its anger manifesting as light that radiated out. Abel quickly shut his eyes and brought his hand up to shield them from the fervid, blinding light. He could feel the edges of his jacket's coattail and cuffs growing hot and becoming singed. Despite the protection, the sheer intensity of the starlight still left him stunned as he stumbled backward.
Just as suddenly as it flashed into existence, the light fizzled out and stopped. Abel waited a few seconds before lowering his guard.
One. Two. Three.
He looked back to see the star. It no longer took the form of a human. Instead, it was now a glowing white orb. It hovered a few feet above the ground, emitting a low hum as it stared at Abel. It didn't have eyes, but he could feel its gaze burrowing into him. Abel looked down to see specks of ash skittering on the ground directly below the star. It was his blood. Or at least the charred remains of it.
Abel stared back at the star with bated breath. The best chance he had of subduing the star had crumbled to dust. No matter. It seems he would have to dirty his hands just a bit.
Quickly, he grasped the bandages covering his left forearm and pried it off, unsheathing his strings. But before he could spin them around his fingertips, the star flared once again. Immediately, Abel's senses were assaulted by a spasm of schizophrenic color codings.
Red, orange, yellow, green, white, blue, orange, yellow, red, blue, white, green, white—the utter disconnected and disconcerted nature of the colors nearly overwhelmed the Mythic. The whole room strobed and flashed rapidly, inducing a psychedelic effect. The sporadic flashes of color caused the existing light rays in the room to warp and distort. The sheer sight of it would have caused epileptic seizures to occur in mere moments.
All sense of equilibrium, balance, and direction was lost to Abel. Clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, he flicked his wrist, sending out a web of strings all around him. Crooking the phalanges of his fingers, he began to guide them to survey the room. Despite his visual impairment, his sense of touch would more than suffice. The strings would eventually find something.
Twisting, swirling, whirling, weaving, catch, caught, snag—
Abel's middle finger hitched as the string found its target. Abel snapped his fingers, causing the other threads to coil around the star. His hand began shaking as the star thrashed against his grasp. The strings had even begun hacking and scissoring into his skin, drawing blood. But Abel ignored the pain. Compared to what he endured earlier, they just felt like paper cuts.
He clenched his fingers to make a crude, loose fist. As his fingers moved closer and closer to the center of his palm, the more difficult it became. His finger felt tight and taut as he strained his strength against the star. But he could feel it. Its life being smothered and snuffed.
More… just a little more—!
In desperation, the star let out one final burst of light that consumed everything in pure white. The strings around its body caught fire. The flames trailed up back toward the weaver. Abel had no time to react as his strands disintegrated into nothing, as his flesh was scorched. Abel hissed as he reeled back, clutching his forearm.
Abel could do nothing as the star continued to wail. It wasn't long before the room and the Mythic were consumed in a sea of white light. Then, everything went dark.
For a few moments, there was only silence. Nothingness soon after took its place. There was no star. There was no Mythic. And there was no madness.
.
.
.
Abel gasped as he opened his eyes. It was as if he was awakening from a dream. He looked around. The room was gone. He was standing in the fields of Keilah once again.
"Tch—!"
Abel internally cursed at himself.
Reality was cracking apart at the seams. Logic and rationality had eroded away, bending to the whims and wishes of the star. What had happened could have all just been chalked up to a figment of imagination. But as this thought crossed his mind, he felt stinging pains irking his body, partially on his hands and left forearm. He looked to see cuts on his hands and burn marks on his forearm. The wounds and scars he had gave him indication that what had transpired was indeed real.
The star had escaped.
Sensing a looming presence behind him, Abel spun around to see Luminous.
"Mythic."
Its voice bellowed out as he pointed at Abel.
"You would dare to squander our hospitality? To trespass upon such sacred grounds and try to kill one of our own?"
Abel said nothing as his eyes carefully studied Luminous.
The star was different. It no longer was the star he met at the gates, nor was it the star he had once witnessed be born from stardust.
"You have committed the gravest of sins. You have been judged."
Abel subtly clenched his fists, giving no mind to the blood he was squeezing out from his open lacerations.
"The universe is dying and you too shall meet your end."
"Yes," Luminous said nonchalantly. "But what difference does it make if it ends now, or billions of years later?"
Nihilism. Self-destruction. Abel's suspicions were all but confirmed.
"We are stars. It is better that it ends now in such a glorious and righteous manner, than have it fizzle out to the cold and emptiness of space."
Abel's words fell upon deaf, maddened ears. They meant nothing now. They were no more valuable than puffs and huffs of inflated air. But he could do nothing against the star. All his options had been exhausted.
"You will not leave this place unpunished. You and the child."
Abel's eyes widened as Luminous stepped aside, revealing the girl was contracted to. She stood motionless, staring up at Luminous like an obedient child awaiting punishment by a strict parent. Her eyes flickered slightly as she felt tears welling up in her eyes.
She tried moving but could only feel her body shaking in response. She was hypnotized by fear. Ysabelle could only stare as Luminous lowered its gaze toward her.
"Do not fret, child. Your punishment shall be swift and merciful, unlike most."
She was not just a child. She had a name. She was Ysabelle!
"I am Ysabelle.." she muttered through her quivering lips. Tears began to spill out from her eyes as she boldly declared her name.
"I… I am… I am—!"
"You speak in a combination of words that ultimately have no meaning."
Luminous reached out toward her. A singular finger ablaze with starlight. It vaporized the dust molecules in the air, turning them into bits and wisps of smoke as it slowly made its way to Ysabelle. She remained still, unable to pry her gaze from her estranged relative.
She could feel it. It was true, the things they said about the moment just before someone passes away. She could see it. The story—the story of her life flashing before her eyes.
Abel could only watch from a short distance away.
No, no, no—! It wasn't meant to be like this!
He was too far away from her. There was no possible way for him to reach her and pull her toward safety. There was nothing he could do. He could only stare.
Then, suddenly, the hand stopped, seemingly suspended in the air. Ysabelle remained as well, continuing to stare at her impending fate. For a brief moment, Abel is dazed. Then, he sees a tear frozen in time, no longer bound by gravity. He realizes what has happened. He lets out a sharp inhale as he spins around.
"Adam—!"
Adam emerged from behind Abel. His hands are folded in front of himself, solemn and somber.
He looks at Abel. His lips form an indifferent frown, but the facial muscles around his eyes were scrunched and wrinkled with pity.
"Adam," Abel called again. "Let me go."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Abel."
"I… I need to save her," Abel whispered. His voice is strangely strained.
"Abel, you know as well as I do that you cannot save her."
Abel turned back to Ysabelle. He could see Luminous' hand inch towards the child once again. He sees her lips moving to form her last words. Her declaration, her identity. Her name.
"All we can do is witness."
It all moves in slow motion in front of him. Its hand, her lips, the tear.
Don't blink. Don't you dare blink. You deserve to see this.
Abel's eyes became wide, his pupils dilated—an act of self-punishment. He would bear witness to his failure. His memory would be a testament to his negligence.
"I… am…"
"As if your words would ever change anything. Begone child."
The finger closes the gap between itself and her forehead. They are connected. For a fraction of a moment, the hand is somehow comforting to Ysabelle. She closes her eyes, ceasing her tears. They mean nothing now. In an instant, she is set alight, burning brighter than any star in the night sky. Then, she crumples away into dust.
A strange wind blows from the horizon, scattering the ashes of the star child past Abel. He reaches out, managing to catch a few specks. He doesn't know why he reached out. It seemed instinctual to him.
Oh, how in a world where he was loved by righteousness would he have shed a tear for the child. Instead, he slowly opens his hand to see her remains and only felt hollow.
"As for you Mythic. We shall not kill you. That would be far more problematic. Another aspect of yourself will simply take your place amongst the multiplicities of Madness."
Outstretching both hands, Luminous summoned forth an orb of pure darkness. No, it wasn't an orb. That was all that Abel could perceive in the third-dimensional space.
"Behold, the event horizon. A prison most fitting for your kind."
Immediately, Abel felt his body being pulled towards the orb.
"Nothing shall escape from here. No light. No sound. And certainly, not your madness."
That was the last thing Abel heard before he was sucked into the singularity. His gasps swallowed by the void.
"Good night, Mythic."