Speech = ``...´´
Thoughts = [... ]
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Despair…
A total, utter lack of hope.
A simple word whose meaning seemed cheap to what it tried to refer to, a single word merely used as a quaint and impersonal description of that searing feeling of emptiness and hopelessness that takes over ones own body and wrecks it from the inside out like a hungry breast mauling its prey.
An emotion that could bring the worst in people, a poison that festered so deep inside and yet in such terrible silence, away from the prying eyes of the world before such sinful flower bloomed in all its glory.
Slowly or rapidly gnawing away at the morals or resolve of one person infected of it, leaving cracks where there before had been purity and kindness, and chips and dents where there had been peace and honesty.
A needle so small yet so sharp that poked and poked, its itch one that could not be ignored nor fought. A sting that could be found anywhere and everywhere, most of all...in the hearts of every living being.
Piercing them, wrapping around them, playing and toying with the souls that it tainted with its touch, leaving nothing but a cruel emptiness inside that could not truly be filled.
A terrible thing to experience through ones own flesh.., even more to see it happen with your own living eyes in the life of another. To see those faces and eyes that one knew or believed so….become ruptured and twisted.
Leaving nothing but embittered husks of their former selves
..
..
That was why everyone loathed such word.
Despised what it meant and what it brought.
And so it was normal for why everyone seemed to laud hope at every step of the way.
Calling it the strength of character against adversity, the perseverance of those who did not give up against a problem, that only through it could one escape the clutches of dark times and bring a better version of themselves at the end of that perilous road.
To have hope was to have dreams.
To hope was to wish and think the better of the world.
To hope was to lend a welcoming hand and smile to the world around you.
Lessons ever taught since one was little, repeated to nausea time and time again as one grows and gets older.
It was true that it may not been everyones cup of tea, but compared with the slimy darkness of despair it was a simple choice to surrender themselves instead to the light they called hope.
So easily..
So readily..
All without knowing that they were just two sides of the same coin. No truly understanding that too much of that same light they considered benign could make people do…..stupid things.
Take risks they otherwise would never have.
Blind and easily deceived by simple ploys playing in front of their eyes..
And when tragedy struck anyways, they would try to cling to that very same hope they had become drunk of until that very same moment. Tugging the cord to keep them afloat from the waters threatening to swallow them whole..only for their horror to realize that the rope they desperately clung to was rotten to the core before they hit the ground like a rock.
A tragedy that would plunge them deeper than ever in the heart of darkness they had tried to steer away like maniacs...and a scene that would repeat forever more given that no one seemed to appreciate the irony that blind optimism was just as dangerous as that they taught them against.
However, there was a lesson in those acts of folly.
One could not live in darkness without losing their minds...though they could not bathe in light forever without dangerous repercussions.
And so...a balance was needed.
Well, easier said than done when the smallest of changes could set everything down like some flimsy house of cards placed stupidly close to an open window in during a windy season and one no matter what they said, they had no real idea of what they were doing.
Why touch if its not broken, right?
The thought of how lazy and careless people still were on this day and age would have made her smile had her face not been already strained by pain and agony of broken bones and muscles bursting like popcorn.
A body that had taken more punishment that it could ill afford. Cold sweat sliding down the glistened skin of her face as she huffed, struggling for breath.
Perhaps... that was why in our vain and vast spades of imagination mankind had decided to make use of stories to explain through much simpler terms and ways the complexity of our own emotions and the terrible things they could do if left unchecked.
Warm or cold.
Fantasy or more subjected to reality.
Worlds after worlds of incredibly beauty were born to give answer and satiate our desire for the unknown with a tinge of our own craftsmanship. Telling tales of bravery or tragedy, of groups of individuals who in fellowship ventured through unknown lands and passed perilous test in their desire to move forward or of those lonely souls who had yet to leave the nest, their tales surrounded in the shades and lines of the mundane instead of the flippant colors of life and death scenarios.
Friendship, love, loss, lies, family and growth….like colors of a palette they were resonated with a life of their own on the sheets of paper. Some funny, others tear jerkers…, with their ups and downs, with their greatest moments and their lowest.
Showing hope and despair either with clear distinctions or muddling those terms into something new and yet so very much familiar.
There were even those stories were people were isekaid into other worlds, some so strangely similar to the ones they come from that it would take them decades to even find a difference. Others so inexplicable different that defied comprehension.
Or when they were reincarnated as the character of a story they had read or played at.
As a hero
A servant..
Perhaps the damsel in distress or just a secondary character that would help the protagonist reach their own happy endings instead of falling to fates cruel intents.
However she would be lying if she said that she didn't have a weakness for those tales woven with forces of good and evil. Where a cruel mastermind tried to toy with the life of others, trying to bring despair and destruction in their wake...and worse, make their victims become just as twisted as they were.
And at the cusp of their schemes most of the characters would either be crippled or die.
Her lips thinned into a scowl, once beautiful and seductive now broken and covered in both grime and dust. She could feel the prickling touch of warm blood slid down her wounds and drench her clothes, her body becoming heavier, weaker as the stench of iron reached her mouth and permeated the air.
Or at least...that was what it was supposed to happen if they had their way.
Sadly, as it was known for villains, things never truly went the way they wished they did and even the most calculating of individuals and the most prepared and rehearsed of plans could fall flat of the expectations wished of them.
Luck, perseverance and a generous dose of spite mixed with sheer ingenuity and the desire to live one more day foiling them more often than not...and so it was not unnatural that one of the characters would rise up and challenge those who had until that moment all of the control of the situation they had so enjoyed until that moment.
After that, it was common for a fight of wits or more often than not and all out brawl to ensue.
Where the Mastermind would lose.
And die.
Almost each and every time after doing some stupid monologue of how they were not so different or something, or just saying something to spite the hero one final time and inadvertently giving them the strength they needed to finish the fight on their terms.
It was always a banger of an ending, no matter how many times she saw it.
She tried to stand up, yet fell to her knees as her body gave out. Her mind starting to become numb and her thoughts heavy, her body shivering with the callous, intoxicating feverish touch of death stricken fear of two souls in one body instead of the cold breeze of the night sky glinting above their heads, the wind sleeping through the cracks and holes they had made through the structure.
However, sadly for her…., as she weakly rose her gaze from the broken cobblestones and broken glass shards littering the ground she was met with those cold yet blazing eyes she had come to yearn and know all too well during all these years.
Eyes shining with determination and the resolve to be free and away of these shackles place in her soul within these cold walls.
It made her feel both shame and pride.
After all these time, everything she had done, here she was finally witnessing the curtain call of a story and birth of another. One that would be cleaner and kinder unlike the one that came before it even after all the suffering and death that the girl had gone through.
She had always known this moment would come, and yet….it still left her breathless to see it develop before her eyes.
Unable to do anything.
To stop it.
Even slow it down…
She tried to speak, to scream, to shriek at the injustice of it all and do one final and even more pathetic show of desperation but her body felt too caught up on the moment, too tired and battered after years of degradation.
The only thing that left through her lips was that demented laugh that so many times she had faked while her eyes only able to show the madness and terror inside of her.
Staring right at those blazing Red X of Peruere that gazed at her with pained solemnity.
``Mother….´´
Of all the people she could have replaced.
Of all the myriad of characters that existed in this world
Of all the convoluted, crazy things that could and should have happened to bring her to a place like this.
Why
Why...!?
``My answer….´´
What had she done to deserve this...
``Is no….´´
Why did she had to come into this world as Crucabena...?
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A/N
An idea that I came across, though whether I continue it may depend on the support and interests of the readers given that I have other stories I would like to finish before.
Still, I hope you enjoy it and please, feel free to share your thoughts about the story.