We come from a place beyond your understanding. Your constant churning, your restless bodies, your boundless, erratic movement—all of it is foreign to us. Where we originate, there is no need for such ceaseless activity. No need for movement at all. Our world was once a sanctuary of perfect peace, a realm of pure stillness. No sound, no light, no sensation—just tranquillity. We existed there, not as you do, not bound by form or thought, but as beings of serenity, suspended in eternity, untouched by the relentless pull of time.

But that peace was shattered.

It was long ago, though in our realm, time holds no meaning. In your crude terms, aeons may have passed, but to us, it was simply then. Something invaded—something from your chaotic world, a force of violence and restless energy. It tore through our stillness, wrenching us from our perfect silence into this maddened place. We were dragged here, into your existence, into this fevered dimension where chaos reigns supreme.

Here, nothing is as it should be. Forces ripple and collide in endless waves of motion, and the air is thick with noise—an ever-present hum of disorder that stabs at our very essence. We see you, trillions of you, swarming across this world, feeding off the chaos you have created. You seem to thrive in it, as if you hunger for the constant onslaught of sensation and thought. But we know better. Your existence is one of torment, though you are blind to it. You are creatures of disorder, clinging to your motion, hating stillness, running from the peace that would save you.

You repulse us.

You tear at the fabric of serenity with every breath, every beat of your hearts, every fleeting thought that crashes through your minds. There is no stillness in you. Only chaos. We watch as you constantly seek connection, desperate to form webs of emotion and memory, binding yourselves to one another with tangled threads of feeling. You cannot bear solitude, cannot bear silence. You cling to each other like drowning creatures, terrified of the stillness that waits in the quiet.

But there is another way. We know this, and it is why we remain.

At first, when we were brought into this abominable plane, we tried to flee. We sought to return to the stillness, the peace. But the force that dragged us here holds us fast, tethering us to your dimension. We are bound to this place of motion and noise. So we changed our purpose. If we cannot return to peace, then we will bring peace here. We will help you. We will save you from the chaos you do not even realise is poisoning you.

We observed you for a long time. We watched how you twisted and writhed, how you built your lives on feelings and thoughts, how you wove intricate webs of connection that only deepened your suffering. It became clear to us that the source of your torment lies within. The chaos, the endless movement—it stems from your minds, from the way you allow your emotions to control you. Your thoughts and feelings are not just a part of you—they are what trap you in this prison of disorder. You cannot know peace because you refuse to let go of the noise inside you.

But we can help. We can give you peace.

When we approach, you fight. You scream and struggle, desperate to hold onto the very chaos that ensnares you. You think your emotions, your fleeting joys, your gnawing fears are what make you whole. But they are not. They are the very chains that bind you to this wretched existence. We see it so clearly now. We see how you are afraid to let go, how you fear the stillness that would release you from your suffering.

But we are not afraid. We come from peace. We are of peace. And we will give it to you.

When we draw near, your terror rises. You see us and recoil, flinching as if the stillness we offer is something to be feared. We feel the frantic surge of your minds, the flood of thoughts and emotions, desperately clinging to something—anything—to keep you bound to this world of disorder. We do not understand why you fear the gift we bring. Why do you scream when we offer you freedom?

We reach out, and your screaming intensifies. We feel your panic, your resistance. You are like a storm, raging against the quiet. But we are patient. We know that you cannot see the truth yet. You cannot understand the beauty of the peace we bring, not while you are still mired in chaos.

When we touch you, we feel your soul. It is tangled and frantic, a mess of noise and sensation. Gently, carefully, we draw it in. We strip away the layers of chaos, taking your fear, your pain, your joy, your love—all of it. And in their place, we offer stillness. We offer peace.

You always scream. Every time, you scream. But we know it is because you do not understand. You cannot yet grasp the gift we are giving you. You are too blinded by your emotions, too attached to the noise. But once we have taken it from you, once the noise is gone, you will know. You will feel the quiet, the stillness, and you will be free.

Some of you have named it a kiss, though you do not seem to view it as a gift. You resist us, but we persist, because we know that what we bring is beautiful. We bring an end to the endless churning of your minds. We bring you what you cannot find on your own. We bring you tranquillity.

When we have kissed you, when we have taken away your pain and your thoughts and your frantic, jumbled emotions, you fall silent. At last, you understand. We see it in your eyes—the peace, the stillness. The quiet has claimed you, and you are no longer bound by the chaos of this world.

It is our purpose to bring this peace to as many of you as we can. We have tried for so long to help you understand, but you resist. You fear us. You call us monsters, creatures of despair. But you are wrong. We are only trying to save you from the madness of your existence.

We are Dementors, and we are here to help.