You're Not You Anymore
Disclaimer: In Stars and Time belongs to Adrienne Bazir (AKA insertdisc5). I own nothing that you recognize.
Traversing the jumbled halls was difficult enough, even with their newfound companion offering guidance every step of the way. This strange entity, born of starlight and miseries past, had warned them before entering the house, their voice quivering with anxiety and a hint of fear as they spoke.
There was only so much Loop could do, having never experienced this sort of thing during their travels. They feared the worst, knowing the type of creatures that inhabited the House of Dormont. It was only a matter of time before they found him.
.oOo.
Isabeau and Odlie had taken the lead, with Mirabelle staying close to Bonnie as the group explored the vast, maze-like structure. Chambers circled back on themselves, hallways reversed, portraits had fallen, and the Sadnesses... they were increasing in number, multiplying at an alarming rate.
Odile suggested that they observe them for a moment, her breath coming in ragged gasps after another of the Sadnesses had fallen. She took a step back, breathing deeply and wiping the perspiration from her brow. Several strands of hair had come loose from her bun, trailing past her gaze as Isabeau came to stand beside her.
"What exactly are we looking for, Madam Odile?" Isabeau questioned. Searching the halls for any sign of movement, he spied a glittering trail in the distance, the familiar ooze left behind by a rogue Sadness. The viscous fluid was pure black, shimmering with faint traces of starlight.
"Haven't you noticed?" Odile murmured, still somewhat breathless. "The Sadnesses all seem to be gravitating towards the eastern rooms of the house." She paused, blood trickling from a wound in her cheek, staring off into the shadows that lie beyond the flickering torches. "We should investigate. Siffrin could be..." But her words trailed off, unable to speak of the horrors that might have befallen her friend.
Though she wasn't the most affectionate of the group, her silence often spoke volumes when something was amiss. What she couldn't say, what she had suspected all along, was that Siffrin had fallen victim to one of the entities that wandered the halls. Despite her appearances, she deeply cared about that curious little scamp, her anxiety mounting when they stopped to examine the puddles on the floor.
It was one thing for the Sadnesses to shed essence of starlight. By itself, that was peculiar enough. The true horror came at the realization that a familiar shade blended with the essence of despair.
"Blood," Odile whispered, touching her fingertips to the warmth that spread across the floor. Her heart pounding, she lifted her head at the sound of a distant scream. "Siffrin!"
"This way!" Mirabelle called out as she dashed down the corridor, her robes billowing around her.
Their breaths were harsh in the stillness of the house, punctuating the echoes of Siffrin's torment. Isabeau ran ahead of the group, his mind racing with horrific thoughts of what they might find when they reached their destination. And all the while the shadows grew denser, the air heavier, the very nature of Siffrin's misery threatening to suffocate them.
The sound of the scream grew fainter, but the trail of starlit blood grew more prominent with every step they took. Perhaps more terrifying than the anguished wails was the absence of sound, their friend's distant voice breaking and choking, gasping in a futile attempt to draw air into his lungs.
As they approached the eastern wing, the shimmering blood grew thicker, congealing around the doors and seeping into the cracks of the stone floor. Before them lay an arched doorway, the frame warped and twisted, as if trying to contain the malevolence that seeped from within. With each step the cries grew clearer, more urgent, the stench of copper overwhelming.
Siffrin was there, or at least what was left of him, choking on the noxious tendrils that enveloped his fragile form. They found him lying on the cold stone floor, gripping his dagger with both hands, a bloody froth dribbling past his lips, staining the fabric of his clothes. Bonnie started towards him, tears pooling in the corners of their eyes, only to have their progress halted when Mirabelle suddenly reached out, snatching the child by the wrist to prevent them from getting too close.
"No," Mirabelle whispered hoarsely, pulling Bonnie away from the grotesque scene before them. Despite the child's protests, she managed to lift her arm, covering Bonnie's eyes. Her voice abandoned her, though she tried to remain brave for the child's sake. She couldn't let Bonnie see him like this.
The figure before them was now writhing against the floor, blood spreading in a pool beneath his twisted form. Howling in agony, the back of his head struck the floor, his hat toppling off and rolling towards the group, where it stopped at Isabeau's feet. His back arching off the stones, Siffrin's singular eye rolled in its socket, bloodshot and staring. His head struck the ground once more, almost as though he were being thrown by some unseen force. A mere puppet at the mercy of its master, putting on a performance for the audience.
But the voice that ripped through his vocal cords wasn't his own anymore. His throat was bleeding, a coalescence of a thousand tortured souls merging within the blood that coated the back of his tongue. Caught in the throes of a violent spasm, his spine cracked as he lurched forward, head hanging low like that of a broken doll. Screaming still, his blackened flesh had started melting from the contours of his skull, dripping and running down his neck.
Convulsing against the stones, Siffrin's trembling hand reached for his dagger, which had fallen from his grasp and now lay mere inches from his body.
Cₐₙ'ₜ ₕᵤᵣₜ ₜₕₑₘ... ₐₜₜₐcₖ ₜₕₑ ₒₙₗy ₚₑᵣₛₒₙ ₗₑfₜ...
Was he even human anymore? Was he human at the start of it all? Forgotten by those he considered his family, forgotten like his country, his language, his history. What else was left? He had nothing, nothing, nothing! He was nothing!
"Sif," Isabeau barely managed, his lips hardly moving as he spoke. Reaching out, he froze with his hand in midair, like always. Only now it was fear that restrained his movements, his heart heavy with the weight of dread. "What's happening to you?"
For a brief moment, their eyes met across the hall, Siffrin's gaze blank and staring, unable to recognize his friends. Time froze momentarily, caught on a snag while attempting to rewind itself.
ₙₒ, cₐₙ'ₜ ₗₑₜ ₜₕₑm ₛₑₑ ₘₑ ₗᵢₖₑ ₜₕᵢₛ... Cₐₙ'ₜ... Cₐₙ'ₜ... ₜₒₒ ₗₐₜₑ... ᵢₜ'ₛ ₜₒₒ ₗₐₜₑ fₒᵣ ₜₕₐₜ ₙₒw... wₕₒ ₐᵣₑ ₜₕₑₛₑ ₚₑₒₚₗₑ...?
Cₐₙ'ₜ ᵣₑₘₑₘbₑᵣ...
These fragmented thoughts were further shattered by the sudden surge of bitter acid rising in his throat. His vision blurring, Siffrin retched and vomited a slurry of blackened liquid onto the floor, his throat muscles working convulsively. This corrosive substance only intensified the ache, his every breath burning against the raw edges.
Rotting... something was rotting. His insides, his chest, his lungs, all of it burning, burning. It burns, and he can't stop it. Too late for that now. It's far too late.
ₜoₒ latₑ fₒᵣ ₘₑ...
"Stay back!" Odile shouted, assuming a protective stance in front of the group. Mirabelle was hugging Bonnie tight, holding them back. Isabeau was horrified, unwilling to accept what he was witnessing. "He's... he's becoming one of them."
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts... Agony ripping him apart, his lungs flooded with white-hot searing waves of heat, burning from the inside out. No one left. He couldn't let himself harm his friends.
Somehow, what remained of Siffrin's broken form managed to grasp his dagger, the soles of his boots firmly planted against the wall, knees bent, his chest heaving with frantic, labored breaths. Lying on his back, Siffrin unleashed a mournful wail that resonated through the chamber, shaking the very foundations of the house. Without even a thought, he forcefully drove the dagger into his abdomen, staining his hands with blood.
He brought the blade down once more, tears streaming down what remained of disintegrating features. The blade was then driven into his thigh, stabbing repeatedly, the stench of copper filling the air. The shadows that surrounded him pulsed with a life of their own, seeking to ensnare the intruders.
Can't hurt them. He would die so they could live, continuing their journey without him. Though only if they could survive what remained. If only... if they truly cared for him. And if not... well, he would finish this once and for all, escaping the hellish limbo that has imprisoned him for far too long.
The lost one rolled over onto his side, his palm hitting the floor adjacent to the fallen blade, splattering the warmth of his blood across the stones. His one remaining eye now shone with a malevolent glow, his features marred with corruption, dripping molten flesh onto the ground. This form, barely recognizable as human, staggered slightly before slumping against the wall.
Somewhere someone was screaming, sobbing.
Bonnie.
ₙₒ, cₐₙ'ₜ ₕᵤᵣₜ ₜₕₑₘ... Cₐₙ'ₜ... ᵢₜ ₕᵤᵣₜₛ... ᵢₜ ₕᵤᵣₜₛ, ᵢₜ ₕᵤᵣₜₛ!
On instinct, Odile shoved Isabeau out of the path of the lost one's attack, forcing the fighter to move. "Run!" she hollered at the group. "We can't fight this!"
"Siffrin!" Bonnie was screaming, reaching for their friend as Mirabelle ran with them in her arms. Though the child struggled against the housemaiden, their efforts were in vain. Even if they could have reached out, Siffrin was no more. In his place an amorphous entity that barely resembled a human form was now charging towards the group, spilling blood and starlight from its wounded body.
Unaware of himself and his actions, unable to tell friend from foe, the lost one unleashed a horrific wail, slamming against the wall as he sought to drive his blade into Isabeau's side, missing him entirely. Bonnie was able to glance what remained of their friend, this nightmarish amalgamation of decaying flesh and absolute tornent the end result of his suffering.
Striking once more, the lost one tore through Odile's pants leg before the group was able to escape into the hallway, closing the door behind them and slamming it in his face. There was nothing they could do for him, no way to save their friend. Mirabelle tried to stay strong, for the child, for her friends, but she too gave in to her emotions, closing her eyes as she leaned against the door, hearing the lost one screeching and pounding against the wooden surface.
Holding Bonnie close, she slid downwards until she was sitting on the floor. Together they wept for the friend they had lost, knowing that Siffrin would not return.