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читать дальшеI was lying on my sofa, it felt as though I was unable to preceive reality, time or even my own body. I felt nothing but loathing, this incredible loathing for myself, for this world and these circumstances which interfere with people and their business every time. I felt so weak, I couldn't move my fingers, though I wasn't tired at all, I couldn't say how long have I been lying here. An empty shell eaten away - this is how I felt while staring at the wall lit by sunlight.
The pattern on my old, but barely faded wallpaper seemed to be a kaleidoscope of colourful dots. Somewhere far away, I heard sounds of the streets, cars, voices and rustle of the leaves. A usual summer day became, for me, the day when everything was ruined. Like all the wicked powers decided to remember about me today.
Even though there were no signs of trouble at the beginning of this day. I got up early and went to work as usual. Though as I drove to work, not so far from my home, something terrible happened, something I don't even want to remember. The car driving next to me was smashed before my very eyes by a heavy truck. Though the collision did not scare me, nor did the sight of that crumpled metal. Me and this poor driver have been driving close to each other, had I started a few seconds earlier, I would have been on his place. Feeling death so close is unnerving, so I decided to take more longer, safer way to my office. The result of my prudence was obvious, arriving late, though thus was far from the worst thing that happened. In fact no one cared about such a things as time, nor did they care if I came at all. The company I woked on has gone bankrupt and no one was going to be giving us our backpay; I went here only to know that I lost my job, to learn that my near, even far future, was going to be really bad. Not so long ago I had decided to replan my flat, borrowing a bit of money from the bank. I didn't want to, but didn't have enough on my own to do it. I was supposed to pay off the debt next week, but with hardly any money at all I was out of options. Angry and annoyed, I went back home thinking that there would be a way to escape my problems; Of course I was wrong. Just as I entered my flat, I saw my girlfriend in the hallway, she noticed me and started asking why I wasn't at the office. I lost my temper, shouting at her saying that I've lost my job, that her stupid quiestions were the last thing I needed to hear. She didn't say a word, instead putting all her things in her bag, giving me the keys and walking away. She couldn't even say those simple yet ruthless words - "It's over." So in summary, in less than a half of it I am jobless, moneyless and alone...with nothing but debt and an uncomplete renovasion. Worst of all, left with no idea how I'm going to live.
The sun shone bright, as though it was laughing at me, the sounds from the street becoming louder, as though the world itself was mocking me; Glad that there was a such a loser as me in it.The longer I stared at the wall, the more it felt as though there was a thin black net before my eyes, really thin, almost invisible. Like a veil distinguishable only as it cast everything in gloomy shades of gray. Honestly, it felt like my own mind wanted to hide from me everything that could make me feel better. It wanted to remind me what is this day. A dark day. A dead day...
Dead days...
As these two words came to my mind I remembered something I had heard before. I've had many friends over the years, characters with their own tastes and interests. One friend, however, stood out as different from all others. Always a strange one, he told me of evil and mysterious creatures called Holders, and the Objects they are said to be guarding, of the trials that one would have to pass to retrive them. It was awhile now, back when we were good frineds, that these stories seemed exciting to me. I would learn these stories by heart, for my friend as he was convinced we could pass one of these trials. It never worked, so we had long forgotten about it...or at least I did. As for my friend, his behavior only became stranger, moving to different parts of the city, selling his possessions and he went on some journey. I was worried about him. I decided to visit him finally, I knew where he lived but now what was going on. When I got to his place, I realized that what was going on was stranger then I knew. The place was empty except for a cheap bed, and my friend was laying on the floor starved half to death as his hands trembled. I didn't know how long he had been like this, asking what had happened as I rushed to his side. He only shook more, whispering that he had passed a Holder's trial and was now what he always dreamt of, a Seeker. I would be lying if I said I was angry with him, though I told him he was mad, stupid and childish, his reaction was the scariest part. Putting his hand under the pillow without a word, showing me a small rusty key. I don't know why, but when I looked at this key I felt sick and dizzy, like I might faint. My friend was speaking but I could barley hear him over the feeling, telling him only to take the strange thing away. He did as I asked, the feeling subsided, and I told him never to bother me with this nonsense again. Curiously enough, though we did continue to meet after that event he never mentioned those stories again. I must admit, after that event, I only became more curious as to whether these stories were real or not. I knew I would have to find the truth by myself, and now I had the chance with this situation I was in, jut like one of those he described. That feeling of emptines, like there was a black net before my eyes.
"So to do it or not to do?" I thought, looking at my own closed fist. I knew perfectly well what happens to Seekers in the stories that failed, yet was still unsure if they were true, or even if I'd be a good Seeker. In the end, I decided that I had nothing to lose, and looking to the wall again, saying scornfully "Instead of gnawing at my heart, show me the way."
My words echoed throughout my apartment, the silence unnerving and stressful. I expected any reaction on my words - loud sounds or strikes of unbearable pain. My mind was ready for anything, even to be torn to pieces, yet nothing happened. l felt nothing, heard no sounds, detected no outsiders. Only the same shining sun covering the same old wallpaper, the same street noise, the same black net before my eyes. Nothing changed, and in the end they seemed to be nothing but stories. As I had expected.
However, I had only thought about it so long before I heard a loud crack and the wind whistling behind me. I had been prepared to face anything, yet at that moment I flinched glancing over my shoulder behind me. I was relived to see it was only the window, always kept ajar but now open wide. I figured it must have been a sharp gust of wind, nothing more.
I got up from my sofa and went over to the window. My legs were feeling numb and moving was hard; it was hard for me to understand now what made me do so. I did a really strange thing, decided to use the situation to know if this legend is true or not instead of trying to solve my problems. I think lost my temper, I was stressed, nothing more. Stopping for a moment, I thought to myself "Maybe I should just-"
I couldn't finish that thought, however, coming to the window as someone's tenacious and cold hand reached through, grabbing my neck and lifting me with ease; it was like I weighed nothing to them. Strangley, I wasn't scared, not by this or by the fact that this stranger has suddenly appeared. All I could think, was that this visitor was going to throw me from my own window.
I wanted to shout, to stop them, but I couldn't say a word. A second later and I'm falling down onto the hard ground from the second floor window. The unspeakable horror filled my mind, in that moment thinking what could happen, if I'm fortunate I'll break bones, if not...better not to think about it.
As the world became a blur, I heard the sound of something heavy and soft hitting the ground. I realized that I had landed, yet felt no pain. I wondered what went wrong, opening my eyes as fear, confused with surprise filled my mind.
Instead of a street, I saw my own room. It wasn't quite like the one I had lay in however, as bleak sunbeams shone through curtained window and everything around me was just too quiet. Here in this place, the silence wasn't gloomy at all. It felt as though the whole world was preparing for something that, if not perfect, was still so good. I was lying on my side under my blanket. Nothing special at all - just a usual summer morning.
When I thought about it, it felt suspicious. The morning after noon? How could that be? Something here was weird, I couldn't explain how could this happen. Maybe all these things which happened before were just nightmares and nothing more.
"It was too beleiveable for a dream", I thought to myself, wanting to look at the clock but unable to see it. "I" stretched myself, throwing the blanket aside and getting out of bed. After that "I" stood up and started to make my bed. Every movement was familliar to me, "I" couldn't say that anything was wrong with it. Despite one thing - "I" did it against my own will. I tried to say something, to step aside, to move my hand, but I couldn't. My body didn't obey me at all. It all seemed like I could only watch here and do nothing.
An awareness, though vauge, started to come to my mind. I was in such a state of despair, wanting nothing more then to hide from these problems, using my situation to call for the Holder of Dead Days whom I head about from my strangest friend. Looking back, I don't know what made me do so, was I thinking about I've got nothing to lose? was I just curious? It no longer mattered, the die has been cast and there were no way back.
As far as I could tell, it was time to watch the day and see it's true face.
It's so horrible to realize that in less than a day your life had started to fall from your control, yet it was far worse to realize that your own body had too. Your movements, actions, behaviour are yours... yet it's not you who does them. And I felt so helpless, realizing finally that all I can do is to look around.
It was such a joyless thought as "I" got dressed, went to the kitchet, turned on the old televison, the news playing in the background as "I" was making breakfast. While "my" hands were taking food from the fridge, I noticed that street started to wake up, too. The sun was shining brighter that before and I heard the sounds of cars and voices coming from the street. People were waking up, as the world was coming alive with them.
Even the peace here couldn't help me relax. While "I" was putting sugar in my coffee, I looked around hopelessly, thinking there was no way out. I didn't want to even think what would happen to me if I did something wrong, if i made a mistake and never even got to reach the Holder.
Nevertheless, I realized later that making such a mistake here would of been very hard to do.
"And now the weather, - the anchor chimed. - Today..."-
Suddenly, in that instant, the announcer's voice suddenly became agressive before cutting off without warning. At first I was disappointed, now I'd have to repair my TV, but then the cacophony hit. A wave of sharp and repulsive sounds. I still can't say what it was, like words, pleas, curses or screams in uninteligable languages all coming at me. In that moment, even though I was something i couldn't understand, I could feel it dooming me to become a slave to my own past. I felt cold, cautiously and slowly looking at the TV screen, starting to understand what exactly will I see there.
From morning news, the image changed to something I couldn't stand to see. There was a single great fear from my childhood, the one I never told anyone, that I had since I could remember. Insects. It seemed silly now, and I had learned to control it, yet I still shuddered at the sight of them. Now here in this moment, the image on the TV screen was turning, the anchor once so livley now covered with thick and disgusting slime, skin crawling with insects looking like an unholy mix of roaches, milipedes and spiders. Though he had been alive moments before, now he simply appeared to have been dead for long -his face, full of agony, those insects tearing his flesh apart with ease. The smell of rot was filling the room around me.
Depsite this sudden horror, "I" was still drinking coffe peacefully. For "me" there was nothing special in this day - all my troubles were just waiting for "me". Yet I couldn't look away from the TV, my mind filled with fear and doubt at the memories. Memories about things I'd always tried to forget. Some offences from my childhood, arguements with friends and parents - even these smallest things became too much of a burden for me to bear. I remembered talking when I should of kept my mouth shut, how I lied to those who were important for me, how I hurt my friends, lost possibilities to make my life better - all becuase I never had the courage to try and do so. But the most horrible of all was the realization that I can't change anything.
I knew, in that moment, that your own mistakes and memories can be the greatest weight. I looked at the screen, I don't know got how long, but it was enough. It all seemed hopeless, I start thinking that the life itself wants me to disappear forever. In that moment, everything went black, I could hear distinct voices in that cacophony of sounds. I never heard that language before, yet I could understand each word as though it was my own. Though after hearing what it told me, I wished I couldn't. Unknown voices, unimaginably horrifying, inhuman, were cursing me and telling me about the evil I have done to this world and myself. I don't know what could happen to me or to my sanity next, but in that very moment "I" stood up without a second thought, washing my cup in the most normal of ways, pulled along by this unseen force. As "I" just turned my head away from the TV and the sounds, the blackness before my eyes, were gone. My mind was clear again, yet I couldn't control my body. If I could, I would of run.
When "I" was washing my cup, I remembered some details about that old story, feeling that cold of fear once again. How could I feel any other way after almost failing my trial? I remembered the instructions clearly stated to not look at the things and creatures in this realm for long. If you do so, you can be thrown into madness almost immediatley. I'd be split, two people in one body, in full awareness of the fact that one of these people is insnae. What a dark fate awaits me.
My survival instincts were strong, I knew I had to make it out of here, yet even I couldn't resist my desire to look at the screen once again as "I" went to turn it off. However, when I looked, there was no more horror. The news was over and a finance show had followed natrually. This was reassuring, calming me as "I" put on my jacket, waiting until "I" would go down to my car.
However, I knew from what I had seen that I'd better be prepared. When I went outside, I noticed that everything didn't look like quite as it should. Asphalt under my feet was cracked and through the holes I saw small, slippy, taut, black stalks. Everything was so quiet that the whole city seemed uninhabitant. The cars near my house were covered with dust, the painting was peeling off, the windows were broken, and the wheels were deflated. It looked like they were abandoned long ago, two or three years at least. What was once green grass had became unnaturally dark brown in death and the sun beams were rusty as they seemed to make the world darker.
It was here I found my car, maybe, the worst sight of all. It was unpainted and damaged, without a roof and the doors rusted on their hinges with windows shattered into shards of glass. The front only got worse, the hood was gone and the engine worn and wasted, gasoline pooled around the entire machine. It was as if it had been through more then even an accident. Still, the thing that was worst of all was when "I", still unphased, got behind the wheel. The interior of the car was covered in a thick slime like pus and the sight of passenger seat beside me making me choke, that feeling like a veil back over my eyes. There beside me was a woman's head, gray and almost bald, lying on this torn blood and pus-stained seat. Her eyes were alive, as like they were the only thing still living, looking at me with love and caring to contrast the world.
It was the head of my mother.
couldn't come home, leave my block or even make new friends without her trying to know everything about my life. She tried to know everything, everyone, and if she disliked what she learned she would do everything she could to prevent me from even trying to talk to them ever again. Surprisingly, none of my friends bullied me because of this, maybe they understood my pain. When my mother has interfered my conversation, no one laughed at me or said something offencive. They all tried to behave as if nothing has been happening, silent but unhelpful. I still hated my mother for this, so caring yet so hurtful, I always knew who I was in my friends' eyes because of that. I looked just pathetic. I was sure she was doing that on purpose. These days, with my childhood is in the past, I can see that she wanted to do me good... she just didn't always know how. She really was afraid that something bad may happen to me and only tried her best to protect her only son.
My mother's death was early and absurd, fainting one day on the way home she fell under a subway train. I remember hearing about her death, yet feeling nothing. I hate to say it, but if I felt anything it was relief that my "supervisor" had died and left me to do whatever I wanted. I never really knew my father, he spent all his time at work and, to this day, can't be botherd to remember even my name or age. Needless to say he had no interest in my life or friends, unlike my mother, he didn't worry about my problems at all. I remember feeling like I could be an adult then.
I look back and see a teenage boy, standing by a closed coffing, he shakes a little but never cries, nor does he feel any sort of loss or regret. He's waiting only for the funneral to be done, so he can get on with the life he's wanted for so long.
This memory alone is enough for me to start despising myself. I never thought I'd ever feel such loathing for my own past, my own body.
Remembering the trail, and my near faliure, snapped me from my memory and gave me reason to try my best to forget about my creepy "passenger". The car had started without a hitch, and the farther I drove the worse the world became. The sky here was filled with heavy and dark clouds, I've never seen anything like it before. I noticed other cars driving next to me, and every one of them was as destroyed as mine. The houses were dilapidating, with pieces falling down, cracked and looking at this world with their black and broken windows. People, who appeared in the city as though from nowhere, looked even worse. All of them were wounded. Someone tried desperatly to hold back their bleeding innards, others lacking even the skin of their faces, wile some were forced to crawl on the asphalt with their elbows - their legs gnawled off by great teeth. I heard from these masses, muffled sobs and shrieks of pain and the despair from everywhere merged here in one heartbreaking plea for help. The air itself smelled with blood, some of these poor people falling down and diying right on the streets, unable to struggle with their wounded torment anymore. "I" kept driving, as if nothing was happening, unphased by this horror. "I" didn't even know if I was still inside my own mind, this one I had seeing a far more cruel reality. Or did I see my world's true nature?
I still think, the worst discovery of this day was waiting for me at the place where I first had seen that horrible accident this morning, the place where my misfortune had begun. When I drove near the crossroads, I noticed that three creatures were staying right behind the car which was laying smashed in road by that heavy truck. I don't think that there is a language in our world which can fully describe their bulging, pale white and insane eyes that blinked with a sickening sound. Thier skin, almost black, dimly gleaming and hands with thick wrists, and wicked raptorial snouts. They just lifted the poor man's car from the ground and threw it forward with a tremendous strength. When the clanging of metal and dying screams, full of unbearable pain, reached my ears I really wanted to shrink. And they three just looked at each other. One of them licked its sharp fangs and jumped forward into a withered bush near the road. Others followed it. Probably, to find one more victim to have fun with.
The rest of the way to office, I felt confused. I still couldn't understand both the meaning of my trial and what was I actually to do. Was it all to possibly see the real day's guise? Did it look like this just for me? Was it all just something that hides deeply in the mind, something, usually quiet, but is always waiting for a moment to consume us?
When I arrived at my former office, I noticed that the world had become still worse. The ground wasn't just covered with blood, it was bleeding. Everything around me was an awful crimson. The sky gloomy and dark, yet sepite this darkness I could see everything as well as in the daylight. The buildings became far more delapitated than before. From some of them remained nothing but walls, metal girders, carcasses of their former selves. Scattered everywhere was the sharp, shiny, dust of metal and glass, the remains of windows scattered across the ground. The people here were in worse condition, pitiable as they were not just mutilated, but have literally begun to decay. Their bodies were blackened and covered with that loathsome slime. Insects and their maggot larva were crawling out of them, their flesh eaten. Some people tried to get rid of abhorrent creatures, fighting with their last strength, while others were so exhausted that simply submitted to their fate and lay down on the ground. From every corner I could still hear screams of fear, pain and death. The air smelled with decay, drying blood and endless despair. All my city which I've known from my childhood, had became a true incarnation of nightmare and devastation in what seemed like an instant.
There was something else I noticed, only when "I" was standing near my office. The world appeared to be contracting. I saw that the sky came down closer to buildings, the buildings themselves stood narrower and closer together. It felt like the world, pulled together by an unseen force, was fitting into a much smaller place.
As I realized later, my suspicions were correct. In that moment, however, I was more nervous about something else. In my office, the first thing I saw was the guard, a young man who was a bit older than me. He looked worse off then anyone I had seen yet, as though this world was becoming more horrible with every step. Maggots had eaten off the skin of his head, his discoloured skull and a thin membrane of muscles were all that remained. His eyes were cut, one falling out and the other bulging. His teeth covered in old slime, like pus, that also stained his shirt. The shirt was in terrible shape, tarnished with soot and slime. His fingers were dead and black, his nails were broken and bloody. In that very moment I finally managed to step back, hold my breath and clentch my fists. For the first time, my body obeyed me.
As I lay my eyes upon this corpse, I firstly though to myself that this must be the Holder. "So that's it" , thought I, feeling nothing but the chill of fear. The fact that I've been working so long with such a gruesome creature, that this thing controlled me, was unnerving. I gathered my composure, trying to remember what I should say to him. However, in that moment, I was relived to realize I may have been wrong.
"God damn you... - said the skull in rasping voice, it's cracked jaw barley moving - It's all your fault, bastard... your..."
Every word was spoken with a harsh voice, as though the maggots had begun to chew away it's vocal cords. But I couldn't let this thing distract me - he may have brought me here, but there was no way that this thing was the Holder. I had to meet the true Holder of Dead Days, and while this man - or remains of man - was the one who could help me, I knew he could also prove the hardest trial.
As I gathered my courage, I looked to his eye and said: "Do not protect the one who is guilty of it."
When he heard my words, he screamed so madly and with unexplainable hate and agony in his voice. Damn, I never heard something like that before, and never will again, it sounded like thousands of blades scratching the glass, like someone's unspeakably familiar cries, something else both scary and disgusting beyond expression. I tried my best not to comprehend the reality of what was happening, my ears shattering under the pressure. I closed my eyes and covered my ears. I was afraid that if I fail now my destiny will be to wait here, haunting the Seekers foolish enough to try this trial.
Despite the fact I covered my ears, I could still here this scream, it tortured my head and burrowed in my mind. I closed my eyes so tightly, that I felt tears running down my face. I try to hold my screams of pain and clenched my teeth, trying not to think of anything. Finally I succeeded in that part of my trial, surviving this awful moment, that heartbreaking sound starting to fade away as it became so distant. Then, just when everything became silent, I heard guard corpse's voice in my head:
"May your life be as horrible as our death."
Even though my eyes were closed, I could see piercing white light, suddenly appearing from nowhere. My eyes hust so much as like a dull blade was cutting them from inside. I thought they've already began bleeding, melting, I was afraid that I would lose my sight, as though my retina would be burnt away. I even didn't want to think what would have happened if I hadn't closed them. That piercing light disappeared as suddenly as it appeared, with something unseen hit my back. I stepped forward and slowly opened my eyes; Taking great care as I feared I may hurt myself if I panic.
Opening my eyes, I found myself standing in front of what once has been my home. I'd be telling a lie if I said that it was ruined. Nothing was left from a place in which I spent all my life. The yard had been burnt and I saw brownish, bones on the ground. The asphalt was still bleeding was almost destroyed, cracked and turned inside out. Through its wound-like holes I saw something looking rotten, yet still living, like fleshy innards. On this place where I once lived, I saw nothing but blackened stone and cracked walls, somehow still able to stand. From the building's foundation nothing but pieces of reinforcement, torn apart, were left. Only a single flight of stairs were left untouched, almost hanging in the air connected to a single apartment, it looked surreal. Almost unbeleivable - the only thing holding up these stairs, this room, was a weakened reinforcement and small piece of stone like bridging.
And I knew for sure whose flat it was. As well as I knew what I must do there.
I said a quick prayer, asking forgiveness from everyone I had known, walking forward and avoiding the oozing cracks. When I finally managed to get to the stairs, I climbed, feeling the air get hotter and seeing the sky lower as I reached upward. And I felt like I knew what was going on - there was neither a way back, nor a way to die here. It felt like the only I could do and not to stuck, to not be trapped in this place. Now I knew that all I can do is to try.
Imagining all the possiblities for faliure made me worry, distracting me when I took that first step. Touching it, I heard sound of crasing and explosions - like a skyscrape falling. I wanted to look behind and see what had happened, yet knew that for my own good I'd better dare. As I stood for a moment and thought about it, I decided that my intuition wouldn't let me down, and continued ascending. I soon realized that my decidion not to look behind was by far the best. With each step I took I could hear this spine-chilling sound of another crashing. I could soon hear screams, full of unspeakable despair, and smell the stench of rotting flesh.
The door to my place was broken, only the hinge was holding it, and a substance of slime and blood was slowly dripping down. During this journey my feelings of disgust almost became natrual, at this point I couldn't care less about it. Climbed through the door, trying not to touch the slime, I finally reached my apartment.
Surprizingly, all my possessions were left untouched. Everything looked like it used to do in my ordinary life. I was surprized by something else - the only souce of light was that broken door. However, when my eyes finally could see in the low light, I saw yet another sight I hope to never see again. There was a long trail of blood on the floor. It looked like many people were slaughtered in this very place and dragged across the floor. This trail was leading to my own room.
Entering my room, I could guess what would I see. Curiously enough, I wasn't scared or disgusted anymore. Maybe there is a barrier, even for moral pain. After what I've seen before nothing could scare me anymore.
However, I was sure in that only till the moment I came into what used to be my room.
There was no window here, nothing but walls. However, despite the darkness, I could see everything coloured in the shades of crimson. The smell of rot and blood made my nose ache and my eyes water. In the middle of the room I saw bodies, piles of corpses of those whom I used to know in my life. In this horryfying tangles or bodies I could see my father with a slashed abdomen, my bisected girlfriend, my frineds butchered, my skinless colleagues. The removed flesh and flayed skin was lying near that pile like a carpet. Among the dead bodies I could even see my decapitated mother. However there was someone far more impressive. The being which sat on these corpses like on the throne, perfectly completed the sight of all consuming and heartless insanity.
It was a scrawny and strangely elongated creature, whose skin was dull and greyish brown in colour, in some places marked by bruises that appeared like a sort of postmortem lividity. His short black hair was uncombed, among the strands lay long, fat worms. They swarmed, tangling and intertwining. When I saw them, my thoughts suddenly changed, I scratched at my head to make sure I had been uneffected. I finally shook this feeling and continued contemplating this creature. His eyebrows were woman-like, thin and neat, his eyes looking as like someone scratched them out. However in the depths of his eyesockets, stained with blood, I saw what can only be described as white sparkles of light looking out towards me. There was an insanity to his appearance, with three dark and long vertical holes in his skull in place of a nose. It looked like his nose has been cut out, just as his mouth lacked lips, instead having only folds of skin. In it's mouth I could see two rows of sharp white fangs, they made him look like he was permanently and deliriously grinning. His shoulders where little more then bone, disgusting and knobby scars. Under his ribs I saw one more flesh cut, fresh, bleeding. All the time he clenched his fists and stabbed claws into the rotting skin around him. I could feel a sense of nervousness, however, then I wasn't sure why. This creature's clothes were old and dirty, dark-blue breechers. I supposed that he has taken them from a mortal victim. Against the view of this awful appearence was a golden medallion on his neck, shining wonderously. It was large and its front side was segmented in three parts. Each one a different colour emblazoned on the surface. I couldn't say that this thing was attractive or skillful. In fact is was too heavy, too big, and yet in that realm full of pain it was nothing but a pure beauty.
This creature was still clenching his fists, looking at me with those empty eyes. It looked like he was waiting for something, and I tried my best to remember the story. When I did, I put a look of despise on my face and asked the creature: "Why do you do something, which won't lead to anything?"
To tell you the truth, I had no idea what this meant exactly. "Please, don't hurt me" was my only other thought. I hoped my memory didn't let me down and I didn't rearrange the words. However, I probably had nothing to fear. The Holder stopped scratching corpses and raised his head. In that very moment, in his insane eyes, I saw something very simular to unutterable inhuman hopelessness. I suppose that even someone whose dreams had been cruelly crushed, who had lost everything, couldn't have even the smallest inflection of what I felt. The truth is, for the first time, this was enough for me to feel that something in my heart fell into nothingless, a place from where there is no way back.
The creature sat comfortably, speaking calmly with a voice like the rustle of autumn leaves. "How often do you mortals refer to things as "worthless" when your only desire is to erase them from memory? Worthless? No one needs it. Useless? It's better to leave it behind if it can't bring you anything. The truth is, many of these "worthless" things are very curious..."
"Yeah-yeah, say what you want and let me go!" I though to myself as I heard these almost meaningless phrases. I felt like a complete stranger in that dark realm. I tried my best to ignore the Holder, yet something forced me to listen to him, to let his words flow through my very being. I know I could do nothing, but when I remember this day, I can't stop cursing myself for that. The knowledge I heard almost killed me.
He spoke in my own language, his manner of speaking was calm and absorbing. He told me about seemingly simple and trite things as emptiness, futility and the human souls. He told me what forces can tear a soul apart, what the consequences will be and about a victim's destiny. I learned about the "dead days", the days when your life destroys itself, where you are left feeling so empty that you can see the black net over your eyes. It is the effect such a moment can have one your very soul. I learned that this black net before my eyes was actually my way to this realm, that it shall open for everyone who will call for the Holder. "Dead days" and Objects are strongly connected, and the pieces of the long past still hurt the innocents. I heard about a creature powerful enough to destroy galaxies and create Gods. My eerie interlocutor refered to this creature just "He". And in the end of his story the Holder told what He exactly awaits and fears.
Dispassionately, the Holder finished his story: "When the time comes, things you have seen will be a tear in the endless ocean of sorrow. The debris of the past became one and in that very day the Objects finally reach an opportunity of being reunited. However, I don't think that defence is all you need."
The Holder told his story in one go. He didn't stop to catch a breath, nor did he look away. My imagination was never good, but somehow I realized that I could see all the grotesque pictures he described as well as they all passed before my very eyes. When he has been talking to me, I wanted to kneel before him, beg him to stop, to tell me no more, but my will to survive was stronger than my mind's attempts to protect itself. When he has fallen silent and looked at me with his insane eyes, I realized that I know my soul's and mind's weight and shape. I felt as like a jar filled to the brim which's contents could spill in every moment.
Managing to catch my breath, I realized that I must do more. My mind was in coufusion, I felt dizzy, but I tried my best to think calmly. I could see the Holder sitting on the corpses in front of me, he watched attentively. He probably wanted me to act. Outside the room there was nothing but a crushed and broken realm full of hate, pain and anger. So what could I do? What could possibly make sense? Run away? Take a corpse from the pile? Say something? Or else...
I looked at the corpses again and finally got it. I saw my strange friend with whom I used to talk about the Holders long ago and the answer suddenly came to my mind:
"The realm is falling apart, if you are not quick, it will its new place, your soul. Pray that you'll die soon after that; at least, the physical pain will leave you. Right now, you can still escape, only you and the Holder has enough strength to break it or to restore it. However, the realm will only find it's peace when one of you is defeated."
I suppose that the Holder have noticed my grim smile of satisfaction. He stabbed his claws so deeply into flesh, so a small stream of blood flew from under them. However he didn't evey try to more. He knew for sure what I was going to do to him but somehow he couldn't neither protect himself nor run away. Or he didn't want to.
I suppose that the Holder must have noticed my grim smile of satisfaction. He stabbed his claws so deeply into the flesh that a small stream of blood flew from beneath them. This creature knew what I was going to do to him, yet appeared unable to run and unable to protect himself; perhaps he didn't want to.
I had never felt so furious in my life. Moving forward and grabbing his hair. The worms sprouting from his head, twined around my arm, yet I didn't care. I grabbed his hair as tight as I could, striking the Holder's face against my knee.
At first I was sure that he would scream as horribly as the guard before, beg me for mercy. I was wrong, he made not a sound. When I turned his face towards me, to see what I've done to him, I notice he had no reaction to a fang shattered from it's place. The fact that he didn't try to resist enraged me even more; I wouldn't probably be so angry if he tried to fight back. I hit Holder's ribs with my knee and pulled his hair up. I heard an awful sound of something cracking as I felt something wet and slimy flowing down my hand. As I could see, the worms on his head consisted of only blood.
For the first time in my life I regretted that I never was strong or heavy. The fact that my "opponent" was lying at the floor didn't bother me at all. I wished I could hurt him more. I never felt myself so powerful; at this moment I found myself a foul creatures' overlord. I gave a grim smile to the Holder and then stepped on his left wrist. I pressed it against the floor as hard as I could.
This time the Holder tried to pull his hand away from my boot, but I wasn't going to let him do that. Once again I pressed his wrist against the floor and hit his face with my leg. The crunch of bones and muffled moan were my reward. Finally I managed to hurt him. When I looked down I saw that Holder was trying to fix his jaw with his undamaged hand. I wasn't able to understand did I broke it or just luxated. However I didn't care about it. I was really angry with the fact that he was trying to ease his plight. My domination above him was so amazing, I wanted to torture him again. I released his wrist, crushed and bleeding, putting my foot on the Holder's neck. With his undamaged hand he tried to move my leg away but I was faster and stronger that the creature which was almost unable to perceive reality after what I've done to him already. I grabbed this hand with my hands and hit it against my knee. Once again I heard that crack and somehow the hand became lighter, losing its shape. I threw it roughly, looking in the Holder's eyes, wiping my hands off my pants, as though they were dirty.With all my weight, I pressed the Holder's neck against the floor. I heard crunch, I felt that creature was trying to stand up. And finally I heard his weak and rasping voise: "Don't... do it. Take the..."
At first I wanted to shout: "Take what?!" but somehow my sanity came back to me. I stood as still as I was frozen, and the last words of the story were echoing through my mind:
"Be warned: the task is harder than you may think. Sometimes fighting against your own bloodlust can be harder that fighting against the strongest enemy in the world. Sometimes a Seeker will not satisfy their bloodlust without tearing everyone apart. Even themselves."
Then, when I fully realized what did it mean, I felt hot and cold in one time. I have never been in such a confusion before. It seemed that I almost have overdone the final part of my trial. What happened to me? I never was agressive, hot-tempered, or, moreover, cruel. And now I hurt a being. Maybe he was unpleasant, scary, but he wasn't evil at all! I hurt him consciously and, what's more, I have enjoyed my superiority. Is it what do Objects do to humans? Or... is it just a beginning?
I really wanted to apologize to the Holder for my cruelty, but the words stuck in my throat. After all I've done to him, he didn't even try to stand up or move. Suddenly my eyes started to hurt and I had dry mouth. Now I knew that I'm the most disgusting creature in this world. So I leaned to the Holder - I think I'll never forget the horror in his eyes - and ripped the medallion off his neck.
When I did it, everything around me started to change. The pile of corpses has disappeared, as well as the Holder. Daylight filled my room again, because the window was back on its place. Once again I could hear sounds of the street. But there was one more sound - the rain. Sunny day was replaced by downpour which as like was trying to clean away the disgust I saw before on the ither side of our realm. And then, when I, still clutching Dead Days' medallion came closer to the window, I realized that I know what to do next. Even though this trial didn't let me to get rid of my problems, but gave me a bunch of new.
A few mounths passed since my adventure. I had my life to be put back to normal and many things to think over. And I can't say that I didn't manage to succeed. I found a new job, my girlfriend forgive me, I paid all my debts off. It was hard, but I did my best to teach myself to look in the eyes of those whose corpses were the throne to the Holder of Dead Days without feeling a horrible pain in my soul. I didn't tell anyone of my adventure. Even my Seeker friend whose stories helped me to survive and get an Object knows nothing. Honestly, the fact I got an Object doesn't make me happy at all. I don't want to remember what happened to me and what have I done, so I put it away in order never see it again. But now I know that it didn't help. The Medallion, or something which only looks like it, is still haunting me, saying me to keep Seeking, to get other Objects. I try my best to resist, but its influence if very strong. I don't think I'll last long. Seems like I've already became a Seeker, a cursed and doomed soul, and that's why I can't stop regretting about my sillyness and recklessness. I obeyed my emotions and took on the Seeker's burden on my free will. And this burden is not for everyone. Not at all.
The Medallion is Object 154 of 538. You can't change your past, but sometimes it can be different from what you remember.
@темы:
Творческое,
Holderesque