Dreams of Madness

[meow23meow]

In a dream, I was shown the destiny of our world.

Their ancient tongue echoes in my mind.

"Cahf ah nafl mglw'nafh hh' ahor syha'h ah'legeth, ng llll or'azath syha'hnahh n'ghftephai n'gha ahornah ah'mglw'nafh"

I have no knowledge of what it means. It is alien to me, yet...

Strangely familiar.

Time and time again, I sing in this eldritch tongue.

Ancient and forgotten, perhaps for a reason.

And as much as I know all is futile,

I can't help but feel scared of the end.

Even if I close my eyes,

Deprive myself of sleep and dreams,

SOMETHING will always remind me of our fate.

The end of the sane world of men.

[meow23meow]

I grew taller this year.

I thought I knew everything.

Months went by and everything became "maybe".

I feel distant.

I don't feel like myself anymore.

Even if I have all the characteristics of a human being - flesh, blood, skin, hair.

But I can't seem to find a single identifiable emotion.

Except for dread and disgust.

Something horrible is happening inside of me.

I think I'm on the verge of frenzy.

My mask of sanity is slipping.

The pain in my chest grows each passing day, slowly.

Our world marches to its end.

The living and the dead will soon be one in the void.

True death. Eternal solitude.

But it's not enough.

I want my pain to be experienced by others.

I don't want *anyone* to escape.

I do not hope for a better world for anyone.

If you look into my eyes, you will see what I know.

You will see glimpses of the dreams that haunt me.

Even after admitting this...

There is no sort of catharsis.

SOMETHING convinces me that Gwendoline is dead.

The omen is manifesting.

Reality crumbling to pieces, like a puzzle.

A false and unfunny puzzle.

Either we replace our petty emotions, or...

Keep our blood, let them bleed oceans.

And we will watch as our skins decay.

We are but fodder to them.

This is the truth.

The forbidden reality.

[meow23meow]

Distinctly I remember, the days where I didn't feel like an empty husk. Night after night, I am thrilled and amazed by the visions show by beings from outer planes. Every day, I give in - bathe myself in their infinity knowledge, praise myself for being who I am.

I love myself.

My soul grew stronger, no longer fearing that which is not to be seen, and the fact that my naps are more and more frequent gives that away. They are part of me now, dreaming dreams no mortals dare to dream. All my soul within me burning, the whispers grew louder each passing day - SOMETHING was manifesting way often than before. I was being accepted by them, yet... I felt sick.

The years have not been gentle to me, not at all. I've been losing my strength, the strength to get up from my bed, to breathe... it's been hard lately, but I got friends.

My friends love me.

Standing in the corner, unblinking, unmoving... something not human, nor friend. But I cared for him as he cares for me, except I grew to enjoy his company.

"You do not need to worry, my listener." 

 

The truth is... I'm dying.

Since I feel ill, I lost contact with all who I thought mattered. My family, the mutants who I so much adored abusing, the lonely prisoners waiting for their fate. And since then, my connection to the void and its magnificent horrors was strengthened. Everything I needed was right here, in my room. My lonely and disgusting room, filled with the smell of death and putrid, the smell of someone rotting, slowly.

That someone is me.

But Plague didn't mind, I could feel his eyes staring at me - waiting for my last breath, waiting for me to leave this world, to fulfil my destiny. Death. He waited for my death. Until I couldn't breathe evermore. Often I would extend my hand to him, and he would help me up; as much of an empty husk I am, I wasted time in petty details, I lost time with daily trivialities, and Plague wasted a tiny bit of this time with me. Playing chess. He would lose every time, sometimes getting close to beat me - but alas... never once he won.

A queen and her horse would take down the king. Sounds familiar, doesn't it, Plague? Time and time again the same two pieces sealed the fate of your king. Checkmate.

...my cough is getting worse, the pain is agonizing. I look up and can almost see SOMETHING wanting to drag me away, his tentacles drawing closer and closer over time. My eyes fall back onto the real world. I can't get out of bed.

I don't wanna leave this world yet. My voice calls for Plague, he can lift me easily and take me where I need.

"This has to work, right?"

Plague watches as I cut my hair, piece by piece they fall to my sickly feet, my hands tremble, my weakness grows. Sometimes I felt like stabbing my own throat with the scissors, but that would be most horrible. It was pathetic to ask but I needed him to help me cut what remained of my beautiful hair.

I stared at myself, and I could not see who I was. I felt like a ghost of a long past, someone long forgotten but whom I still... cared.

It was useless to think about it anyway, whoever they are, they are dead. They never saw me but I saw them, through paintings and stories. "Plague," I call for him, turning to my caretaker, "What is it like? To leave this world?"

Unmoving, his voice replies - and the answer is... eerie. For a long time now, I have not felt fear, I have not felt anything, until hearing his words echoing in my mind. I broke down and cried whatever was left of my soul out, surrounded by my own hair and in front of me, an abomination.

My life was pathetic, wasn't it? This is not a tale about a hero, it's a tale about giving up.

I was taken back to my room, my hand gesturing to the piano - and sitting with Plague, we played one last melody.

Somehow I've taught him how to help me play, a duet of sorts - except I did most of the work, of course. My hands moved swiftly and with less precision than they used to have, I still had the touch for it, the mind to play - and Plague was more than willing to help, either by his own will or by his duty. They humoured me for a while, we played this over and over until from my sickly coughs, blood came out.

"I'm dying, Plague," I turn to look at him, the tears already rolling out. "I know, my listener," that annoying voice echoes in my mind, the creature unmoving.

The bastard wanted this, he wanted me to die, it was our destiny as mortals. We lived only to die. Our entire lives we fight against it, fear of pain, fear of losing, fear of death. No matter what anyone says, at the end of the day, you fought against death. You fought to survive. It's only natural.

My body moves to get up, falling miserably to the floor - which Plague helps me up to my bed. I'm staring at the rooftop, unblinking. Plague's shadow looming over me as he stared, unmoving, in silence. I felt the air growing denser. "Lock the door, Plague," I whisper, which he obeys - I hear the lock turning and his footsteps going to the door and back to the bedside.

Eyes still focused on the rooftop, now it seems distorted, opening to somewhere far away - a dark and horrible place. The familiar figure coming out of it, the yellow robes clearly denouncing who it is. SOMETHING came to fulfil my destiny. I was scared, and I extended my hand slowly to Plague, and he held it firmly.

"Don't leave me alone, Plague," I ask him. "Don't take your shadow from off my room, and do not release my hand."

Whatever was happening, that annoying voice could still be heard: "Close your eyes, my listener."

I felt the tentacles grasping me, life slipping away as my last breath was closing in. I still don't believe in nothing. Not like it mattered, right?

Lazav, it's almost time to go, I'll be waiting for you on the Void.

Talia, be good, alright? I hope you can find your place in this horrible world, be it in the Vanreths or somewhere else.

Nik, thank you for being who you were with me. I hope to see you soon.

War, Death, Famine, you were the friends I never thought I'd have. Weird, huh. Each of you has a place in my disgusting and fucked up heart. If that means anything to the abominations you three are.

...mother, be free.

And father. Nidaz. Overlord. Lich. However you call yourself, may your true death be horrible, may you suffer the most agonizing pain when the time to join the Void comes. I dearly hope there is a special place just for you, where whatever's left of you can be tortured forevermore. But until then? Make sure to bring this world with you, because I know you will never change. You will always be a monster. But take care of our family, take care of mother.

My last thoughts are about the people who I cared for the most, in a way or another. 

I tried... mother, father. I tried. In the end... I did. But, it wasn't enough - your gift was lost with me, as it should be, and it will always be... but another will take my place, just like her, just like me.

I wish I could've taken half of you with me, set this world into chaos - but, that was never my destiny.

Do not think death is an exit, because it is not.

Let this sad story cease.