A slighted man

[Cloakedsphere 1462]

Spoiler

https://www.deviantart.com/fyrrea/art/Atom-Heart-Mother-529345779

A man sits alone, deep within the depths of his home. Within the depth was a dark cave with multiple artifacts surrounding him. Most would be the eyes of those who had slighted the poor man, others were weapons and trophies. The eyes would peer around the room and seemingly follow the man as he walked amongst the dark cave before coming to a halt. His loyalties in question, he thought of his past, present, and future. He had made mistakes in his past and sought to correct these mistakes in the present for a better future for his people. People that he had considered close family even though they are not of the same ilk. He had knowledge dating back to his reign of the book that had circulated the populace of his people, seeking to slaughter the poor man for simply trying to defend his people from the tyrants of the world and allowing them to be as free as they could be. He sought that no citizen of his were to be bound by the chains of law and order of his nation and so they plotted.

Plotted they had indeed. A book detailing the dark creatures that have existed amongst their own and those enslaving his people also included the multi-phase plan to assassinate the poor man. Yet they would never act upon this plan, the man had always felt slighted by his people. He has given them everything he had to give besides his own life. He has sworn his own life and soul to the spirits but now his own people wished to take this from him. In his saddened state deep within the cave, he began to weep.
 

(( Slight Gore warning. I have spoiler'd this section incase you did not wish to read this part. ))
 

Spoiler

The man would remove a knife from his belt and with the other hand, the mask upon his face. He sat and contemplated life and the choices he had made. He second-guessed himself many times as his mind raced with questions, unsure now of his future. The man would continue to weep as a deep and guttural noise emitted from his mouth. The man would lift the knife to his face, as something had entered his mind. A voice, speaking to him softly as he wept. It spoke with comfort and compassion as he listened to the few words that spoke.

 

 

Spoiler

https://www.deviantart.com/fyrrea/art/Breathe-552488904

 

“M̨̮̼̆ͨy͎̣͕͉͇̞̳̩̽ͫ̀̀ ̛̮͍͍̩̖͙͐ͦc͔̤͉̜̫̘̏̇ͫ͘ͅh̩̤͕̤͓̎͆̈́͒͢ĭ̩̟̟̝̘̼̏̃̕l̰̱̦̜̱͎̭̅ͫ̑ͪ͞d̡̳̯͎̋ͧ͑ͅ.”
 

(My Child.)

“D̷̰̺͚̜̳̈́ͫ̆o̵͙͍ͯ̅ ͚̳͈̹̦͓͕̄͜n̴͎̲̥͆̓̓ô̜͈̼ͤͣ̆͟ͅt̨̗͚̑͑̓ ̴̳͈̺̦̼͇̮͛̀h̟̩ͥ̀ạ̢͓̺̞̯̼̥͔͋̊̊v̛̺̲ͧ̆̇͗ͅe̛̻̮͒ ̧̦̬̠̺̮̳͍͉ͤ̑f̸͖̱͚̭̦̘ͤe̽͐͋҉̥̖̰̙̩̼̟̪a̺̖̯͓͚͔͇ͭ̊ͦ̔͞r͚̹͔̻̹̒͞.”
 

(Do not have fear.)

“Y̼͕̠͔̥ͪ̾͛́̚ͅͅo͍͎͎͑̑͟û͉̪̩͓ͩͧ͟ ̴̗͈̯͛s̷̫͙̲̻̣̼͉͒ͤt̷̪̘͍̤͐́̽i̢̜͍͍̞̪͗̂l̶̜̖͆ͥ̑l̵̤͍͕͕͈̇̇ ̵̮̘͖ͩh̼͕̥͕̘̻̤̒ͩ͌͜ā͏̜͉̯͉̘̞v̛̥̗̦̪̮̬͇͓̓̽̂̋e̠̪̲̪̼̱̣̿͘ ̡͈͇͓͇͔̩̓̄m̨̼̩̘͙̎̿̈́ư͈̠̜ͪč̮̼͓͈͇͂͜h̨͉̰̱̑̔ͯͫ ̰̗̱͕̱ͩͦ̂͢t̠̼̻̤͐̔͞o̤̳ͤ̕ ͚̝̲̫̺̣͙̩̋̃͋̕g̛͇͉͚͍͕̪̉i̻̮̦͑ͩ͆͡v̛̬͎̼̣̓̈̂͌ę̣̞̞̠̣̹̀ͩ̒.”

 

(You still have much to give.)

 

“U̜̦ͩ̂ͤ͜s͕̤̠͚̜͓̓͡ḙ̜͓̥̮̲̃͂́ͅ ̨̣̫̼͊ẗ̲̣̰̹̜̰́͛ͬ͢ḫ͉͚̎̅͊̂͘e̸̺͙͖̗͑̅̓ ̵̤̺͖͙͎̬ͯk̵̺̰͇̗͇͇̹̓̚n͎̣̤̏̽͋͘i͓̗͉̫̿̕f͕̳͆͗͒͢ȇ͓͉͕͙͇̞̰̳ͫ̿͆̀.”

 

(Use the knife.)

 

The poor man wept as he listened to the comforting words. He’d raise the knife to his face and begin at his forehead, sinking the blade deep into his flesh as he began to skin himself in his very cave. He grunted in pain as he sobbed, sawing at his own flesh as he drug the knife through his flesh. Blood began to flow down the face and body of the man as his knife set itself free. A piece of flesh fell to the floor. He’d then move to his cheek, starting just up under where an eye would be. The blade once more cut like a razor into the flesh of the man. He gripped the flesh with his free hand, pulling it taught as the knife cut along his face. Flesh, muscle, and fat would tear as the man pulled with great force against his own head. The knife, skipping and jumping before reaching the very end of his face as another piece of flesh fell to the floor. The voice spoke as the man cried in pain. He’d been through so much suffering yet his night would not end. The voice spoke within his mind once again.

“F̯̫̞͉͇̓́̕i̱͚͛͢ṉ̶͍̗̻͙͙̞̺͛̈̑ͬi̸̙̗̣͎̙̲̤̅͂ŝ͍̼̹̦͍ͤ̏͞h̷͉͖͚̮͙͗ͅ ̸̲͎̗ͮ̇̋ͨw͕̣̳̭̠̄̋͠h̸̳͔͍̃̄ͨa͈̯̰͚̠͑͜t̵͚̳̙͛̃ ̨̟̝̪̗̺̤ͦͅy̧̼̹ͪ̃͊ͨo̗̮̘̻̮̫͈͍͐̎̚͜u͋͏̥̙̞ ̢͓̭͕͙̠̹ͧͧh̵̟͕̘̔̀̉̇a̘̞̥̟͓̦̩̓̐̚͜v͍͉̣̹͖̌ͣ͢e̻̯͚ͯ͞ ̴̞̳̻̦̀̎ͮs̸͕͖̱̪̖̱̮͎͋t͇̦̻͗̔͛͢a̒͏̗̹̭͈r̮̪̃̓͌̀t̲̮̣͑ͭ̏̆͢ḝ̞̫d͍͇͔̈̓̀ͅ,̵̟͎̝̱̩͈̂͗̋̌ ͙͚̔ͬ̈́͟ͅm̧̮͖͖̟̝͐̃͂ͮy̞͉̐̒̎͟ͅ ͖̻̰̪̪͎̟͐́c̰͎̝ͨ͂̊ͣ͜ẖ̯͈̰͒͡iͦ̑ͫ͏͚̞͈͍̰l̗̭̺͕͎̳ͪͨ̑̐͢ͅḋ̶͉̜̔̔.”

 

(Finish what you have started, my child.)

 

The poor man was unsure of what more he could do besides take his own life. His mind raced with visions and voices and yet the only one clear enough to be understood was the one encouraging his behavior. He’d raise his knife to the other cheek and with a grunt, thrusted it deep into his maw. The knife penetrated his cheek with ease and would slice through his tongue. Teeth would be chipped as the blade shot through the mouth of the poor man before exiting out the other end. His face became a bloodied mess. The floor, flooded with blood, pieces of skin, muscle, and fat. The man had given all he could. His eyes grew heavy and his frame slumped forward. His grip weakened upon the blade before it fell to his side and his whole body slumped onto the floor as his head made contact with the rocky substrate first. The man continued to bleed for another hour before the bleeding would finally cease. Death was at his door and he could feel its embrace.

A couple days would pass. Maggots, flies, and other bugs would swarm the man as he laid lifeless upon the floor. The maggots feast upon the rotting pieces of flesh and upon the open wounds of the man. As the time had passed, his vision began to come back to him once again and he’d be seemingly awakened. A muffled voice of unknown origin spoke to him in his dreary state.

“Å̡̻̭̖͙̥̻̽̏̒w̭̺͉̻͖̥̟̫͛͢a̴̦̟̱̖̞̺̟ͣͩk̺̮̊͘e̔͑҉̬͇̱͚͎̘n͕̰̦̩͙͍̗͆ͥ̎ͮ͡,̮̰̬̠͉͙̇̔͝ ̆͏͈̳̼̼̣m͓͙̖̗̙̼̿ͫ̔͠y̹̲̭̞͉͇̭̒ͣ́̚̚ ͖̖͎̙͎͎̟̳ͨ̎͜s͎̫̯̻̅ͤ̓̚͞o̰̜̓͢n̞̺̥͍̼ͫ̏̌ͮ́.”

(Awaken, my son.)

“Ị̵̗̰͍͙̪͕͆ͅ ̧͍̘̰̦ͥ̓̚ḧ̢̗̼́ȃ̸͎̲̺̱̓͛ͫv̨̟͈̙̲̺̫̱̅e̤̭̠ͬͥ͊̆̕ ̖͉̲̺͔͇ͥͣ̕ṅ̷͍͚͕̜̘o̧̘̙̻͖̲̻̫̣̽̋t̨̬̻̟̍ ͯ͋̏҉̝͇̯̫ḡ̟̣ͥͧͮ́ͅi͎͚̱̤̦̖̪͊͟v̬̥̩̺̙̇ͩ͛̿͢e̩̜̝͇̮̟͓ͧ̔̏̀ņ͖̫̫̖̤̯͌͂̓ͨ ͦ͗҉͔̞̟̝͚͕̝̦y̨̠̦̙̞͔̭ͥo̴̭͎̹͇͕̫͕̰̐͌ũ̷̲̠ͩ̓ ͉̭̲͓̀͒͜p̞̳̽̊ͥ̄͜e̢̥̖̻ͪ̽r̡̯̭̥̥̬ͣͩ̓m̜̦͈̭ͭͫͩͤ́ï̡̪̩̐̒s̡͙̭̩͈̘ͫs̺͈̗͂̽̇͜ĭ̷͈̻̙̫̻ͅo̶͔͚̹̫̣̪͍̳ͫ͑̔ñ̑͏̪̹̼ ̡̯̞̟̤͔̍͐ͫtͨ̇҉͈̞̥o͓̯͖͉̿̆̑͡ ̛̬̙̠̔d̟͇͖͔̈̍͐͆̀i̡̬͎ͬeͤ̑҉̱̯͍̜̲̹.”

 

(I have not given you permission to die.)

“Y̷͚̥̫͂̽o̡̪̹̽ủ̩̻̮͌͌̆̀ͅ ̘͙̩͔̘̞̻̞ͩͤ͐́k̮̟̤̲͓̠̻̿̏ͪͪ͡n̸̦̳͈̠ͮỏ̹͇̻̮̫̲ͨ͢w̫̽ͬ͊͞ͅ ̄̋̽͆͏̳̗͈̮ỷ͔͖̮̗̤ͫ͑͡o̍͏͍͕͔̲u̜̘̪̥̲̬̼͆ͯ̽ͣ͜r̞̼̩̪͖̺̖͖ͦ͡ ̲̻͇̟̐̊͜p̓̓̋҉͈̘u̟̝̝̝͍̯̩͙ͯͫ̅́̕r̸̰̳͐ͯp̑͏̹͉͖̫̲͎ở̹̳͖͉̬͉̖̒s̬͖̰̥ͨ͗̎͡ͅe̸͙̣̖̝̓͋.”

(You know your purpose.)

The man awoke from his slumber. A knife still deeply embedded into his face would have maggots crawling upon it as skin began to heal itself around the knife. He’d reach up in his weakened state, pulling the knife from his face and reopening the wound. Blood began to pour once again and the man looked at his mask. He dropped the knife to reach for it. He raised the mask once more to his face, creating a type of air-lock seal upon his face as the wounds pressed up against it and amalgamated into one. He did not care for the maggots feasting upon his face or rotting flesh that was left upon the floor. All he could think about was the deceiving nature of his own people. His allegiance to the spirits was unwavering. Yet he found himself at a crossroads. His only comfort was in the one that spoke to him.

 

Spoiler

https://www.deviantart.com/fyrrea/art/Embrace-91901458

 

(( OOC Notes: I should've wrote this a couple months ago when the book was shown to me then. Yet I had little time to sit down and do any real RP. I recently got shown the book again and it had reminded me that I should add this as part of my character arc. This post is not IC Knowledge and is merely for character development. ))

[Orphvius 435]

Spoiler

Cool read