Let me set the scene: you walk through a door with your band of merrys when all of a sudden, they disappear.
As you look up... you see darkness, and when you look down, the floor is damp.
Why is it damp? There was no reason for it to be. Yet it is.
So, you push through the everpile of questions, forcing them into a cramped space inside your mind; and you prioritize yourself with the first thing you encounter.
Another door. This time, a gate. Large and imposing, this gate pours a cup of derision at the mere sight of you. It invites you to drink- at your own expense.
That kind of attitude doesn’t sit well with you, so you plunge yourself through it... wading through a film of darkness, deep into the omnipresent ticking.
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
One. What is this place? The most simple glance could identify a castle- though you were not a simple woman, so that implication posed a wary question: where are its inhabitants?
Night may it be, there should stand guards that hold the keep.
So... where are they?
An ask that prompts response from silence gleefully, who, from birth, clung onto these walls softly.
Satisfied by the answer and curious to its endearing coos, you make from the intial room and engratiate yourself to a pantry.
That’s when you realize... the door led you to the back.
A great door, of great stature- a wise door; that, were it told in the tales of a castle, would hold its own page.
That door... was in the back?
Thus began the first of seven wonders.
Two:
A nightmare of tasteless decor. Who garners their halls in such blend exude?
Endless swirls of unjulating colors that sink into the duskness and splatter under light- a thoughtful mess is what it was; it dons a face, painted to conjeal its mask.
Pillars upon pillars that line with doors upon doors, and just so much dripping.
Splish-splash splish-splash; you make your way through the corridor, the entire experience a deformity of chromatic sight seeking to please itself; disgusting.
You don’t care to look behind you, but you imagine every step backwards would have less distortion than the last. It is quite the unsubtle hint of ‘you are not welcome here’.
That is, until you meet an old door.
It displays an odd tell that bears upsettance with you, but you choose to ignore and carry on.
As you turn your fingers along the handle, it speaks at you: ‘leave.’
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
I had wondered if you dare say this castle was unimpressive, when you mean not.
The main halls, wider than a stretch, lay space- space and objects- far many objects, that also stretch...
Coupling the excess of space; they create a contrast that seem null-void, and far beyond the brim.
Your eyes lurch away from the decor, gathering themselves to senses- yet the collection of arbitrary embellishment remains to be ridiculous, whether or not you behold them.
Stupid, pointless, yet- impressive, all the same.
And here it is that you are posed the third question:
Who had the lifetimes to create this mess... and why?
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
The fourth comes in waves.
A room, on the second floor, disjointed from the others- hidden, on purpose; to invite curiousity.
You take the invitation of your own accord and make your paces in... slowly: with caution.
There, you are shown paintings, enslaved- they cannot leave their posts; and all they do, they display.
These are no simple paintings that serve as a window to forgotten life, but instead, wide jaws to bare a stomach filled... frothing; oozing.
Stolen days of they portrayed kept locked within the open frames; taunting a bird who could no longer fly.
They rang hollow of what was seen, and instead, took their own interpretation: twisted; bereaved.
Of course, the only way to describe them would be masterful: in a way that has served its master’s purpose- but what kind of painter captures life... and then, tortures it?
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
Five was a simple note- an imaginary one, based on your own judgement- but you deduced that it read: “Basement”; where you needed to be.
A trick? A trap? More invitations? A grocery list, perhaps, for an avid basement collector.
T’would be foolish scene to make sense of a single word, one especially not meant for yourself.
But as you try; the dust, to you, relayed a solemn secret: it has been waiting, for many lonely years.
So, who was it then meant?
A guest, awaiting arrival?
Have they already left?
Maybe... they never did.
With mind to heart and question in mind, you brush it, gently, ending its chastity; with remnants lingering upon your fingers, you bring it along to find out, together- this mystery.
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
Six. Six. Six. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Yes, the constant ticking.
You search for this elusive basement, but something bothersome searched you.
Not just any ticking; the most constant... unending... annoying.
‘Tis as if you could hear your own insanity plea: ‘find me.’
Is this what it is like to be empty- to be restless and hollow?
A single drop-drip that becomes your existence and turns from you a restful silence to a rippling... tick... tick... tick...
It laughs, fleeing, and echoes the recesses of your mind to that every time you think you’ve caught the right one- there appears another.
Where are the others? You have become so engrossed in the playings-out of your own story that you have forgotten a simple truth; this anthology is shared.
What became of them? Why do you enjoy questions- because they were sexy, that’s why; utterly.
In a mixture of resignation and inquisition, you open your mind and allow a fall to torrent, that they may be answered such pouringly. But in turn, they came: the questions that forgot to ask.
Why had that room been different?
You knew how, but why?
It lacked a certain... dripping.
The decor had shifted, and it was plain.
No, more than that, this room has died, long ago- it was the victim of impassionate crime.
In a draught amidst a rainy forest, you stood at the epicenter of all.
But what was the draught?
An ironic comparison, true, but... everything else dripped with... oh-
Blood.
‘Twas not decor. ‘Twas blood. And in that rush, they appear frantic- breathless. The Questions.
Why were there nay any bodies?
Whose blood is it?
The castle’s?
And why did you not recognize it?
In fact, why has naught happened?
Fraught with naught and nary a mention- post a leisurely stroll round cemetary lane, you somehow are alive?
Why- how?
That raises more concern than anything.
The blood is fresh.
Why is it fresh?
How are you alive?
Is the place truly empty?
Or-
If you are stupid, more so, you would ignore the signs that are clearly there; but coming from a place of wealth- an informative utopia- you know.
Something, in the corners of your eyes; the echoes in the distance; the scent in the air.
The lie of a prey, lived lax by a predator’s.
You remember...
a time when you were the hunted.
And thus you forgot,
a time when you were the hunter.
Contemporary to an existence that keeps your mind racing- seeking all attention from the skin of your nape; dripping soft shivers down your spine.
Ah, yes, how loathesome...
this dreadful nostalgia.
Tick-Tock Tick-Tock
So says the clock
The night is here
The night is here
What... what is that?
Tick-Tock Tick-Tock
So says the clock
It's time to rest
It's time to stop
That song... I've heard it before...
Tick-Tock Tick-Tock
So says the clock
The night is here
The night is here
Tick-Tock Tick-Tock
So says the clock
It's time to rest
It's time to stop
Do you know what this is?
An undead choir?
Answer seriously, dear.
Um... I don't know. A siren? Ooh! A banshee!
No, very close though. This... is a lone bunny.
A lone bunny? I love bunnies!
Not a lone bunny, a lone bunny.
Wait... you mean... this is...
I assume you've heard the stories?
I have... will it hurt me?
Do not be afraid, the voice of a bunny can't affect you- not yet.
What? Why?
You'll understand one day. For now, I will teach you how to deal with it, in case you ever come across one again...
Tick-Tock Tick-Tock
Hello there
We see you peep
We see you stare
Ah, what is this feeling?
This loneliness that pours into where I reside.
A disrespect to separation between the heart and the mind.
You remember a time when you were unaffected.
A simpler time.
Then come the times when you were alone.
And the bunny began its song...
You could hear it if you only tried.
When it was ever-too... quiet.
No matter who you are or how lonely you feel,
the bunnies will always be there for you.
An innocent thought then, but now... terrifying.
How long had they a hold?
Was it too late to escape?
Images of a broken family flash through your mind, and the castle around you begins to resemble what you once built...
Helheim.
How long was it ago?
Who knows?
They say the cruelest punishment is to be imprisoned for a lifetime.
What if that life never ends?
What of the spirals outside what you knew?
Does it still turn? Do they turn with it?
Had it stopped long ago...?
Had someone told you...
would you ever believe them?
Endless has a corner that you were placed on.
Like a misbehaving child.
Fenris.
Jormungandr.
Loki.
Three names you must not forget, no matter how hard.
They were your brothers, they were your father, they were your family...
Everything you were; that, is what they are.
You held meaning to them, once.
Before you were so ungraciously abandoned.
So alone.
So lonely.
You grew up with them... so why?
Huh...?
The bunny, of course.
I can't allow it to feed from me; from my emotions; from my memories.
Forget... forget... tsk, no, no, no that’s wrong. I’m not thinking straight.
I must chain myself to the present, or be dragged to the past.
Think... of all I have now, of all that could; if I so wish, what was once mine may still be reclaimed.
I... am... not... tied... down.
I choose to keep these memories.
They do not linger through regret.
They have no hold on me as I do them.
‘DO NOT... CORRUPT... MY... MEMORIES!’
And thus, the feeling passes.
But for how long?
You have now to solve the riddle before you succumb to its song.
You blink.
Once.
Twice.
Eyes sharpen their trusty blade.
You tilt a-slight towards the side, glaring the new room afright.
Many lay their claims within this castle.
They cast unfavorably towards you.
But this time, you think to yourself, this time, you will be mine.
Be it apt or irony, the room you now subdue is a dungeon- oddly bright.
Silvery ribbons form a minuet around a cage, most likely to an ancient rhythm of its culture.
Had you time in your hands, you were most likely to study it and become acquainted.
Alas, the everlasting enigma reminds you that this universe is not your own,
and repeats in the words of a wise, aged handle, that you should leave.
This is what they called a puzzle with no piece.
Tsk, a bother.
An interesting bother; the most bothersome of all.
I need not say, but you are addicted to the sensation of discovery; this one was quite the hit.
Fortifying a resistance to the impulse that demands you submit, you feign abstinence in the face of noble pleasure.
But that has been another mistake.
Had you averted your sight, the next you would have never seen. An-
Experiment chamber! A full lab. Ooh, I wonder if any of this still works? What were they making? Look at this place... it’s tiny, and yet, I could explore it for centuries. Ah, the wonders of science!
‘Twould be sense that this room is covered in blood, yet it appears as the only room that is clean.
Flawlessly clean.
No single sharp object neglected self-care, as many purred across the room; your arms refrain from touching.
Observing you closely, they dismount the ledges and flee, scurriedly, as you continue your crusade to stake ownership; scenting, as it may.
Oh, what does this do? How do I do it? And who should I do it to?
Giddy, as you are, you have no neglect on intellect.
Someone has been experimenting, and something went terrifically wrong- or was it terrifyingly that is correct?
The arrogance of creation has exchanged rings with the irony of being undone by its own hand.
It was a joke that you found funny the first time- back when it happened.
When others repeat it... it seems- trust me you- that they should be much, much-much worse.
How many souls have you seen wandering into your chambers claiming to have done what was right?
‘In the name of science.’
Had science a name, ‘twould be wrong.
Experiment, play, then say- all you like-
but when it comes down to it,
nothing done is ever in the name of ‘right’.
You did only what you wanted because it was interesting;
because your brain wouldn’t shut up until you did;
because you really wanted to;
but of course, the actual driving force behind it:
because it’s fun;
that’s science.
As you project yourself at various locations across the floor, your mind anchors to a certain point.
It scans whence you began and watches, as each area unfolds with the actions you take.
Still, calm, collected.
It has solved half the mystery on its own, but now... it requires you for an answer. So it asks once again, in small hopes that you respond.
A plain vision, spoken sight:
What? What was made this time?
Not the bunny; a bunny's creation is unpredictable- the amount of suffering required to make one is beyond comprehension.
Then what? What was so tragic that it resulted in the creation of a bunny as a by-product?
Tick-Tock Tick-Tock
Come to me
And we'll be
One big family
Wait! Stop!
What? Why?
He's not an enemy.
He- he’s not?
It's been a while... I've heard... disturbing rumors.
Then let me assure you that they're all true.
Hmm... causing trouble as usual, but this time I won't be there to save you.
That's why I brought my daughter along.
Then the little serpent will perish with his kin.
Always the pessimist, my dear night shepherd.
Tell me... what drives one of the Great Disasters that he would risk his own life and his daughter's?
... it's her.
Are you sure...?
It has to be.
But you don't even remember.
I don't need to.
Another memory. It wonders if you forget.
Now’s not the time...
You whisper to it tenderly, hoping for it to leave in peace- or go, in pieces.
Carrying on, your legs trace a path to the next encounter.
What was tha-
You have collided with someone.
‘Tis someone you know.
Why not say hello?
Greed, Gluttony, Lust, Wrath, Envy, and Pride. One more and bingo; Lucy's dream buffet.
Yours, if you so desire.
Sinful. Full, of sin.
Mayhaps severe enough to grant you... hindsight.
AAAAAAHHH!
A scream.
Not how you want to start this.
AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! Lemego lemego lemego lemego lemego lemego lemego lemego lemego lemego lemego lemego lemego plEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!
Now, now, Pipilla, just a little more and it'll be over.
NO! NO MORE! PLEASE! I'M BEGGING YOU!
Don't you want this, Pipilla? Don't you want to save your friends? All you need to do is survive for just a little bit longer you can save them all.
NO! YOU'RE LYING! YOU'RE NOT HELPING US AT ALL! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!
Just one more and it'll all be over...
I would explain what you saw... but it best you forget that too.
Hel Level Up! Lv.2!
“Tsk, about time.”
Power (Soul) Discovered:
Time Set: Hindsight
Hel is able to assimilate nearby Miasma and extract the memories that created them directly into herself. This is a lengthy and tiring process, typically utilized as a method to judge souls on their past sins but depending on the severity of the Sin and the resulting Miasma created, it is possible to bypass the time needed by using her own magic in expense.
It couldn’t be the child.
The thought makes sense to you.
Why would a bunny exist if the child was remembered?
It has to be someone else.
‘Tis a most difficult take, dealing with a bunny; how do you name what is forgotten? Inquisit with traveling time? Posit the broken records?
I don’t know. How would you name yourself? Names come from somewhere- even concepts.
So every trace, erased from Entirety, as its essence begins to slip out of the fingers of even the loneliest atom...
While you make sense on the situation, the situation makes light of you.
Mockingly, another memory, it sends.
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
Brother, it's been a while.
Ah! They caught you? Too? What a shame! What a shame!
I'm not here as a prisoner. In fact, have a look at what I brought...
Is that? Is that, is that?! It is! A KEY!
How many years has it been?
Too long! Too long! I'm going insane, I tell you! Insane from the boredom!
Heh. Come along, then.
Where are we going? And who's this kid? Who’s the kid?! Are you kidding me?! There’s a kid!
She's my daughter; we'll need her for this next bit. We're also going to need... him.
The goody-goody? Pfft! I'm more than enough! Come on, just the two of us, then! The two of us!
‘Not this time. This time, even the three of us may not be enough...’
The torment gleams, ‘if you wish to find me... why don’t you just join in?’
You brush aside temptation, for what I discern to be the final time... and make your way to a massive cylindrical object shrouded in lack-there of light.
This power...
It’s a seal.
So you recognize it.
No, but the magic within... a signature is known to me.
That is what I meant.
A Creation-Seal. I’ll need hindsight to figure out what process was used, then deconstruct it.
I know.
Almost as if it hears you, it no longer wears a cheeky grin on its face but sends one more wave of nostalgia.
You should not have thought too loudly. Though I suppose I’m to blame for that.
Tick-Tock Tick-Tock
Don't be shy
We just want
To be with you
You won’t last.
Hi... nd... si... ght.
Not long.
MIHNA!
Be quiet. There’s something else here... something I’m missing... it’s been here since my conception- for a long time- hya!
DIE- DIE- DIE- DIE- MIHNA!
Queri. How long will you continue? Isn’t your life destroyed as is?
THAT’S WHY I HAVE TO KILL YOU, MIHNA!
And then what? Pick up the pieces, and put them back together. I need to think.
YOU KILLED HER, YOU KILLED THE ONLY PERSON THAT MATTERED TO ME-
It’s not about you right now! It’s about me- it’s about...
MIHNA!!! DIE!!!
Stop! Someone- something’s behind all of this, can’t you see-!?
This entire place- the whole town- has been sealed. It’s not really here, is it? Only I can see it.
So can I.
But what do I do? How-? Ah. I can’t... not anymore, can I?
No, you cannot.
It’s over.
It is over.
What will I do...? Will I die?
We will survive.
How...?
Never give up.
Never... those two... fighting...
Save them.
They’re sealed... if I can break it...
Your soul.
I don’t have any energy left.
There’s enough.
You wouldn’t lie to me...
Of course not.
Tick-Tock Tick-Tock
No... no... not when...
I am so close...
Passengers?
Five.
Five?
Five.
Enjoy the scenery...
...
Welcome, to- oh! It's you two! And a third! You all died and decided to come here?! Aww! Is it because of me!? That's so sweet! Hey, I know! You can share with my great-grandki-!
We're not dead, you moron. At least... not yet.
Ooh! Ominous! I like it! What can I do for you guys?!
He thinks he found 'The End of Creation'! Can you believe it? I thought I was insane! Me! ME!
Wait, like 'The End' the end?! Like, we're all going to die!? Do I pack a jacket for this??
Pah! Idiot! Idiot! It's just a bunch of kids’ stories the higher-ups tell us so we behave!
Have you learned nothing during your time in imprisonment? You monkey.
Wait! I've got to tell my boss! No! I've got to tell dad! Ah! I've gotta tell everyone!
Calm down. We can't tell anyone.
What?! Why not??
Are you stupid? What do you think will happen if we got everyone riled up right now?!
That's why this is the perfect opportunity to unite! Us! Together! As one!
Hah! The Prime wouldn't care about some unknown ‘end of all creation’ entity. If anything they'd find a way to use it to their own advantage and we’d be done.
Then we need to stop it! Before they find out!
Why do you think we’re here?
Oh... there’s more!
Come on, you idiot. Time to spread your wings.
This has to work...
It needs to...
Because I can't resist anymore.
Because I don't have the time to look for a different answer.
It's this or nothing.
If breaking the seal doesn't work...
Then it's all over.
I'll be dead.
Just...
a little...
bit...
and I’ll be...
That’s right. That was all that was needed. Remember now? One last hindsight. What happened after that?
Tick… Tock…
Tick… Tock…
Look at you... so determined...
It is alright, dear body of mine.
I will protect you.
As I have done before...
As I will continue to do so...
Countless times.
Welcome, to Hel.
-----------------------
Author's Note:
Hey~! If you liked it, check out the rest of the story for free on cieleporia.itch.io/mystory to enjoy the full experience with proper formatting, as well as more chapters in the series!
The one you've just read is called Issue #15 Lost - The Path That Should Have Never Been Taken, which is followed up by Issue #16 Fear - The Word That Should Have Never Been Spoken!
The story has three parts; Issues #1-#13 on introduction, Issues #8.1-#8.12 on development, and now, we've entered into our first big arc in Issues #14+!
I've designed it so you can begin at whichever part you like, so you can start reading the serious arc now!
