Shattered Planes Archives (Seasons 4 & 5)
Uncharted Space => Other => Topic started by: UnStellar on January 30, 2013, 07:36:58 PM
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Where... Where am I?... Images danced through his head, visions seen through the eyes of his other forms. They danced across his brain furiously, the screams from Temar... The rage of Hermitage... The death... Oh... Everywhere there was death!
So much of it. Misery felt tears spilling down his tough skin. His body shook, wracked by grief.
Why. Why did his existence bring SO. MUCH. PAIN?!
He sobbed. Misery was the only one of Revenge's three forms to feel remorse. He was the most humane... And he pondered deeply. Why was his very existance emptiness? Why did he leave everyone emptier then they started? Why couldn't he feel purpose? Misery was an Embodiment, a God. But he started wishing that HE had someone to pray to.
Oh... What a wretched thing am I... He cried out, desperately. More death, this time on Tefillin. it stung his spirit like bullets.
I just want a reason! He begged, calling out for something. Anything.
Nothing replied. Nothing ever replied.
So he folded into the fetal position, ready to release all his pain in the form of tears. After a few minutes, something whispered to him. But it may as well have been a shout. Something had heard him. Something had replied!
no remorse
It whispered, like a hissing snake. He stopped crying for a second, but then his heart sunk once more. It was just Hate's voice, the other part of himself...
No remorse....
It said again. And Misery began to feel anger.
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN! He shouted, begging for an answer.
No. Re. Morse. Hate said again. Misery pounded his fists in the ground out of frustration.
Please... I need answers... He begged.
Answer. Was all he heard in reply.
Misery pounded the ground once more, and loosed his words like stones, forming an avalanche to crush his other self.
WE ARE THE SAAAAAME. THREE. YET ONE. WHY. DO YOU TORTURE ME? YOU. ARE JUST. AS MISRABLE. AS ME!
And you are just as hateful...
I HATE THIS EMPTINESS. WHY DOES EVERYTHING WE DO HURT EVERYONE. WHY DO WE DESTROY SO MUCH. WHY DO WE EXIST. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY?! He scream echoed across the empty landscape.
No remorse. Hate replied. Just as he set his fists to strike his other form, it hit him harder then his fists ever could. Misery was a split of Revenge, retaining only certain parts of him. These parts weren't destroyed, just separate. What if he could separate his conscience? What if he could make a fourth element? Then, all that pain would be in that embodiment. No more hurt. No more conscience. No more feeling in the pit of his stomach that he would be empty forever... Yes. No remorse.
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Misery's eyes snapped open. It was a dream, but he jumped out of his bed. He was right. Maybe he could split off another part of himself. Maybe he could be rid of all these terrible feelings. He sat down, and thought about the consequences of this action. What if the new element was rogue? What if it made him weaker? What if Hate and Blame didn't approve?
...But then he realized that none of that mattered anymore. He NEEDED to be rid of this nagging tumor in the corner of his mind, this itch inside of him that he couldn't touch. Misery threw himself to the ground, and tried to split himself. He focused, in exactly the same way he would split from his other two forms. He clenched his eyes shut and screamed with the effort. He paused and tried again. It sort of felt like pulling yourself apart, or like picking off a scab inside of you. Except what he was doing now wasn't like scabs, it was like trying to pull off his own skin. No matter how hard he yanked, his self-preservationist brain held him back from doing. He screamed in agony and stopped pulling.
"DAMMIT!" He yelled. He couldn't do it. His rage kindled again, as he played those words over in his mind. Can't do it. You can't do it. Can't do it. Can't. can't. can't.
It felt like that was all he was. one. big. can't. Well his other forms could destroy worlds if he saw fit, Misery couldn't do any of that. Something always held him back. Like now. A part of his brain wouldn't let him go 100%. Can't. Can't. Those words stung at his spirit like daggers, throwing gasoline on the raging fire of his enraged spirit.
The shooting flame spewed like lava, and he screamed louder, trying once more. He imagined himself grabbing a hold of his fragmented spirit and pulling... It stretched... Agony overtook him... And the word can't flashed through his mind. He nearly let go... But the word turned to flames.
"I. CAN." He stated simply, through gritted teeth. And all his strength was applied.
He split his spirit. The pain poured out like a breaking dam, and shot all over his body. He felt himself being pulled in two, physically, mentally, spiritually... And just like that, the pain subsided. He found himself on all fours, panting from the effort. He looked up, and noticed a pair of legs. He glance went further up, and before him, naked as he had just been born, was another part of himself. Pure white, unblemished without scars, was another form of Revenge. It was smaller then the rest, with short tusks. He looked at Misery knowingly.
"What's my name?" He asked with a gentle voice. Misery paused, catching his breath. He remembered Hate's words.
"Remorse." Misery said simply, and the newly dubbed being nodded.
"It... Fits." He said quietly. The two stared at each other in awe, but Remorse stopped it short dramatically.
"Well... I guess I know what I need to do." He snapped his fingers and his robes appeared on him, and he disappeared.
Misery found he didn't care where he was going. He sat back on his bed. He felt numb... But in a comfortable way. The pain was no longer eating at him. He was free.