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patchwork-crow-writes · 3 months

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The Definition of Insanity

You snap wires.

Frantic fingers spindle across the inky blackness, taking hold of taut strings the colour of poison. You retch slightly as they pull apart in your hands, bursting like blood vessels and staining everything they touch with the stench of death.

You snap wires.

And all the while, his voice bores into your skull, wheeling and dealing even as he tries to kill you. Even as you try your very hardest to give him what he wants.

You snap wires.

SOUL burning hot like a phoenix in its final moments, shooting down offer after offer, pleading with this jittering, broken creature to stop, stop, please stop before one of us does something we're both going to regret...

You snap wires.

You can't remember how long you've been doing this for. You don't even know what you're doing, why you ever listened to his words in the first place. What had he promised in the space between his outbursts... and to whom?

And still, you snap wires. It's either that or die.

So you snap, and you snap, and you snap, and you

snap

Then there's only one left, shimmering in the darklight, so gossamer-thin that you cannot comprehend how it can still support the clanking, man-shaped junk it's attached to. He spins around it like a demented ballerina, professing heartfelt thanks to the friends he was trying to murder mere seconds before. Pleading with you to cut the final cord, to make him a real boy.

Your fingers move before you can respond. And the sound of his cold, lifeless body slamming into the ground stays with you for the rest of your life. The shock is so great that you almost collapse yourself, adrenaline finally loosing its death-grip on your body.

You are wracked with a great and terrible sigh, before you--/

/--snap wires.

...strings the colour of poison... bursting like blood vessels... stench of death.

...you've been here before, you realise, as you snap wires.

He wheels and deals, firing everything he has at you in a vain attempt to get you to give him what he wants. You would if you could... if it had ever been in your power to do so.

All you can do now is snap wires. And that is all you do.

Your fingers move on their own, as if compelled by an outside force. Pinch and twist, reminding you of shelling peas with your mom before Sunday dinner.

You can't recall the last time you saw her. You think that perhaps you should apologise to her if you ever make it out of here alive. You were always such a wilful child. Always getting into trouble of some kind or another.

And now here you were, making deals with something you couldn't even begin to fathom.

You cannot hear your friends anymore - they do not respond to you calls. And the salesman seems to become all-encompassing before you, drunk on ill-gotten power - power you helped him acquire. You close your eyes as he makes you an offer that you are unable to refuse.

Pain washes over you, and you--/

/--snap wires.

Poison... Blood... Death... this could be the fifth time; it could be the five-hundredth time. It doesn't matter, because all you can do is snap wires.

The salesman screams at you, and your SOUL screams back, roaring with anger and pain and frustration. Does it want the same thing as you do? Is it... trying to help? Or... or is this just a game to it. Fighting the same battle again and again, trying for a high score?

You ponder this as it makes you snap wires.

Perhaps this was punishment for trying too hard. For trying to help somebody who seemed to be suffering. You never understood what your mother meant when she told you the road to hell was paved with good intentions. To your child's mind, not yet versed in the world's wicked ways, this statement was a nonsense, an affront.

But now you get it, as you snap wires. Oh God, do you understand.

You always knew he was the same as you. Something BIG had seized his heart, just as it has seized yours. Prisoners of a destiny that was not theirs. You saw a caged bird crying for release, but you did not see the venomous spider using its corpse as a suit. In trying to make him more like you, you exposed yourself to the risk of becoming more like him.

Damaged. Deranged. Desperate. Dangerous.

And as your fingers become snared in his wires, and you stare transfixed into each other's eyes, you see the fate set out before you, and scream.

______________________________________________________________

You snap wires.

Sometimes, you live.

Sometimes, you die.

It doesn't matter.

You snap wires.

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awakenedsalamander · 7 months

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Thinking about how vampirism in the World of Darkness isn’t just dehumanizing in the sense that it makes you a literal monster but also how the Embrace quite directly rips away some of the most meaningful parts of someone’s identity to make room for the Beast.

Like, the obvious examples here are Garou and mages, given that the former, when Embraced, become the aptly-named Abominations, who lose their connection to Gaia and the Umbra and find themselves forcibly aligned with the Wyrm, the force that they view as the most horrific and destructive thing in the world; and the latter have their Avatar, their connection to magic and possibility and understanding, utterly annihilated— their one guiding light extinguished and replace with an entity that is (except for probably in the case of widderslainte) more vicious and cruel than even the most harrowing Avatar.

It’s telling that the Embrace is thus reflective of something each group considers to be one of the worst fates imaginable: dancing the Black Spiral and undergoing Gilgul, respectively.

But that’s a lot of jargon and doesn’t really hit if you don’t know the details of those game lines— the haunting part is that the basic idea remains the same even for mortals.

I mean, it’s true that everyone, mortal or otherwise, has some degree of intrusive urges toward malicious behavior, but the Beast is just so much worse than that. To be Embraced is to straightforwardly die, to lose the essence that keeps you alive, and have it brought back in this twisted form— from now on, to live is to kill and the Beast will never let you forget it.

Sure, vampires still retain their old interests and passions. I’m personally not keen on the interpretation of Kindred as inherently not having things like empathy, creativity, or grief. I think they still feel compassion and curiosity and tranquility and love and all that… but always, lurking behind them, is the Beast.

And maybe I’m just being a self-serious edge-boi but that’s such an unnerving thought. To still care about the people around you, but never without something whispering about how much you need— deserve— their loyalty, their service, their deaths.

#wod #world of darkness #mage the ascension #werewolf the apocalypse #vampire the masquerade #vtm #cw existential horror #I guess existential horror anyway #I don’t know what else you call it #a really bad time

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horygory · 29 days

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The ABC's of Death 2 (2014) - D is for Deloused by Robert Morgan

#robert morgan #horror aesthetic #stop motion #macabre #stop motion animation #nightmare #claymation #horror #horror gif #horror movies #horror short #grotesque #dark #cw body horror #cw blood #existential terror #visceral

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blinkpen · 3 months

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waking up in a cabin deep in a remote pine forest as the sun is going down. or coming up? you can't tell yet. suppose that's less important when you remember this world has no pine forests, or a sun to rise and set.

instead, this world has no sky at all. instead, this world has stale air and monsters. instead, this world has a man you've only heard rumors of. suppose the rumors are true, and that man has a cabin. and that cabin doesn't smell quite right.

but when has anything ever smelled right down here

#mog art #artists on tumblr #surreal horror #ferrumites redux #blood cw #in universe this dude's psychic powers are so OP just -glancing- him can cause existential breakdowns in people #not bc he did anything but bc his ability to totally rewrite your perception of reality both retroactively and permanently is Infamous #few other espers are powerful enough to break/overwrite this' dude's Effects If They Can Event Detect They're Present #to even learn he exists and is not a boogeyman legend is enough to make some people go nuts wondering if they've always had 5 fingers #so just a reminder he is Out There and Could do that to you (or maybe already has and you wouldn't know) rattles Most Individuals #unreality cw #given the descriptions i just rambled in sorry

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patricktsao · 6 months

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“I’m Not Ready”

New work.

On my existential relationship with death, and aging.

Not finished. But finished enough to show. Coming to galleries soon.

Working on this was and is painful. Thank you for viewing.

#paintings #digital art #existentialism #dark art #macabre art #horror art #horror aesthetic #cw: gore #gore lover #emotional art #death art #aging #i’m not ready #to dissolve #to vanish #it is such sorrow

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horror-aesthete · 11 months

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Severance, 2022, dir. Ben Stiller

S01E08 What's for Dinner?

#Severance #existential horror #workplace horror #surreal horror #food cw #horror aesthetic #horror tv

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reaja · 3 months

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Oh wow! Affordable meals? Let's check out the local low-mid tier teriyaki place.

An affordable meal for one for the low low price of $32.45 cool cool cool cool cool cool cool

#american dystopia #end stage capitalism #uber eats #i feel like i should cw this for like existential horror #this place cost a third of this when i got my first apartment across the street during the quote unquote great recession #anyway kill me :)#edit: sorry i messed up my math it was less than a quarter of this back then

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mawofthemagnetar · 2 years

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Written in the Diorite

WARNING: Implied/referenced character death, a possibly-incorrect depiction of exposure therapy, implied violence, unreality, existential crisis, and psychological horror.

Doc had prescribed it, you see.

It was called “exposure therapy” and it apparently helped with...well, that was where Doc had lost him a bit. Iskall had looked it up and exposure therapy wasn’t really used for “soul-deep hatred”- it was more meant for overcoming fears or anxieties.

But hey, if it helped, it helped.

He shouldered his rucksack, shrugging a bit as he walked up the hill towards Bdubs’ monolith. One night in a diorite tower, Doc had said. Exposing him to the thing he hated would hopefully lessen his hate of it. Sounded good in theory, but then, so did a lot of things.

Iskall shrugged and walked towards the tower.

Bdubs was waiting at the door with a slightly…pinched…smile on his face.

“You got everything? You okay?” Bdubs said nervously. He started tweaking his forefinger with his other hand, wrapping it up and bending it back and forth- a classic Bdubs stress tell. “If you don’t wanna do this, I mean-“

“No, I think- Doc’s right. This has gone on long enough. I need to do this for myself.” Iskall said firmly.

Then he looked up at the monolith and his guts lurched.

The diorite stared down at him, accusingly. White and ugly and awful, blinding him with its hatefulness. He felt the bile rise up in his throat, the desire to just reach into his ender chest and extract some TNT and wipe this hideous mistake off the-

No. No. Calm down, Iskall. Calm down.

Doc…had a point.

Iskall took a deep breath.

“I got my overnight bag, so I’ll be fine. I even brought my own bed. Make sure my carrots get watered, okay?” He said, and Bdubs nodded.

“Yeah, sure. Just…think of it like a little mini base swap!” he said brightly, still jerking his forefinger around. It was starting to look a bit painful.

“Yeah, exactly!” Iskall said brightly, “I…I have to do this. For myself. And if it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t work. You’ll see.” He said with a smile, stepping up the stairs.

“Just don’t, uh…don’t…blow the place up.” Bdubs said nervously, “Please. I worked hard on that.”

Iskall chuckled, and threw his last ender chest at Bdubs’ head.

“Here. There you go, bro. Now I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Bdubs’ shoulders fell in relief.

“Alright. Have fun! Maybe you’ll learn to like diorite!” he said brightly.

Iskall nodded and slammed the door behind himself.

He put his pack down on the floor.

And he blacked out.

~*~*~*~*~

Eight hours of absolute silence followed. Bdubs was starting to get worried. Rather than staying at Iskall’s starter base, he whipped together a humble little tent on a hill overlooking his monolith. A humble little tent with a spiral staircase and a bath big enough for three, but humble enough for his purposes.

Also moss instead of wool because he ran out of wool but the point was it was a humble tent and he was staying in it.

The dawn broke, and Bdubs crawled out of his tent in his (Moss) bathrobe, toothbrush in one hand and eyes on the horizon.

His monolith was still there. Thank god.

He shakily opened his console and typed out a message.

<BdoubleO100> Iskall? You good?

<Iskall85> yeah I’m good. great actually. Had a good sleep!

Bdubs smiled. Okay, awesome. Maybe Doc was right! Exposure therapy was good. Maybe next he could build a little something out of birch and prismarine to help Keralis get over his own issues?

He brushed his teeth in the ensuite he’d built (every humble tent needed an ensuite), got dressed, and skipped up the hill to his monolith. Everything looked fine on the outside. Lulu was happily snorting and snuffling at the grass, the flowers were happily swaying in his garden, and oh yeah, his house was still perfectly intact.

Bdubs raced up the steps and burst in through the front door without bothering to knock. It was his own damn house, he had nothing to-

…to…

“Hallo, Bdubs!” Iskall said brightly, looking chipper and hearty and none the worse for wear, “Sleep well last night?”

“…Y…yeah…” Bdubs said, his eyes going wide as he scanned over the walls.

“Great! I’ll be honest, I don’t remember a lot about last night, but I feel pretty good! Honestly, I think Doc’s right- this exposure therapy thing really works. I mean, sort of. I’m even thinking, maybe- maybe I’ll use some diorite myself in one of my builds!” Iskall was heading for the door, cheerfully oblivious to Bdubs’ panic.

“M- maybe- maybe-“ Bdubs stammered, and Iskall nodded.

“Yeah! Maybe I will! Anyway, thank you so much. I did my best to tidy up. See you!”

And with that, he slammed the door.

And left Bdubs alone in his monolith.

Staring at the walls.

BDOUBLEO100 was scrawled on the nearest one in Iskall’s hand, in some kind of paint or marker or something. A scrawling, sprawling message, twisting all across the diorite, gleaming black pen on stark white stone.

Bdubs’ hands started to shake.

His entire life was scrawled out in the penstrokes, things Iskall couldn’t possibly- his birth, his mother’s sickness after, the time he fell off his dad’s shoulders and split his chin open-

Tumbling off a log, skinning his knee-

School, friendships, first kiss, first date, the first build, his comm-

And then-

bdoubleo lends diorite monolith to iskall

bdoubleo reads summary of his entire life

bdoubleo cries in terror

bdoubleo will run for help, scream

bdoubleo will-

Bdubs’ eyes fell lower. And lower.

Build after build, season after season, and then he- and then-

He dies and respawns and dies and respawns and then at the bottom corner of a wall the words abruptly stop and he reads, he reads, his death, his eventual-

Tears started leaking from his eyes as he spun around, and saw, and saw,

DOCM77 CREATED IN A

MUMBO JUMBO BORN TO

GRIAN HATCHED FROM

KERALIS1 SPAWNED FROM VOID PRIOR TO

XISUMAVOID CLONED FROM-

Bdubs ran out of the monolith, screaming till his lungs were raw.

#Hermitfic #Iskall fic #Bdubs fic #Magnetar writes #cw unreality #cw existential crisis #cw psychological horror #cw death mention #cw horror #I couldn't restrain myself after that episode #i didn't do much research into exposure therapy so i'm sorry if it's extremely wrong #it probably is #i just had to write you know #enjoy

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corvidoodle · 1 year

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Old Cornball Sketches

The sweater ones are based on a cosplay of him i made in animal crossing. The fudge thing is a joke bc someone named Fudge said they loved him. toyhouse

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killercmd · 5 months

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@deadcmd sent a broadcast: v's feelings on the gala massacre. let's go. it counts as a canon scene!!! post → title: ❝ out in the open, no one to save me ❞ → answered inbox meme (send a canon scene for my muse's feelings on it - accepting) content warning: graphic descriptions of organic gore, violence, body horror / mutilation, the ever-oppressive fear of your existence making you a puppet to one's demands regardless of how volatile

What have I done? It's the only thought that goes through your head as a loud ringing sounds in your auditory sensors and you stare down at viscous red dripping from disgusting, fleshy limbs in the shape of claws. Your chest shudders as it expands and contracts unstably, hysterical giggling breaking up what would otherwise sound like sobbing. There's so much blood... so, so much blood...

You can only remember so much leading up to this moment. Cyn was most prevalent. You recall crawling from the basement, unnatural limbs something you weren't consciously used to navigating with yet they moved as though they'd always been part of you; grotesque flesh makes up a hand and thin fingers that end in sharp points. Equally fleshy, tattered wings expanded from your back; you had a long tail with a pustule sack beneath the glowing eye wrapped within, something of a blade creating a deadly tip to it.

You had made your way up onto the ceiling of the ballroom, and as the lights suddenly went out, an X appeared upon your visor, your HUID becoming mixes of orange and yellow. An unnaturally wide smile parted your maw, baring sharp teeth and allowing saliva to drip down onto the man beneath you. All you feel is an endless, bottomless hunger burning in your stomach. You need to eat. You're so, so hungry.

As you focused on one of the many humans now trapped in the ballroom, you noted a crosshair hovering over them. [ TARGET LOCKED ]. In a flurry of yellow glow and flesh and blood, you launched from your perch onto the back of the confused target. A scream registers in your processors, but you ignore it, giggling as you sink your claws through thin fabric and pliable flesh to get to the BLOOD inside.

You are organic. You need blood, their blood. You need it to grow stronger, to become healthier. They don't need it. They've done nothing but waste their lives away while making yours a living Hell. It was only fair you finally reap what they sowed, wasn't it? Razor-sharp fangs make quick work on the soft flesh that you expose, ripping and tearing it from bone to draw that lifeforce to the surface.

One human wasn't enough. It's not enough. Never going to be enough. You launch yourself at another, draining them just as ruthlessly, before continuing to move along in a rinse-and-repeat cycle. Screaming, sobbing, all of it goes through your processors without acknowledgement. All of the warnings blaring in your visor are ignored in favour of a deep-rooted need for survival that continues to push you forward in your homicidal rampage.

Starved wolves would attack cattle. This was no different; humans were designed to be consumed. Their flesh, their blood, their guts. [ ALL OF IT WAS DESIGNED TO BE CONSUMED AND DESTROYED ]. You only stop eating once you no longer feel the hunger gnawing at your stomach, or the haze of s̶o̶m̵e̵t̷h̷i̸n̵g̵ ̴e̴l̶s̶e̶ controlling you.

Your eyes blip back to white pupils, smile fading into a horrified expression. You feel your stomach twist and you vomit a disgustingly viscous mix of blood, viscera, and oil. You sob, wail, scream. The scene in front of you makes you want to throw up again; gored bodies litter the ballroom, sprays of blood and organs painting the formerly pristine wooden walls a thick, disgusting red. Your servos are shaking. You want this nightmare to be over. Please please let it be over.

Where was N?

You just want to be with your friends...

When you look up, your gaze meets one remaining pair of equally white eyes.

Tessa.

You reach for her, only to recoil away from yourself when your sights set on the knives your fingers had been contorted into. No, no no no no. What have you done? Scrambling into a corner, you tuck yourself away into the darkness, using those tattered organic wings much like a veil to hide your shaking frame from sight.

The only indication you were still in the room was the very faint sound of muffled sobbing.

You're a monster.

. . .

You just want to end this dream.

#⨂ IC. ❝ YOU'LL NEVER GET FREE; LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER ❞#⨂ ANSWERED ASK. ❝ WHATCHA GON' DO WHEN THERE'S BLOOD IN THE WATER? ❞#deadcmd #organic gore cw #violence cw #body horror cw #body mutilation cw #existential dread cw #depersonalization cw #ask to tag

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spamsandsuch · 2 years

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We can be free together (A Spamton and Jevil fanfic script)

Title: We can be free together

Words: 2902

Warnings: Implied/referenced depression, existential dread, implied/referenced character death, implied body horror (described but not explicit), implied unhealthy and abusive relationships, implied manipulation

Synopsis: In an alternate timeline, Spamton discovers how much of a puppet he really is a little too early. Spamton falls into a deep depression as a result, though soon finds comfort and even remorse from the last person they expected.

(note: although this is an alternate timeline, this fic still contains my headcanons towards Spamton and Jevil’s origins. Also, keep in mind this fic is very rough and if i forgot any warnings/tags please let me know!!)

Enter Spamton’s room at Queen’s mansion, which is completely dark. Spamton can be seen lying on the floor in the corner of the room, his body curled and facing away from the doorway. Spamton clutches its phone from the rotary dial, which also sits beside them. The faint sound of static can be heard, whether it’s coming from the telephone or Spamton himself is unclear. Suddenly, the door swings open, filling part of the room with light save for the silhouette standing at the center of the doorway–Jevil. Spamton barely reacts, though that doesn’t stop it from knowing exactly who it is.

Jevil: HEY SPAM, SPAM! I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU LATELY!

Spamton doesn’t respond. Jevil comes closer, not bothering to close the door behind them.

Jevil: HEY, I’M TALKING TO YOU! DON’T YOU KNOW IT’S RUDE TO IGNORE A FRIEND, FRIEND?

Spamton scoffs, though it’s barely audible.

Spamton, mumbling: We’re hardly friends.

Jevil, perking up: OH, OH! THAT GOT A REACTION OUTTA YOU! I KNEW I COULD GET THROUGH TO YOU!

Spamton doesn’t respond.

Jevil: HELLO? I’M BREAKING AND ENTERING, AREN’T I? AREN’T YOU GOING TO YELL AND KICK ME OUT? GET SO ANGRY YOUR HEAD LOOKS LIKE IT’S ON FIRE, FIRE?

Spamton doesn’t respond. Jevil frowns.

Jevil: WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU, YOU? YOU’RE NOT ACTING LIKE YOURSELF! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO GET ANGRY AT ME! CHASE ME DOWN YOUR MAJESTY’S ROYAL HALLS AND SHOUT OBSCENITIES! DO SOMETHING!

Spamton doesn’t respond, though it instead curls further into itself. Jevil notices, though decides not to comment on it.

Jevil, turning around: WELLLLL I GUESS SINCE YOU DON’T CARE I’LL BE LEAVING, LEAVING! I SURE HOPE NO ONE STOPS ME AS I TRASH THE HALLS, DISRESPECT THE POTTERY, AND LEAVE THE MANSION IN ABSOLUTE CHAOS CHAOS!

Jevil walks to the doorway, though gives Spamton a brief glance.

Jevil: SURELY THIS WOULDN’T RUIN THE REPUTATION OF CYBER CITY’S NUMBER ONE RATED SALESMAN, MAN!

Spamton grip tightens around the phone, seemingly annoyed. Spamton mumbles something, perking the interest of the jester.

Jevil, hopping towards Spamton: WHAT’S THAT, THAT? I COULDN’T HEAR YOU!

Spamton grumbles and repeats what they said, but Jevil ignores it.

Jevil, putting their hand behind his own ear: HELLO? RING RING? I CAN’T HEAR YOU. YOU’LL HAVE TO SPEAK UP!

Spamton growls, and to Jevil’s surprise, swings his arm to hit Jevil’s face with the rotary phone. However, the gesture is weak at best, and Jevil dodges easily to the side. Spamton now partially faces Jevil, and though the darkness partially obscures its face Jevil can see the dim starlights known as the salesman’s eyes. The windows to their soul.

Spamton, growling: I said LEAVE ME ALONE YOU [[damned]] CLOWN.

Jevil: OH, THAT’S MORE LIKE IT! I KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU! NOW GET UP, UP! AND KICK ME OUT, OUT!!

Spamton gives Jevil a fiery look, their eyelights burning with agitation. However, they shortly dim as Spamton’s demeanor seems to sag. Jevil notices, and takes note that the salesman seems almost…apathetic. Depressed, even.

Spamton, sighing quietly: What’s the point…?

Jevil, turning his head slightly: WHAT? THE POINT, POINT?

Jevil laughs loudly, though it’s stiff compared to their normally silly laughter. Spamton doesn’t notice.

Jevil, waving his arms: THERE IS NO POINT! WE CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT, YOU AND I. IN THIS GAME. THE CONSEQUENCES MEAN NOTHING! WE CAN DO ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING AND NOTHING AT THE SAME TIME. WE ARE BOTH FREE, FREE!

Spamton, narrowing his eyes: MAYBE YOU CAN.

Jevil, laughing: YES, BUT THAT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE STUBBORN, STUBBORN!! YOU’RE SCARED TO LET LOOSE–TO CAUSE CHAOS, CHAOS! YOU THINK THAT BECAUSE YOU’RE SOME SORT OF ‘ANGEL’ YOU NEED TO BE PURE, PURE! WHEN IN REALITY YOUR PRECIOUS FELLOW LIGHTENER YOU CALL GOD FILLS YOUR HEAD WITH NOTHING BUT LIES.

Jevil kneels down, slightly towering over Spamton. He gives a sympathetic look towards the salesman.

Jevil: IT’S ALMOST SAD, REALLY. YOU HAVE ALL THIS NEWFOUND FREEDOM AT YOUR FINGERTIPS AND YET YOU DENY ITS EXISTENCE. YOU SEEK FOR GREATER THINGS YOU CANNOT ACHIEVE WHILE AT THE SAME TIME FEEL TRAPPED, TRAPPED. EVEN THEN, YOU DENY THAT YOU ARE TRAPPED–BUT DEEP DOWN, YOU KNOW YOU’RE NOTHING MORE THAN A DAMN PUPPET!

Jevil cackles at this, but it feels forced. Spamton isn’t amused, and had it not been for its perpetual smile his mouth would’ve been a thin line.

Spamton: You’re right.

Jevil, pausing: …WHAT?

Spamton, looking away: I’m… I’M NOTHING MORE THAN A [[PUPPET ON STRINGS]].

Jevil is speechless, and looks at the salesman with a shocked expression. Spamton is annoyed by this.

Spamton: WHAT? WHY DO YOU LOOK SO [[Shell-shocked]]? YOU WERE GLOATING ABOUT IT AT MY [[apply directly on the face and eyes]] LESS THAN A [[sec]] AGO.

Jevil, looking away: THIS… THIS ISN’T RIGHT. THIS DOESN’T FEEL RIGHT.

Spamton, confused: OKAY?

Jevil: YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO AGREE WITH ME. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO YELL AT ME. CLAIM YOU’RE NOT A PUPPET AND HOW YOU’LL SURPASS ME. AND THEN I TOY WITH YOU BACK. I THOUGHT–I THOUGHT THAT’S HOW IT’S SUPPOSED TO WORK?

Jevil looks genuinely confused, which unintentionally annoys Spamton even more. Spamton starts to get up, facing Jevil.

Spamton, irritated: THE HELL’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN!? AM I JUST SOME [[toy to play with]] TO YOU TOO???

Jevil, stepping back: NO, I’M–

Spamton stands up, stepping towards Jevil. Through the filtered light, Jevil can see the heavy bags under Spamton’s eyes.

Spamton: WELL [[waddya want from me?!]], HUH?! YOU WANT ME TO [[shoot for the skies]] TOO?? TELL ME HOW SPECIL I AM AND LIE ABOUT HOW NOBODY ELSE BUT ME MATTERS IN THIS [[god-forsaken]] WORLD??????? TELL ME HOW MUCH IM SOOOOO DESTINED FOR GREATNESS WHEN IN REALITY I’M JUST SOME USELESS SLIME!?!??!??!?!?!!??!??!??!?!??!

Spamton slams its fist on the wall, shaking the room slightly. Jevil flinches, and is surprised that he flinched.

Spamton: AND THEN–AND THEN–AND THEN–[[abandon me]]. TELL ME RIGHT TO MY FACE THAT IS WAS [[a fallacy]]. THAT I ABANDONED EVERYBODY FOR NOTHING. THAT I’M–I’M–I’m just a failed experiment… And you can’t deal with the consequences of your own failure.

Spamton looks down, expression unreadable. He continues talking, but at this point Jevil can tell Spamton isn’t talking to them anymore.

Spamton, quietly: I-I–I tried doing everything to make you happy. I pushed out my friends–my [[mama]]–everybody that cared about me. All for you. I did everything you wanted me to do. I even–I even–I even–

Spamton looks at their hands. They’re both shaking, and the salesman can’t bring itself to finish his sentence.

Spamton, scowling: And look where that got me. I even look like a goddamn puppet. Some vessel I am.

Spamton brings its hands down, finally looking at Jevil in the eyes. Spamton looks tired.

Spamton, sighing: So–SO PLEASE. JUST. LEAVE ME ALONE. I DON’T HAVE [[anything to sell for you]].

Spamton sits back down on the ground, side leaning against the wall. Jevil simply stands there, unsure of what to say. After a few minutes, Jevil sits beside Spamton. This confuses spamton, but it doesn’t show it.

Spamton: WHAT. ARE YOU DOING?

Jevil, facing Spamton: JOINING YOU. YOU SEEM RATHER LONELY, LONELY.

Spamton, sneering: [[No shit, sherlock]], THAT’S THE POINT. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?

Jevil, looking away: THE TRUTH IS, EVEN WITH MY OWN FREEDOM–I’M RATHER LONELY IN THIS HELL. YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE THAT UNDERSTANDS ME.

Spamton sneers slightly, but glances towards Jevil slightly.

Jevil, looking back at Spamton: I HADN’T MEANT THAT YOU WERE A TOY TO ME. I WAS EXPECTING YOU TO RETORT BACK AND GLOAT ABOUT YOUR SUCCESS. THAT’S WHO I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE.

Spamton doesn’t respond, but is paying attention to Jevil this time.

Jevil, laughing sadly: BUT–I GUESS EVEN OUR DEAR DADDY CALLER DECEIVED ME, TOO. I UNDERSTAND, NOW, I THINK.

Jevil looks directly at Spamton.

Jevil: YOU AREN’T TRAPPED BECAUSE OF YOUR ARROGANCE–BUT BECAUSE YOU’RE CONVINCED YOU HAVE NOWHERE ELSE TO GO. YOU CAN’T REACH FREEDOM UNLESS YOU BELIEVE YOU HAVE A SOURCE TO OBTAIN IT, IS THAT RIGHT?

Spamton looks away, which answers Jevil’s question.

Spamton: IT’S–IT’S–IT’S SUFFOCATING. I CAN’T. UNDERSTAND. HOW YOU FIND SUCH [[joy]] WITH THIS FREEDOM. I DON’T FEEL [[free, free]] AT ALL. NONE OF MY ACTIONS MATTER. MY EXISTENCE. DOES NOT MATTER.

Jevil: BUT DOESN’T THAT GIVE YOU ALL THE MORE REASON TO DO ANYTHING YOU WANT? NOTHING MATTERS, YOU HAVE NO LIMITATIONS. IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BOTHER YOU IF YOU DON’T LET IT.

Spamton: What’s the use of doing anything you want if even that doesn’t matter?

Jevil doesn’t say anything to that, which somehow depresses Spamton even more. Suddenly, Jevil speaks up.

Jevil: SO YOU’RE JUST GOING TO DO NOTHING WITH YOUR NEWFOUND FREEDOM? YOU’RE GOING TO LET THIS DREAD CONSUME YOU?

Spamton, shrugging slightly: I DON’T KNOW.

The two sit in silence as several minutes pass. The silence is agony for the both of them.

Jevil: I’M SORRY.

Spamton: FOR WHAT?

Jevil: FOR TURNING YOU INTO A PUPPET. HAD I KNOWN YOU’D FEEL THIS WAY I WOULDN’T HAVE DONE THAT.

Spamton, confused: I–WHAT? YOU DIDN’T–MY [[business partner]]–

Jevil: YES, I DID. INDIRECTLY.

Spamton gives Jevil a look, as if asking “how”?

Jevil: …DO YOU REMEMBER MY SIBLING?

Spamton thinks, but shakes their head.

Spamton: MY [[insert memory card here]] HASN’T BEEN [[optimal]] LATELY.

Jevil: YOU MET THEM WHEN MY TOWN’S DENIZENS CAME TO CYBER CITY. WHEN OUR CALLER, CALLER–BROUGHT US THERE.

Spamton: I. REMEMBER THAT NOW. SORT OF.

Jevil: WE DIDN’T STAY FOR VERY LONG, LONG. BECAUSE SOME OF US STARTING TURNING TO STONE. INCLUDING MY SIBLING.

Jevil, looking away: I REMEMBER HOW IT HAPPENED. WE HAD AN ARGUMENT, THOUGH I DON’T REMEMBER WHAT IS WAS ABOUT. I GOT ANGRY AND PUSHED THEM OUT THE WINDOW OF THIS MANSION, BUT AT THE TIME I DIDN’T THINK MUCH OF IT AT THE TIME. WE HAD FIGHTS BEFORE, AND I EXPECTED THEM TO BOUNCE, BOUNCE, BY THE TIME THEY LANDED. I THOUGHT THEY WOULD BE FINE–WITH A SCRATCH AT MOST.

Jevil’s expression becomes pained, which surprises Spamton.

Jevil: BUT THAT–THAT DIDN’T HAPPENED. MY SIBLING TURNED TO STONE MID-WAY, AND BROKE INTO SEVERAL PIECES UPON LANDING.

Suddenly, Spamton’s expression shifts, as if remembering something.

Spamton: I REMEMBER THAT. IT HAPPENED [[right before my eyes]].

Jevil: I REMEMBER SEEING YOU THERE AT THE BOTTOM TOO, TOO. YOU WERE JUST WALKING, WHEN SUDDENLY MY SIBLING BROKE INTO A MILLION PIECES IN FRONT OF YOU.

Spamton, grimacing slightly: IT WAS TERRIFYING. AND [[the crowd]] THOUGH IT WAS ME WHO DID THAT FOR AWHILE BY ASSOCIATION. I HAD. TO WORK HARD. FOR MY POSITIVE IMAGE AGAIN, EVEN WHEN I WAS [[back in the clear]] SHORTLY AFTER.

Jevil, nodding: OUR CALLER BROUGHT US BACK TO OUR TOWN SHORTLY AFTER, TOO. SOME STONE DENIZENS TURNED BACK TO NORMAL AGAIN, BUT EVEN AFTER WE BROUGHT THE PIECES BACK TOGETHER MY SIBLING DID NOT.

Jevil, gripping their fists: I WAS DEVASTATED. I KEPT TELLING MYSELF THAT THEY’LL GET BETTER SOON, BUT I KNEW I WAS LYING, LYING. AND YET, OUR CALLER DIDN’T HELP, BECAUSE HE SAW NOTHING WRONG WITH THEIR CARD.

Jevil: AFTER AWHILE, I WAS LAYING BESIDE THE STONE STRUCTURE THAT WAS ONCE MY SIBLING. I WOULD TELL THEY WERE STILL ALIVE, SOMEHOW–BECAUSE THE STONE WAS ALWAYS WARM TO THE TOUCH. BUT, BUT… THAT TIME, WHEN I TOUCHED IT–THE STONE WAS AS COLD AS ICE.

Jevil: I PANICKED. I TRIED LIFTING MY SIBLING–AND THEN SUDDENLY THEIR STONE BODY CRUMBLED TO DUST, AND BENEATH THAT DUST REVEALED THEIR HEART. EXCEPT, IT WASN’T THEIR HEART–I HAD SEEN THEIR HEART BEFORE, FOR. THEIR HEART WAS A DARK PURPLE, EMANATING WITH PERSONALITY. THIS HEART WAS A DULL BLACK, IT’S DARKNESS DARKER THAN THE NIGHT SKY.

Jevil paused for a moment, as if collecting himself. They continued shortly, though.

Jevil: LIKE YOU, I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF. MY GUILT AND GRIEF WERE SO SUFFOCATING I FELT I COULDN’T DO ANYTHING. AND FOR WHILE I DIDN’T.

Jevil: THAT CHANGED ONE DAY. ONE DAY, WHEN OUR CALLER VISITED MY WORLD–HE TOLD ME A STORY. A LIGHTENER FABLE, ABOUT HUMAN AND MONSTERS.

Hearing this, Spamton’s interest peaks slightly. Jevil continues.

Jevil: HE TOLD ME THAT ACCORDING TO THIS FABLE, A MONSTER’S SOUL COULD ABSORB A HUMAN SOUL TO BECOME POWERFUL. SO POWERFUL THEY COULD DO ANYTHING. BUT THAT WAS A FAKE STORY, OUR CALLER SAID, BECAUSE IN ORDER FOR THAT TO HAPPEN MAGIC WOULD NEED TO EXIST IN THE LIGHTENER WORLD.

Jevil: THAT GOT ME THINKING. WHILE MAGIC DOESN’T EXIST IN THE LIGHTENER WORLD–IT EXISTS HERE, HERE. SO, ONE DAY I WENT INTO MY ROOM AND GRASPED MY SIBLING’S HEART. I NEVER GOT RID OF IT BECAUSE I WAS TOO AFRAID. BUT AS A GRASPED IT, I WONDERED, OUT OF CURIOSITY… WHAT WOULD HAPPEN… IF A DARKENER… ABSORBED ANOTHER DARKENER SOUL?

Jevil: I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO ABSORB IT, SO I ATE IT. I HAD NOTHING ELSE TO LOSE, BEFORE, BUT SOON AFTER MY BODY BEGAN TO CHANGE. BEFORE I WAS SMALL, SMALL, BUT SOON AFTER MY BODY BECAME BIGGER. STRONGER. I HAD BECOME STRONGER, LIKE THE MONSTER IN THE FABLE.

Spamton seems somewhat immersed while Jevil continues.

Jevil: AND WHEN I BECAME STRONGER, I FELT BETTER. LIKE I COULD DO ANYTHING. AND I REALIZED THAT BECAUSE NOTHING MATTERS, I COULD DO ANYTHING, ANYTHING!

Jevil smiles slightly, but it quickly turns back into a frown. Spamton follows suit.

Spamton, apprehensive: WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME [[THIS, THIS]]? YOU HAD AUTONOMY OVER YOUR OWN ACTIONS. THIS HAS NOTHING. TO DO. WITH ME.

Jevil: THAT’S THE THING, THING. I NEVER LIKED LISTENING TO THE CALLER ASIDE FROM SPREADING THE TRUTH ABOUT OUR WORLD, AND HE WAS FRUSTRATED BECAUSE OF THAT. SO FRUSTRATED I’M CERTAIN THEY MADE YOU DO THE SAME THING I DID OUT OF SPITE.

Spamton stills at this, though Jevil is certain he knows exactly what the jester’s talking about.

Jevil: BUT, INSTEAD OF ANOTHER SOUL, HE MADE YOU FUSE WITH THE SHADOW CRYSTAL THAT DIGITAL BIRD WAS GUARDING. THE ONE THAT BELONGED TO THE OTHER LIGHTENER.

Jevil: AND IT WORKED, FOR A LITTLE BIT. I REMEMBER YOU BECAME STRONGER AND WE FOUGHT–BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO SHOW OFF YOUR STRENGTH. TO PROVE HOW STRONGER YOU WERE THAN I WAS.

Jevil, looking away: BUT SOON AFTER THE CRYSTAL REJECTED YOUR BODY–YOUR SOUL. YOUR SMILE TURNED INTO A MASK, AND YOUR BODY COLLAPSED INTO A POOL OF DARKNESS. ALL THAT WAS LEFT WAS YOUR OWN HEART, STILL BRIMMING WITH PERSONALITY UNLIKE MY SIBLING.

Jevil: OUR CALLER THOUGHT HE KILLED YOU, WHICH HE DIDN’T MEAN TO DO. HE TRIED FIXING YOU HIMSELF, AND SET YOUR PROGRAMMING BACK TO BEFORE IT FUSED WITH THE SHADOW CRYSTAL–OR THAT’S WHAT THEY TOLD ME. I DIDN’T UNDERSTAND MUCH OF IT. BUT IT WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE YOU LIKE BEFORE,

Spamton, scowling: YEAH RIGHT. AND LOOK. WHERE THAT GOT ME.

Jevil: YEAH. INSTEAD OF BEFORE, YOUR BODY TOOK THIS PUPPET FORM. OUR CALLER TRIED FIXING YOU AGAIN AND AGAIN, BUT YOU ALWAYS ENDED UP LIKE THIS. YOU WERE UNCONSCIOUS THE WHOLE TIME, BUT WHEN YOU STARTED WAKING UP HE TOLD YOU THAT THIS NEW BODY WAS A VESSEL FOR SOMETHING GREATER. WHAT WAS IT, AGAIN?

Spamton, grimacing: FOR THE [[Neo]] SUIT [[Easels]] HID IN THE BASEMENT. [[Business partner]] SAID HE CHANGED MY BODY SO IT WOULD BE FIT FOR THE NEO SUIT, SINCE THE SHADOW CRYSTAL REJECTED ME.

Jevil: I DON’T THINK THEY COULD HANDLE THE THOUGHT THAT YOU HAD BECOME HIS PUPPET, BOTH LITERALLY AND FIGURATIVELY. THAT MUST’VE BEEN WHY THEY LIED.

Spamton, sneering: YOU DON’T [[have to tell me twice!]]! THAT [[Damn coward]] COULDN’T SAY IT TO MY FACE!

Jevil: BUT THAT’S WHY I'M SORRY. HAD I KNOWN THAT WOULD HAPPEN I WOULDN’T HAVE ABSORBED MY SIBLING’S SOUL IN THE FIRST PLACE.

Spamton: WHY SORRY STILL? YOU DIDN’T. DO ANYTHING?

Jevil: BUT I–

Spamton: IT WAS ME WHO STILL AGREED TO ABSORB THE [[shadow crystal]]. IN TRUTH I WAS ALSO [[jealous]] OF YOU. OF YOUR STRENGTH. I WAS INFURIATED BY YOU AND WANTED. TO SURPASS YOU. AS A RESULT.

Spamton, looking away: HAD IT NOT BEEN FOR MY OWN [[hatred and jealousy]] I WOULDN’T BE LIKE THIS. BUT, IN THE END…

Spamton sighs, and it’s the most depressed Jevil has ever heard it before.

Spamton: I’m still nothing more than a simple puppet.

The two sit in silence for a while, until Jevil speaks up again.

Jevil: BUT EVEN SO, YOU STILL FEEL HOPELESS.

Spamton, shrugging: IT’S WHAT I DESERVE.

Jevil pauses, but then stands up. Spamton looks over at them apathetically.

Jevil: NO. IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE THIS WAY.

Spamton: WHAT DO YOU [[MEAN, MEAN]]?

Jevil gives Spamton a determined look. Spamton doesn’t like it.

Jevil: SPAMTON, LET ME GIVE YOU MY HEART.

Spamton reels back and stands up, shocked.

Spamton: WHAT???????????

Jevil: I ONLY FOUND HOPE WHEN I ABSORBED MY SIBLING’S HEART. I FOUND MY ABILITY TO APPRECIATE MY FREEDOM BY BECOMING STRONGER. I’M SURE THAT IF YOU ABSORB, MINE, YOU WILL TOO, TOO.

Jevil grasps Spamton’s hand, staring directly into his eyelights. The moment is tense, and it feels like time has become still.

Jevil, smiling: WE’LL BOTH BE FREE, TOGETHER, NOT JUST ONE OF US.

Spamton hesitates for a long time.

Spamton: CAN I TRUST YOU?

Jevil: I’M SURE, SURE, MY FRIEND.

Spamton hesitates again, but then grasps Jevil’s hands with its other.

Spamton, firmly: OKAY.

Spamton: TOGETHER, THEN.

#my writing #spamton #spamtonposting #jevil #jevilposting #my headcanons #character death #character death tw #death tw #manipulation #manipulation tw #abuse tw #existential dread #abusive relationships #abusive relationships tw #unhealthy relationships #body horror #body horror cw #depression

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