PROMPT: "Paranoia’s simply a word for seeing things as they are." –Momus It was blinding. His parents told him this would be painless; that if he had the Knowledge, he would awaken, and they would help him find his circle. It would feel like waking up with clearer vision, and an even clearer mind. But everything was too bright, and too terrifying all at once. The boy’s eyes flashed around the room to his mother, his father, and finally his sister, Shatki. It was like seeing three monsters wearing his family’s skins. “Chetan?” his monster-mother called gently, stepping forward. Chetan scrambled back, afraid. There looked like there was a hole in her chest–in all of their chests. A white, glowing orb, dripping in black tar, and he knew, though he could not say how, that the tar was evil, manifested. Get back! he opened his mouth to say, but the words would not come. “Chetan, breathe, okay?” monster-Shatki murmured, guiding their mother-monster a few steps back. Their monster-father only watched on, a hand over his mouth and eyes grave and sad. Chetan’s chest felt tight. “Can you tell me what you see? What is it you are afraid of?” monster-Shatki pressed. Ever since he was a child, Chetan had a sense for people. He could tell if a person was a good person or a bad one. He just…knew. Shatki always told him he had a gift for intuition; that she would always trust his judgement because he had never been wrong. When he sensed a person was bad, he avoided them at any and all costs. A wall went up, and he would go quiet, and he would hope and wait for the person to leave so he knew he was safe again. His mother chastised him for being paranoid. His father said he wondered if Chetan was alright in the head, though only when they thought he couldn’t hear. Shatki understood him. A special sense for each other through their twin connection. Their souls were connected, she would say, smile warm and eyes like chocolate melted in the sun. But this was not his Shatki. This was monster-Shatki, and while the white orb in her chest was brighter and whiter than of his monster-parents, there were still ink-spills of black. Seeing that sticky blackness smothering the light gave him that same sense of dread he got around bad people–paranoia, like his mother called it–only it was tenfold, choking the air out of his lungs and killing his in his throat. “Chetan,” monster-Shatki murmured, kneeling down and carefully laying out twelve books, the covers worn, and the leather in the corners curling up with age. “We can help you if we know what circle you are, okay? I won’t come any closer, and you do not have to speak. Can you point to the book whose cover you can read?” she prompted. Trembling all over, watching his monster-sister to make sure she didn’t come closer, he eventually turned his gaze to the book covers, eyes scanning over the runes on the front of each, one by one. Each was as unintelligible than the last. Maybe he was broken? Maybe he was unlocked wrong, and his brain was too weak to handle the strain. Shatki had done well when their mother unlocked her. She woke up, looking normal. She looked over the books and grinned when she found she could read one of the covers. Circle of Body, their parents said. Shatki had always helped him when he was hurt, and she tried to save every life–big and small. Body seemed appropriate. But why had he gone so wrong? Chetan’s eyes skittered to the last book and stopped. He thought his heart might do the same. Soul, the cover read. The Circle of Soul. Those orbs…they were… “Soul?” monster-Shatki asked, noticing Chetan’s body language change. Though she couldn’t read the rune, she knew where it fell in the order. “Is there something that you’re seeing? Is that what is scaring you?” It was not paranoia like his mother said. He wasn’t crazy, as his father implied. He was sensing people’s souls. And now his sense was stronger than ever, and his eyes burned with tears. Even the people he thought were good–his mother, his father…Shatki–none of them were. There was evil in their souls. And if his sweet Shatki had evil, everyone had evil. Nowhere was safe. Chetan hugged his knees to his chest, pressing his knees to his eyes to try and push away the images burned into his mind. In that moment, he knew he would never be safe. His voice was lost in his throat, and he didn’t think he’d ever get it back. In that moment, Chetan knew he would never say another word.
0 Comments
|
Madsthey/them Archives
July 2018
Categories
All
|