There are cries among the lost …
Tears among the wicked …
And still, the Corridors of Forever take heed …
Of the dark Souls bound and twisted on the Earth.

 

 Reality came back … like a dream or, more like a terrible nightmare. My vision cleared, after a fashion, and the pounding of my heart was like a wild hammer … the force pushing against the inside of my skull.

It was a fascinating sight … that room. All things aside, the thunder of that headache aside, what came to my awareness was both starkly horrific and blindingly amazing, as if there was some kind of difference.

Feeling came back to me then, as I looked around at the glistening rivers of red that clung to the stupidly off white walls. I looked down … astonished at the crimson gloves that tightened over my hands.

The blade, I noticed, was very long. The film of death still clung to the once shiny surface and the handle was sticky in my palm.

“Do you see this thing that you have done?” the voice is close and almost musical. The soft thread of sadness is woven in to the simple words. I am struck by all blood as it darkens in streaks and pools. Everywhere.

“What?  This?  I have done?” my own voice is tired and stupid. The sound of broken laughter fills my mind and I can hear the slow breathing of a monster; it is a ragged and rough sound that makes my skin crawl like sandpaper over sunburned skin.

I turn and he is there, this boy who speaks to me with a voice so sad it shatters my heart. His eyes, as green as the deepest forest and filled with salty tears that fall away to splash silently in the sticky red which drenches the floor.

“Don’t you know me?” the sorrow is like gentle waves of warm water washing over me, as endless as the ocean. His hair, the colour of copper in sunlight, crosses over his eyes as he looks down and shakes his head.

“Don’t you see this thing?” his breath falls across my cheek as he embraces me and great wracking sobs rip loose from my chest. The cold wind of memory floods my soul and the blade slips away from my tired hand.

“What have I done?”  We whisper together.  A faint throbbing fills my ears.  It is soft, now, but I know that it has always been there … fading slowly to wind down like a broken clock.  

“You have undone me,” his final sigh passes through my lips, “You have undone yourself.”