[ prp ] Flayer (Riley)

[lizbot]

The pain was once again beyond the comprehension of even one of her kind. It was the pain of existence, forced apart and then snapped together. That moment of solidity should be a relief, but there are gaps, there are pieces of wrongness that had taken root and flourished within her.

The room is plain and white and sterile in a way that few areas of the world manage to be. There is a wrongness here too. Across from her existence, forced apart and together once more, is a succubus, all red skin and sable hair and vicious curves. She holds a clipboard and an unkind smile.

"Again."

nio love

 

[Nio Love]

Not being able to think was maddening in its foreign feel. She couldn't string two thoughts together. The complicated weave of multiple calculations threading through one another was broken and destroyed, like an abandoned web succumbing to the wind. And all she knew was pain, a level of pain that deafened her mind into oblivion.

And then she was oblivion, burst into thousands of tiny thoughtless particles of Fear, floating painlessly as they tried desperately to claw their way out of whatever cage held them there. They fought against the tide, but always, always they were pulled back together into a single corrupted core.

Each time her senses return to her, she wants to beg, to beg for an end, but the words never come out. All she hears is the succubus demanding for another, seconds before the pain blinds her once more.

Riley was patched in grey and wrought with desolation. All the best laid plans were useless now, as she was left to suffer in this place worse than hell. She wished for hell. She longed for it. She would burn eternally and be glad for it, after this.

Her body burst into a thousand points of light once more, reaching, pulling, trying to break free- and then she was together again, on her knees.

Why. She whispered, before the succubus could ask again. Won't. You. Kill. Me.

She hadn't done anything to deserve this.

Yet.

lizbot

 

[lizbot]

Sinclaire wrote down something on her clipboard, and answered as once again, Riley returned to existence. "You came back wrong. I need to find the mistake."

The demon glanced up, "Again."

Existence was torn to pieces and rebuilt once more.

"Haven't you noticed?" Sinclaire asked.

nio love

 

[Nio Love]

Before she could scream, before she could even think she was torn apart again, tiny particles floating outward for a moment before an unseen force pulled them back, balling up and entangling themselves up once more.

When she returned, she was already screaming.

It was a wordless, gutteral cry at first. Then it cut off out of pure hatred, as Riley heaved pained breaths and stared up at the woman. I am not wrong, She hissed out as quickly as possible. You are the one who is wrong. Doing this to me with no remorse, with your clinical gaze. The only core that is corrupted here is yours.

She finished this final saying with a sound from her tentacles that could have been similar to spitting, aimed at Sinclaire's feet.

lizbot

 

[lizbot]

The demoness glanced at her shoe and said, "Again."

She answered as Riley reformed. "You're incomplete. You have more gaps in you now, than can be explained by a hole in your chest."

A smile.

"Again."

nio love

 

[Nio Love]

She found it hard to breathe the next time her body came together. She wondered if her lungs refused to reform correctly out of sheer stubborn protest of it all. She focused on using what little air she was gasping, before she tried to speak again.

Just, stop. Stop this. There has to be another way. You're a scientist. Find a way to fix these gaps without killing me over and over again.

lizbot

 

[lizbot]

"Well..." Sinclaire began, voice a toothy purr, "...if you don't what us to find what's missing, we could always just fill the gaps with something else."

nio love

 

[Nio Love]

She could sense the trap a mile away. All of this had been done for this moment. This one single offer, handed out as an olive branch - a balm for a soul so utterly destroyed, there was no other recourse but to take it and be grateful. As soon as Sinclaire said the words, Riley knew this had been her intent all along.

And even knowing that, she knew she would take it.

Her head dropped, and her voice strained to remain neutral. Tell me. She demanded, refusing to walk into Sinclaire's trap without her eyes wide open.

She would have fought until she died, if she had thought for one second that death was ever an option. But this fate was worse than death, and that was a fate she was not prepared for.

lizbot

 

[lizbot]

"Again."

The world was no longer a sterile little room, all white walls and cold gazes. Riley came back into existence surrounded by the rough stone walls of a cave. Before her were seven mirrors and behind her stood Sinclair. Further back, in the distance and nearly beyond sight, was a door with seven keyholes, each a different color. They were perhaps important, but it was the mirrors that would capture Riley's attention.

In each reflection stood herself, each version recognizably so; but the differences were obvious, in her posture and clothing and body, where she stood and what she was surrounded by.

In the first she was clearly a warrior, the dying crushed underfoot. In another she held a shield against a coming attack, student crouching behind her. Another and she held a staff aloft, and around her the broken bowed, worshipful and awed. The fourth held a throne, and while she stood near, Riley did not sit upon it. The fifth held the flayer gesturing with authority over a map of their worlds. The sixth and she was standing at the center of a very clear, very still pool, an oracle with offerings laid at her feet, a shadowy halo crowning her head with dark radiance. In last, she held a pumpkin glowing with Fear and new life, row after row marched beside and behind her, the Mother of a new order.

In all of them she held a purpose greater than simply existing and a power more than any simple citizen of the world would ever be given in this time of peace and prosperity.

In all of them there was not a single friend to be seen.

nio love

 

[Nio Love]

When her head lifted, she reveled in the feeling of remaining solid for more than a minute at a time. Her body straightened up, in slow and sinewy moves. The slightest tilt of her head was enough to give her the knowledge that Sinclaire was still behind her. Then her attention focused on the mirrors, and the view within each one.

It was clear what they meant. Sinclaire was offering her what she considered to be a new path for her future. What Riley did not understand, was what made the woman think she had the power, or even the right, to do such a thing.

She doubted the answer was anything but deception, but she played along for a moment or two.

Immediately a tentacle slammed into the mirror with the pumpkins and all of the tiny little Riley clones waiting reverently at her feet. As tempting as making her own, perfect army might have been at one point in her life, the prospect of scarelings would always deter her. In no world was that a perfect ending to her story.

You must be joking. Riley murmured, carefully, to the woman behind her. You give me mirrors, you show me choices, and what. Am I to see this future fulfilled by your assistance? She had stopped at the one where she was in a pool of water, being treated as a god. She snorted in amusement, and turned to face Sinclaire with utter disdain. What gives you the power to do anything about my future?

Behind her, without looking, her tentacle smashed the oracle mirror into pieces.

lizbot

 

[lizbot]

Sinclaire inspected her manicure, stating mildly, "My existence is power and your future is mine, yours and that of everyone else, that has never been in question."

nio love

 

[Nio Love]

Riley's head tilted back in a long, pealing laugh. She turned completely to the woman, her eyes crescented with mirth, and her thoughts began to inform Sinclaire of just how ridiculous that notion was, when everything came together. None of this was real, of course, but she'd held on to some sick and strangely hopeful belief that the woman in front of her was, in fact, still the one who'd saved her from her stone prison, if she could even call it that.

Belatedly, she accepted that wasn't true, but neither did she know who she was. My future is only my own. If your existence is power, then prove it. That is a heady claim to make, after all. Prove that you are more than just another figment of illusion.

She hedged, and then gave her a flutter of her eyelashes. Please.

lizbot

 

[lizbot]

Sinclaire smiled and nodded, "I am an illusion. And this..." she gestured, "...is a dream."

And this time she was the one who laughed long and pleased until suddenly she stopped and, "Again."

The world reformed and they were back in the white room.

"I do not prove myself to others, fearling. Again."

The world reformed more slowly, the agony of it lengthened and magnified.

"This is a dream, but that doesn't mean you will wake up. I am unfond of impertinence."

nio love

 

[Nio Love]

In retrospect, she probably deserved that.

She had no time for retrospect, however - the agony was back, with new and somehow greater suffering. She knew this wasn't real. Sinclaire had all but told her it was a dream, and illusion, a fake - and if she gave in here, what good would she be, how would she ever -

Her thoughts, and the rest of her, scattered to the wind.

Again she was faced with an eternity of this torture. Death was never on the table, nor were any answers from her unseen foe. She had one choice, not seven.

Fine. She whispered, haggard and broken. But still, just a little impertinence slipped into her voice as she rose her head up, and looked at Sinclaire with weak amusement. But you can't blame me for trying.

lizbot

 

[lizbot]

Tilting her head Sinclaire corrected her, "Yes, I can."

And then, "Again."

And they were once again faced with the mirrors. Naked and barefoot, the shards of those broken dug into her her flesh with ever motion. The could-have-beens nestle under her skin and with them will come dreams and nightmares both. Offering only fleeting, half remembered glances into closed doors and lost chances.

"You can," Sinclaire intoned, "...say no. You can create your own little, half-hearted future that will last until the board is truly set. Lacking and less than a pawn's existence, true, but it will be yours and yours alone while it lasts."

xnio love