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Each step was made with caution yet determination. He would complete this task, even if he questioned. After all, she had much to do if he wanted to be a goddess. If he could even become one. It was all very convoluted. Go fight coreless creatures, find other like yourself but not. There was a goal, but there was also a want. A need for something he didn't know he could name. Desire for something- the fact he didn't know what he wanted annoyed him.

"Marcus."

And then sounds started. Again and again sounds, a name he didn't know, though the name was pleasant sounding at the very least, the voice... something else. It mixed his emotions in delightful and terrifying ways.

Each step was long and each step made him more concerned then the last. Then-

Then there was an end. The sound did not stop, though he seemed to have found it's source, the place that he was to be? Or not. His way was blocked, and this thing, this thing in his way would not yeild to hands alone. He would need something more. Something better.

He hit it.

Once.

Twice-

It would not give him the satisfaction of progress. It would not give him what he wanted, not that way. Carmus's face began to settle into a scowl as he found himself at an impass. The Goddess said it was in a lab, in a chest, in a special place. Was this it? Did it matter? He had a key, a bag, scissors-

He has gifts from one goddess. He could and would deliver as promised.
A promise he hadn't even really agreed to, merely accepted as duty. As necessity. As a step to his own reward.

Looking into the crate, the shape made him scowl more. An arm was not a heart, though the arm by itself was not so grand, what it was attached to, what it might lead too- He touched it, it clawed him, screamed the name he thought pleasant---


She smiled at him. Her smile was white, perfect, and he wondered why she did it so often, why she smiled at him for no reason other than to smile. Her hands on his chest, there was sunlight around them, filtering through trees along with warm wet air. Humidity, it made the shirt he wore cling tighter to his body. She liked his body. She said he was handsome, and that he shouldn't ever change. To not listen to the other boys, inks were disgusting.

Jessica.

She kissed him there, under the shade of trees and the warmth of the late spring day. She kissed him and told him she liked him, always had. She watched him in school, wanted to get to know him. She touched his face, told him how she wanted to go to that party later. To dance with him.

Her eyes were so bright, her smile so white. He thought she was perfect, that even if he didn't know her- maybe, just maybe.

He wanted to hold her, touch her face, kiss her back, yet he didn't. She would pull away, making him catch her. Chase her. A game- it was always a game with her.

She'd see him later.

He was going to offer to give her his number but-



Red was a lovely color. Complimentary. It didn't repulse him. Colors should not repulse. It did not delight him. Not this shade of red. He felt strange yet not. This was not a red he enjoyed, but it was red all the same.
Red that was not his favorite red he decided.

Pushing at it, the sound was steady, loud. This was the chest. Yet there was no keyhole, no way to unlock it. Bringing forth the key and pressing it to the chest did nothing. A key would not unlock the chest, would not yield a heart in such a fashion. Carmus would have to resort to other means, other ways.

A heavy sigh, the gift of the goddess was still in his hand. It would have it's use, she told him it was all he needed.

She'd be right of course.

The scissors were effective, and slowly, he wedged them in, and the soft and firm barrier gave way, the heart being that much closer to him. To being taken.

He wasn't sure the length of time he stood there, carefully peeling away, gently aiming the pointed ends and blade from the prize, careful not to damage it. A hole that was just big enough, just wide enough. His hand slid in, the warmth closer now. The red heart within his grasp.

Other things move, giving resistance still, and Carmus sighed. A bother, an annoyance. He only needed the heart, everything else was useless to him. Once again he went to work, cutting away at that which held him back, carefully, methodical, he didn't wish to bring back something damaged, something that was not whole or as perfect as possible.

The hole needed to be bigger, and with a grunt he widened it, made it easy to reach in. To maneuver.
Finally his work paid off and he could heart it, see it and feel it in an alien view. Into the bag it went.

He had the heart that was asked of him.

None of this mattered.


None of it. His mind was else where. His mind was with the scream, the name, the images and flashes and sights and sounds.

He didn't wish to fail. Failure would deprive him of his goal, the goddess of what she needed. Carmus had no choice.

It bothered him.

The scissors were still in hand.

He didn't want to do it, not really.

He fought. He won, the pain of the water left as did the one who's heart he took.

Light and a door he saw his chance and he took it.

The figure left behind, heart taken by a man who didn't understand everything around him.

Like someone else from a memory he could not place.

A room, a table, bright and noisy in ways that drew forth his irritability, Carmus waited a few seconds and when it seemed nothing was to happen- he moved. The door was open, and invitation to go outside. He took it.

The sound that was not the annoyance had him turn, pause, and he regret it. You didn't look at the past.

This time the past was looking back at him.

And end came too quickly in his mind. Passcodes- he didn't know what the passcode was. He didn't care, only that he didn't know what was behind him. He didn't know if it was friend or foe- he didn't know his past either.
That too, scared him.

His eyes flickered around him, noting a slip of paper. Hastily, he picked it up and read it but to what purpose?

A C E G

It was meaning less to him. It was useless to him.

35ft

Screaming, she threw a lamp at him, bulb shattering, glass cutting his hand when he fell to the ground, afraid. He wanted an answer, was it really that bad to ask? She was screaming, cursing him, asking why she wasn't perfect, if he only was nice to her because they did it, because she was pretty.

He wanted to say no, but the words died in fear. He was afraid to say anything.

But he was also afraid she was right.

25

Carmus was prone, no, he was determined to survive. As his foot snagged, He fought, and as he fought, he made the choice, painful as it was.

The foot would return-

A heart would not.

Another task, this one from someoen a little more friendly then that last two he'd encountered. She asked if he loved her and he sat, stunned, unsure how to answer. He... well love was a word that had emotions tied to it. Heavy ones, ones that went with his heart. The simple answer was yes, the difficult one was truth.

He was unsure. The offer to feel emotions, to feel- Carmus breathed, silent, waiting for the goddess's will, for her words, not his own. If she wanted a tea party- He'd give her one. That was reasonable. Good even. Walking through the gate, Carmus paused to look back of his own choice.

He was confused if this was indeed, what his goddess willed.

Sweets, none looked the best but- Chocolate, smoking or not, was something that he might as well try- even if it made him feel bad. The tea was a blessing, but- Blue, dark, he placed his trust in it again. Just like before.

Just like before, if did not prove to comfort him as he thought it might.