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To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering – Frederick Nietzsche
~***~
It wasn’t a particularly pleasant night when Josef ran away, the sky was foreshadowing in its feuillemort hue, and heavy with malicious intent as bitter rain pelleted both the boy and the cobbled streets of Stuttgart around him, every drop that hammered on his surroundings echoed in his head like a gunshot in an empty room. He had no recollection of anything that happened within the last 24 hours, including why he was sprinting away through unfamiliar streets or why he was drenched in what looked to be blood, but he would figure it out later, currently the only coherent thought that rang in his head was “run”.
~***~
He didn’t know how long he was running for, but exhaustion finally claimed his weary body, not unlike death which claimed the many souls that wandered the city. He quickly ducked into a dark, almost melancholy alleyway and collapsed onto the rain-slicked cobbles. His entire world felt hazy, a red mist settled in front of his eyes, his lungs damn near empty, pain snaking its way up his body like the smoke of an incense stick, a dysphoric fog blocking all thoughts and memories still overtaking his mind. ‘Is this what it feels like to die?’ He sat in that alley for an amount of time that was unknown to even him, his head still felt like it was imploding in on itself like a black hole, brain being suffocated by the warm, euphorically inviting claws of a fluttering white flag.
His entire body was numb, he didn’t even notice the fresh blood pouring down his arms as he subconsciously tore at the scars there, now he couldn’t be sure whether the gore that covered his body was his or not. Mind still blank and apathetic, he gripped the wall with his long, pale fingers and heaved himself up with the little dexterity and strength he could muster, stumbling out of the claustrophobic alley and limping on, past a sign that read “Mann & co, 50th anniversary, arms dealing since 1893” and turned the corner, everything felt like a dream, like he wasn’t the one controlling his body, like it knew where to go on its own.
~***~
As the houses got fewer and the storm exacerbated, Josef persevered on through the elements ruling the darkening ether, his spindly legs tripping on every possible stone and pebble, only adding to the bloody, mud-spattered mess that was his entire presence. His body was being domineered by some unseen presence, and he had no idea where it was leading him.
Before long, he found himself standing at the gates of what looked to be an abandoned manor, the once regal aura of the imposing structure since lost to the centuries, the building’s mahogany wooden beams and grandeur limestone columns crumbling under the depressing pressure of time. ‘Someone died here’ said the voice in Josef’s head, he’d never been here before in his life, and yet he knew somehow, he could sense it, there was a certain aura around the entire place that manifested pure, cold death. He subconsciously lifted his hand to the cold metal bars of the gate and recoiled in shock as the gate slowly swung open, the noise the rusty hinges made was akin to the screeching of a crow, or nails on a chalkboard. He easily slipped his lithe form through the gap and smiled as snaking brambles teased him and tore through his already bloodstained legs, he could barely register the pain, although if he could he wouldn’t be so averse to it. Out of nowhere, images started flashing in his mind, the cold flash if steel, the smooth glide of a blade embedded deep in someone’s flesh, the crack of their sternum as he brutalized them with the knife over, and over, and over- his mouth started watering, ‘you can’t stop now' he kept limping forwards, ‘Not. Yet.’
He reached the rotting, rosewood door and suddenly felt the compelling urge to knock, he knew it was stupid, and that no one would answer, but still he gently rapped his knuckles on the door and chuckled softly when he was met with silence. His laughter was cut short when he could hear soft movement on the other side, his mind started racing ‘its just an animal, this would be a good place to hide in a downpour like this, it’s probably a raccoon or-‘ he was cut off by, well he didn’t exactly know what it was, it lived in his head, spoke to him, and sometimes made him do things, it spoke with a low, raspy voice, ‘go on, open the door, they’re waiting for you’, he had no idea what it meant by that, but it was already beyond negotiation, as his arm was extending towards the door, willowy fingers curling around the rusted brass handle, the metal felt like liquid nitrogen on his palm as he gently twisted it and pushed the door inward, it emitted the same horrendous, crow-like pandemonium as it swung inward on copper-rusted hinges, ‘go inside, what are you waiting for, the order is waiting’ the red miasma began creeping into his vision again as he succumbed to the voice, mind going as blank as the cloudy sky above him...
~***~
© XenoDMA
~***~
It wasn’t a particularly pleasant night when Josef ran away, the sky was foreshadowing in its feuillemort hue, and heavy with malicious intent as bitter rain pelleted both the boy and the cobbled streets of Stuttgart around him, every drop that hammered on his surroundings echoed in his head like a gunshot in an empty room. He had no recollection of anything that happened within the last 24 hours, including why he was sprinting away through unfamiliar streets or why he was drenched in what looked to be blood, but he would figure it out later, currently the only coherent thought that rang in his head was “run”.
~***~
He didn’t know how long he was running for, but exhaustion finally claimed his weary body, not unlike death which claimed the many souls that wandered the city. He quickly ducked into a dark, almost melancholy alleyway and collapsed onto the rain-slicked cobbles. His entire world felt hazy, a red mist settled in front of his eyes, his lungs damn near empty, pain snaking its way up his body like the smoke of an incense stick, a dysphoric fog blocking all thoughts and memories still overtaking his mind. ‘Is this what it feels like to die?’ He sat in that alley for an amount of time that was unknown to even him, his head still felt like it was imploding in on itself like a black hole, brain being suffocated by the warm, euphorically inviting claws of a fluttering white flag.
His entire body was numb, he didn’t even notice the fresh blood pouring down his arms as he subconsciously tore at the scars there, now he couldn’t be sure whether the gore that covered his body was his or not. Mind still blank and apathetic, he gripped the wall with his long, pale fingers and heaved himself up with the little dexterity and strength he could muster, stumbling out of the claustrophobic alley and limping on, past a sign that read “Mann & co, 50th anniversary, arms dealing since 1893” and turned the corner, everything felt like a dream, like he wasn’t the one controlling his body, like it knew where to go on its own.
~***~
As the houses got fewer and the storm exacerbated, Josef persevered on through the elements ruling the darkening ether, his spindly legs tripping on every possible stone and pebble, only adding to the bloody, mud-spattered mess that was his entire presence. His body was being domineered by some unseen presence, and he had no idea where it was leading him.
Before long, he found himself standing at the gates of what looked to be an abandoned manor, the once regal aura of the imposing structure since lost to the centuries, the building’s mahogany wooden beams and grandeur limestone columns crumbling under the depressing pressure of time. ‘Someone died here’ said the voice in Josef’s head, he’d never been here before in his life, and yet he knew somehow, he could sense it, there was a certain aura around the entire place that manifested pure, cold death. He subconsciously lifted his hand to the cold metal bars of the gate and recoiled in shock as the gate slowly swung open, the noise the rusty hinges made was akin to the screeching of a crow, or nails on a chalkboard. He easily slipped his lithe form through the gap and smiled as snaking brambles teased him and tore through his already bloodstained legs, he could barely register the pain, although if he could he wouldn’t be so averse to it. Out of nowhere, images started flashing in his mind, the cold flash if steel, the smooth glide of a blade embedded deep in someone’s flesh, the crack of their sternum as he brutalized them with the knife over, and over, and over- his mouth started watering, ‘you can’t stop now' he kept limping forwards, ‘Not. Yet.’
He reached the rotting, rosewood door and suddenly felt the compelling urge to knock, he knew it was stupid, and that no one would answer, but still he gently rapped his knuckles on the door and chuckled softly when he was met with silence. His laughter was cut short when he could hear soft movement on the other side, his mind started racing ‘its just an animal, this would be a good place to hide in a downpour like this, it’s probably a raccoon or-‘ he was cut off by, well he didn’t exactly know what it was, it lived in his head, spoke to him, and sometimes made him do things, it spoke with a low, raspy voice, ‘go on, open the door, they’re waiting for you’, he had no idea what it meant by that, but it was already beyond negotiation, as his arm was extending towards the door, willowy fingers curling around the rusted brass handle, the metal felt like liquid nitrogen on his palm as he gently twisted it and pushed the door inward, it emitted the same horrendous, crow-like pandemonium as it swung inward on copper-rusted hinges, ‘go inside, what are you waiting for, the order is waiting’ the red miasma began creeping into his vision again as he succumbed to the voice, mind going as blank as the cloudy sky above him...
~***~
© XenoDMA
