Pandæmonium - Pt.2

She turned the key of the house, stepped in and took a deep breath, as if she would announce that she was back home. Stopped. Her hand was still on the doorknob. Her heart forgot to beat for a few seconds, her eyes was filled with tears and dropped the key that she was holding to the ground. She remembered to breath again while her heart was torn into pieces. She fell on her knees, her head rested on the door that she was still holding like it was the only connection to the empty reality she was living in. She screamed, her other hand on her heart, tears were falling down her cheeks. She kept screaming until she was out of breath, kept crying until she was out of tears, on the doorway, while two eyes were watching her curious but silently.

"-Ok guys, combat res that fucking hunter! Buff him right away and someone pop a fucking bloodlust for him!" he yelled to the screen, in the middle of the night, like this sentence made any sense in this world. But it made sense in another world that he roamed, known by another name, living in another appearance.

"- He is going down guys! Push it! Push it!" His hand was dancing on the keyboard. His eyes were dry. It was minutes that he did not blink, his body was strained like his life was depending on what he was doing. "come on" he murmured "come the fuck on." He was sitting on the same chair for hours without moving besides his fingers that were hitting the key with all his rage.

"-Holy fucking shit we did it! We did it guys! Good job! Good job all, good fucking job all of you guys, thank you!" They obviously did something. It was the first time after months, that he felt... something. His body was relaxed after hours, he leaned back to his chair. He knew that he needed to be happy. He did what he was after for so long. He was one of the very few elite players that were able to achieve what he just did a few moments ago. There were still screams and celebrations going on in his headset. He took it off slowly and muted it seconds after he put it on his table. He held his head in his hands, his heartbeat was back to normal right after his glorious victory won against a repetitive software. "Now what?" he whispered to himself. 

He got out of his room. It was quiet and dark in the house. Took a step out to the balcony. The muggy summer night was a little bit soothed by the weak wind that could only carry itself. He lid a cigarette and stared to the dark alley that was visible from the place he stood. He was blankly trying to hum a song synchronized with the bulb of the street light that was flashing. It was then, he remembered that crumb of feeling he felt, just after his victory, that meant nothing to him now. He put his hand to his chest and tried to remember how it felt like.

Like a lightening, pictures started to hit his mind. He closed his eyes to get rid of them, but that just made them worse. Images of people smiling was filling his mind, a blond teen with eyes blue like the summer sky, was smiling at him. He could tell that he was worried. The boy was extending his hand towards him until a few centimeters away from him. It was the first time he saw the cracks on the surface of those beautiful blue eyes, that looked deep into him. It was the first time he realized how the hands were shaking while the boy was pushing the wall that was blocking him. He opened his eyes, he was not strong enough to look at this image under his eyelids.

Then he heard a voice. Whispering him softly into his ear. The trembling voice of a girl, which was clear as a diamond months ago when they first met each other. Her first reaction was to stay away from him. And now she was regretful for not keeping that line and letting that wicked guy in her colorful life. He first took the colors out, left nothing but black, white and grey. The red on her lips was the only color that he couldn't kill. Then he took the melody out of her breath and distorted it, distorted it until she decided that maybe it was better to keep silent than to sing. He pressed his hands to his ears to stop the whisper of the voice that was once pure and happy. That just made him hear it louder. He started to beg her to stop. 

He knelt down his hand on his ears, begging to a ghost that roamed his blurred mind to stop. He closed his eyes to see the broken blue eyes reaching to the deepest corner of his tar like heart. There, he felt a gentle hand on his back, trying to sooth him. A very familiar warm patting to comfort. He knew that deadly cold shiver would come running down his spine. He felt his razor sharp thorns were roughening. He immediately jumped forward, away from the touch, to face a tall, assuring young man approaching him slowly, with care. His face was pale, much paler than he remembered. The man extended his hands, to hold him from the shoulders. "No" he begged, "don't, it will hurt. I will hurt you, please don't" But the tall man didn't listen to his cries. Continued to caress his shoulders. With each movement he was bleeding more. With each stroke new wounds were open on his strong hands. The man finally reached out to hug him. "NO!" he yelled. The man did not care, and slowly hugged him. He saw a dark and sharp branch pierced through the heart of the man and joined to the dark of the night. "I warned you" he whispered "I begged you to not" he cried when the pale tall man became dust in his arms, leaving a memory of a broken yet happy smile drawn on the dying lips.

He tumbled to his side, sobbing. Months, maybe years later aware again, of what he did. Lots of different voices, familiar but long gone, were buzzing in his ears that he could here between his damaged breath. The heaviness of all the moments he neglected was pushing his chest down, much harder than gravity itself. He looked down to his hands to see wounds open by the shards of hearts he broke. He wasn't sure if the blood running down his wrists were his or the ones that he murdered, coldly. His ugly face was scorched by the tears flowed down like the core of the earth itself was pouring out of his eyes darkened by regret. 

"That is why..." a cold voice whispered from the dark "...we decided not to feel again, you jester." He never felt such rage, hatred and disgust in his life. He stood up from the ground he was crawling, he grabbed the figure hiding in the dark by his fat, hairy neck. He squeezed it with all the emotions he missed to feel past years. His hands were deadlier than claws of sublime predators. He shook the same ugly face he had with both his hand, and throw the dark replica down the balcony. Just to see him float mid air, with a smirk, stroking his bruised neck. "You will come back to me" the dark figure said with a lethal emptiness. Before disappearing in thin air.

He sat on the balcony until the dawn breaks, mourning for all the moments that passed by while he was refusing to live. 


He entered the room which was bigger than the magnificent foyer that he was waiting moments ago. "The Architect" he saluted with respect. The dark figure sitting behind a massive table which looked like a burned and crooked tree nodded. "First, an evil wizard from a child's book that literally obliterated his universe out of ambition with a band that got disbanded because of their over bloated egos. Now a pathetic computer game. What will be the cause of the next failure? A pink unicorn?!" he hissed from the shadows. His eyes caught the Architect's. There was a spark of excited sadism in them. "He's getting away, true. But the seeds are sown."