Chapter 22: Chapter 22. Hanging on.
(Warning:- Depiction of Survivors' Guilt)
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In the ethereal glow of a sealed cabin, a searing radiance penetrates, accompanied by screams that carry a sinister promise of agony.
Such torment, so cruel and unjust, should never befall one so tender in years.
The anguish of hair being wrenched from its roots pales in comparison to the impending malevolence lurking in the shadows.
Cheeks inflamed and swollen, tresses torn asunder, and scars etched deep within.
Innocence, once pure and unblemished, now succumbs to the hollow void that eagerly awaits, ready to plunge into the abyss.
Gradually, the luminosity wanes, surrendering to the touch of cold hardwood that now morphs into the gentle caress of smooth, comforting hands.
Yet, through the sliver between those tender palms, a piercing azure light seeps forth, revealing a world drenched in crimson.
Within its crimson depths, a mountain of skeletal ascend towards the heavens, casting an eerie pallor.
Through those slender crevices, kin's blood drips, a mournful testimony to the depths of tragedy.
As this personal inferno rages within, the once-shimmering azure trembles, trembling at the most innocuous of encounters.
A solitary vision emerges, an image of a woman, drenched in the scarlet, a menacing specter poised to consume every fiber of his being.
"Why did you not rescue me?" Her voice, an empty vessel devoid of emotion, unearths the pain long since interred.
"Why was it me that was fated to die?"
Each footfall she takes upon the crimson-stained ground yanks him further into a realm of torment, a hell more insidious than this one..
"It is you, who is solely responsible for my death!"
With every utterance from her, a jagged blade manifests, piercing her ethereal form.
Each word is more agonizing than the last. Yet no plea, no supplication escapes his lips, as he yearns for forgiveness.
"It was you who killed me!" Her words, like a final decree, seal his impending doom.
As the abyss, its depths brimming with eternal torment, looms before him, her parting words reverberate, an irreparable fracture in any lingering hope. "You are just like your father, a monster, masquerading as human, but possessing an intellect far too cunning."
Any remnants of any lingering hope crumble under the weight of her damning accusation.
With the closing of the door, a mere sliver of light remains, and the voice he longed for, he yearned to beg with, returns, borne on a desperate wind.
"Mothhhhhherr!" I cried out, as I tumbled into the endless abyss, a descent into eternal suffering.
He pondered, his mind filled with self-doubt and guilt. "Maybe this is for the best," he thought. "I am the reason she's dead. Perhaps if I were gone too, she might still be alive. Maybe it's better if I were dead."
He paused, suddenly realizing that he had been speaking about himself in the third person. Confusion crept in. "Why am I referring to myself this way?" I wondered aloud.
"Because it's you who's speaking, you dunderhead," I chimed in. Did I just say that? No, it was him speaking.
"Yes, it's you—wait, I mean me... or is it you? I was narrating, you see. What do you think of my use of poetic prose?" I mused. I turned around, only to find himself alone.
There was no one else present. It was as if he, or rather I, existed in isolation, surrounded by nothingness.
"Oh, come on, mate. Let me show you something interesting," I interjected, his voice echoing within my mind.
Was this yet another one of those nightmares?
"Yeah, mate, I know you are a bit late to the party," I continued, "but how was our dear mother's visit? Isn't she just lovely?"
"Shut up," I responded sharply, his tone filled with frustration.
"Come on, I was just teasing," I countered. "Look down, I have a surprise for you."
Curiosity piqued, I peered downward and found myself suspended above a mountain of lifeless bodies, with a skull-adorned throne perched atop it.
"What the hell?!" he exclaimed, unable to comprehend the macabre scene before us.
"Hey, this is only the beginning. Don't get too excited," I smirked involuntarily, our expression turning sinister against his will.
"See this? Narcissa's head. Isn't it lovely?" I taunted, followed by a display of heads on pikes—Lily, Mr. Evans, and Mrs. Evans.
"I would.... never do something like that," he protested, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and anguish. "Not to them."
"Who said anything about you killing them?" I replied, a new sense of emptiness akin to the abyss filling our heart. "They're just people you've lost or will lose. Similar to Mother, they're individuals you couldn't save. It's better to leave them behind. Stop using their existence for your own purposes. For justifying those plans you claim to be solely for your benefit or for your greatness. Close the lid on your emotions and succumb to your primal instincts. Embrace the person you've always desired to be."
"Shut up! I'm only dreaming. I just need to wake up," he screamed, not denying the validity of my words.
"Yeah, you're dreaming," I replied, separating myself from him. "Sure, you'll wake up eventually. But then what? I am the deepest part of you, your innermost emotions given form. I am the demon you try to hide. I am your most primal instinct, for I am the true you. I am the TRUTH."
"I've had enough!" I shouted, now fully separated from him.
His figure emitted a reddish aura, his eyes burning with an intense crimson hue.
In this world of emptiness, only he and I existed.
"You're still trying to deflect the truth, aren't you? Allow me to demonstrate the power we possess and its potential, " he hissed, his voice taking on an otherworldly, demonic tone.
Twelve magnificent wings unfurled from his back, each pair representing a different grotesque creature. "Just surrender, for you've clung to your feeble existence for far too long. Do you honestly believe you'll remain unchanged once you unleash the overwhelming surge of suppressed emotions? They will consume your whole being."
"I... I don't know," I stammered, my voice trembling with uncertainty. "But I'll let those emotions consume me once I've achieved what I've always yearned for."
"Ah, behold, the true essence of your being," he jeered, his voice oozing with malicious contempt.
His arms transformed into writhing tentacles, encircling me tightly with their sinister appendages. "It has forever been your deepest desire to see yourself as the greatest sorcerer. How quaint, how utterly naive for a wretched, innocent child, confined to a desolate cabin, to envision a world where you and those like you to be saved."
"Yes, and why does it matter?" I retorted, my anger fueling my defiance. "So what if I long for a world that once spurned my very existence to change? Why must I justify my ambitions and goals?"
His tentacles constricted around me, tightening their grip, as he brought his face unnervingly close to mine, his visage contorted into a sinister grin. "It's not your aspirations I abhor. No, it's the unwarranted confidence you exude. The justification you use. You prance about like some grand mastermind, yet you're nothing but a FOOL.."
Gasping for breath, I abruptly awoke from my nightmarish ordeal, drenched in a cold sweat. Instinctively, I reached for my neck, searching for any remnants of the phantom tentacles that had constricted me just moments before.
I glanced around the room, but the sun had yet to rise, leaving the dormitory still shrouded in darkness.
Strengthening the shield on my mind, I decided to take a quick bath to wash away the lingering unease from my vivid nightmare.
As the warm water wash over my body, my thoughts drifted back to the haunting images of the dream.
"How much longer will these nightmares long? When will I be free from these relentless reminders?"
Stepping out of the bath, I stood before the mirror, my gaze meeting the reflection of my stern, emotionless face. I finally allowed my eyes to lower, fixing upon my hands that I had been avoiding since I woke up.
They still bore the stains of that fateful day, tainted with the blood of my mother.
I knew it was merely an illusion, a hallucination conjured by my troubled mind. Yet, each time I looked at those bloodstained hands, the fragile equilibrium of my sanity threatens to crumble.
With a flick of my wand and a silent incantation, I cast a spell, summoning a pair of gloves to conceal the haunting reminder.
In an attempt to clear my thoughts, I decided to start my physical routine a bit earlier than usual.
It was during this exercise that I noticed him—the mysterious figure. Standing at an impressive height of 6'4", dark-skinned, neatly trimmed hair, and a sturdy physique reminiscent of the fighters I remembered on muggle television back at Lily's house.
He too was engaged in a vigorous run around the castle grounds. On the side, a girl of our age observed him, clutching something tightly in her hand.
I recognized her as one of the top students in potions at Hogwarts, ranking third only after Lily and myself.
Through my occasional jumping into the thoughts of others, I learned his name: Benjy Fenwick. He had recently transferred to Hogwarts the previous year, but there was much more I desired to uncover about him.
However, I knew I needed to regain my own stability before delving into the minds of others. As I completed my rounds, I discreetly left one of my rats within the girl's shadow, hoping to glean further insights in due time.
Throughout the day, I wandered from class to class, eagerly awaiting their conclusion. I stood by the lakeside, waiting for Cissy to arrive. I had promised her lessons in Occlumency.
From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of vibrant red hair passing by. "Lily..." I whispered, my thoughts momentarily consumed by memories of our time here.
"Hey, Severus!" Cissy's voice interrupted my reverie. I turned to face her and was met with her wide grin.
"Are you ready for your lesson?" I inquired, ready to delve into the lessons.
"Always straight to the point, aren't you?" Cissy playfully teased. "Why don't you ask how my day was?"
"You know I'm not one for idle chatter, and I know you don't particularly enjoy it either," I replied, a sense of ease and calmness washing over me. Cissy had a way of making me forget the haunting nightmares that plagued my mind. "But with you, I don't mind engaging in a bit of small talk. You've always had a way of forcing me into it since the day we met."
A genuine smile graced her face—a rare sight indeed. Cissy spoke, "I like the time we spend together. And what's the deal with those gloves? First, you change your hair, then your clothes, and now you're even wearing gloves. Are you trying to audition for Witch Weekly?"
Chuckling softly, I deflected her question, offering a half-truth. "Oh, it's nothing like that. I'm simply wearing them because I'm experimenting with some new potions that are rather toxic and could potentially harm my hands."
"Alright then," Cissy replied, dropping the subject. "Let's get started. I have a basic understanding and basic foundation in Occlumency."
"Excellent starting point," I commended her. "But I intend to take a different approach to your training. You have one method to strengthen your Occlumency skills, but I will employ a more direct method that involves me attempting to enter your mind."
"What?!" Cissy exclaimed, her initial shock giving way to a mischievous expression. She continued, teasingly, "Isn't it rather invasive to peer into a young maiden's mind, Severus?"
Quick to reassure her, I said, "Rest assured, I will be careful not to intrude upon anything personal. It will be a gentle intrusion, merely a light touch."
"Oh, come on, don't be so serious. I was only teasing," Cissy responded, her mischievous tone returning. "I'm ready. Bring it on."
Silently, I entered her mind, sensing that her mental shields were not yet fully developed but not entirely weak either. Within her thoughts, mischievous ideas flitted about. Yet, beneath it all, I sensed a genuine sentiment—a feeling she had concealed from the world, one she had only revealed to me. A genuineness, one reserved for only me.
Withdrawing from her mind, I guided her on isolating her emotions, encouraging her to become a blank slate.
We practiced, and with each attempt, she grew better at repressing emotions other than happiness. It was gratifying to know that I played a role in her joy, but I need for her to continue improving.
Pulling away from her, I urged, "Come on, Cissy, you can do better. I want you to repress any emotions that arise within you right now. I will probe deeper, so try your best to keep me at bay."
Cissy nodded, determination etched on her face. Once again, I delved into her mind, delving further into her memories.
While she had indeed made progress, there was still a lingering thought that clung to her. Following the threads of that thought, I entered a specific memory.
As I opened my eyes, I found myself near the ground, my hand small and delicate. I realized that I was experiencing one of Cissy's childhood memories, likely when she was around eight or nine years old. In her hands, she held a wand, gripping it in an unusual manner. Standing on tiptoes, she struggled to maintain her balance, extending her hand with the wand outstretched. Joy filled her heart—a joy that I had never witnessed in her before.
Just as I felt her happiness, the darkness of pain threatened to taint the eight-year-old Cissy's world. The intensity of that impending heartache weighed heavily on me, and I understood what was to come. Despite this, I knew I could delve even deeper into the memory.
Suddenly, I was abruptly expelled from her mind, finding myself back by the lakeside. Cissy was gasping for air, clearly affected by the experience.
Without hesitation, I moved toward her, holding her in my arms, gently rubbing her back. "It's okay. I'm here. Everything will be alright," I reassured her.
"Hey, Severus, I kicked your arse out of my mind. I did it!" Cissy said, her smile masking the pain that lurked beneath.
Knowing that it was best to play along, I acknowledged her accomplishment.
"It seems you got the better of me," I replied, my voice filled with admiration. "Well done."
She continued to smile, her eyes betraying the torment she wished to avoid discussing.
I understood that she needed more time before opening up about her past, just as I needed time for my own struggles.
"Do you want to try touching the giant squid in the lake?" I offered, changing the subject.
If talking about her pain was too much for her at the moment, I would respect her wishes. Seeing her in pain pained me as well.
"Really?" Cissy's eyes sparkled with excitement.
Cissy, you have always been one of my dearest friends, and lately, I find myself being swayed by your mischievous banter.
There was only one other person who had such an effect on me.
In this abyss that threatens to consume me, you are the only light I find holding onto.
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Let's try to get at least 250 STONES today, if possible.
Give me MY STONES.
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