Cmdr Maul Montresor
Role
Hacker / Freelancer
Registered ship name
Desumashin
Credit balance
-
Rank
Pioneer
Registered ship ID
Imperial Courier MA-21E
Overall assets
-
Squadron
Imperial Deathwatch
Allegiance
Independent
Power
Yuri Grom

Logbook entry

Chasing Ghosts X: 307

30 Mar 2024Maul Montresor
If you're seeing this, thanks for clicking . I'm just popping in here to acknowledge the gaps between my posts. This story is a confusing mess, kind of experimental and riddled with little easter eggs, but a story I've been wanting to write for a while. The infrequent nature of the posts likely only furthers the confusion and that's totally on me. Life gets in the way sometimes and other times I just lose the will to write anything at all. Sue me! (please don't ) Anyway, this is just a little thank you note to anyone reading this craziness. If this is the first post of mine you're seeing, I appreciate you taking the time to give it a look



---Click Here For Previous Post---
ʎɐʍɐ5




"...Temporary Redirect..."

uǝppᴉɥ4



Echoes, that's how I'd describe it. Echoes of an echo continuing ad infinitum, weakening G̶̢͇͒Ŕ̸̫̊Ȍ̸̡́W̵͇̪̃͠I̸̻̐̓N̷̨̫̿G̷̞̮̚͠ over time to something N̴̞͔͋Ó̸͚̾T̶͚̥̒H̵͈͆̚Ī̷̳̙̌N̸̢̛̗͑G̷͔̅̋ͅ barely resembling the original. But then, that draws to question; What is the original? Would I recognize it if I heard it? Was IT even the original? Are we hearing a copy of a copy that's no longer a copy? A̶̳̱͝R̶̫͆̉E̸̮̥̼͂ we even sure that we can be sure?
                       thereisnothingÝ̷͖͍ͅO̶͓̬͝Ú̷̧͐cando
                      thereisnooneḼ̸̂Ī̴ͅȘ̶̣̠̅̀̒T̴̡͎̣͗̍́E̵̤͈͇͆N̴̟̣̉I̶̗̅̕N̸͓͚̲͋G̶̛̳̺̠?̶̳̈̚anymore

If the copy of a copy is no longer a copy is it then a new original? Where W̴͚͓͌H̴͔͛͋E̶̹͊̈N̷̡̎ did it start? Who started it? When W̶̮̙͋̃H̸̛͙͈Ê̸̢̢Ŕ̴͉E̷̳͙̅͝ will it end? How—
                                         oɥM

               Somethings
                               Wrong
         Nothings
                                        Right
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

When I opened my eyes, Vega was gone and I felt emptier. Her hand was no longer in mine. Instead, I held my fist tightly clenched out in front of me. Unfurling my fingers and releasing my palm from its prison, blood began dripping onto the table by my waist. Strange but at least this time it appeared to be my own blood. A cut from something I cannot remember. As scared and confused as I was, in that moment, I oddly felt some semblance of peace. Maybe I'd began to finally accept the fact that I was slowly losing my mind. Something that had been happening for years. "Nothing made sense anymore and that's fine." I thought, as I watched the blood drip from my hand. Following the drop with my eyes during it's descent towards the table, I hear a barely audible but still present "splat" come from the singular drop as it hit the surface erupting into other tinier drops. A glow from the screen of a personal computer suddenly shone light through the blood, projecting small red dots of lights onto the visor of my helmet like a multitude of sharpshooters all lining up the shot before blasting away at their target. But no, it was only Karazija's computer, the one I'd found before something strange happened. Another "something" that I cannot remember. But how'd it get here?

"Montresor....Do you read?!" Darlings voice cracked through the speakers in my helmet. I'd nearly forgot about her. Nearly everything really.

I responded with a simple "Yeah." It was all I could muster as I stared at the red speckles of light.

"You've been dark for a while now. We were starting to think that something had happened to you."

"It did. Something did happen to me." I didn't actually say it but I wanted to. It was the truth after all. A truth drenched in shadow but the truth none the less.

"I found Karazija's computer." I said, picking the device up and attempting to wipe the blood from the screen only to smear it making it worse. "There are a few files—"

Fuck. One was missing. "Project: FRACTURE" was gone. I remember it being there but now it's just gone. I started to read it just before— Fuck, did I delete it and forget? Why would I do that?

"Well? What about them? Did you find out anything?" She asked, her tone soaked in anticipation.

Deciding that it was best not to mention the missing file, I only mentioned the two that remained. "Ask Karazija about Project: B.E.V and Project: ALTAR and why he hid the details from us." I looked at the screen as I read the word "ALTAR". It didn't feel right. I was certain it wasn't ALTAR before but rather ALTER. The word itself was...altered. Did I do that too or even at all? A divine intervention, a sign from something bigger than us? Unlikely.

The comms went silent for a little too long. Thinking she'd scurried off to find and question the evasive doctor. I waited patiently and mulled over the events that had led me to this moment. Trying to make sense of memories that didn't exist. A pointless endeavor. Though, one that was cut short.

"Maul, are you feeling okay?" She broke the silence with sincerity. Possibly the kindest of ways to break a truly palpable silence; with sincerity.

I answered with an honest and sullen "No, not really."

"Honey, Karazija's dead. That was the whole reason we'd asked you to retrieve his computer. He died on the first night of the riot about a month ago. We talked about this during your recovery when I first pitched you the idea."

My legs were noodles, my arms jello, my heart leaking battery acid, my head floating atop the disgusting toxic amalgamation my body had abruptly mutated into. I turned to sit on the table and tried to keep my nose above the soupy venom. I clenched the computer tight and pushed it into my chest as I tried to simply breathe but even that proved difficult.

"No...He patched up my head...I remember...dark hair...greying on the sides..." I said between labored breaths, pushing my helmet up and feeling the patched wound to convince myself of my own words and thoughts.

"That was Victor that tended to your head wound. Maybe you should come back to base and let him check you out again. Somethings wrong."


"Nothings Right"



Back and forth, forwards and back. Like it mattered. It never did. A drop of blood in a pond or an ocean, it was all the same. Never enough to turn the surrounding waters red but just enough to become a part of something larger than itself. Blending, merging into something resembling it's past self but now containing something new, something different. It's not about the waves we rode in on but the waves we ride out. Crashing to the shore with the power and anger of a once slumbering titan now awoken and ready to exact revenge. Not once who we were but twice who we are now. Larger than the sum and the sun. DISPARATE.DISPARATE.D̶I̴S̵P̶A̷R̴A̷T̴E̷.D̴̲͗Ì̴͚͎̉S̵̢͖͖̀Ṕ̸̰̲̙̆̆Á̴̡R̸̞͈̞͑͠A̶̻͛̅Ť̴̮̳̝͋͠E̵̹̦̤͆.̶̻̬͚̚D̴̢̩̬̲̟͙͕̘̤̎̅͌͑͒̄I̵̧̧̩͕̞̣̙̎̏̾́̑͜͜͠S̷̢̜͓̟̼̹͎̻̿͜P̴̢̛̗̦̔̏̒̐̀̐̂̌Ạ̷͚͕͍̺̒̅̔̀͛͒̃Ṙ̴̙̮̱́͒̎͝Á̵̡̺̮͕͉̘̥̏͌̿̇T̷̺͖̃̅̾̓̓͝Ę̵̘͓͉̥͂̾̇̇́̕͜͝ͅ.̶̢̛̫͓̪̜̬̫͈͛͑̇D̶͓̰̔͆͑̂̔̊͜͜Ȉ̶̧̢̨̬̼̺̙͔̭̖̮̳͉̝̹̳̦̭͎̯̰̠̫̤̣̦̳͎̮͇͖̙͋̀̀͐̓̿̉̍̈́́͐̀̃́͒͊͌̿̈́ͅS̴̛̞̗̙̝̖̈͗̃͂́̉̌͛̈͒͒̈͑͑̏̈́͑͑̉͂̑̈́̒͗̉͘̕̚͠͠͠P̴̧̡̢̢̛̦͉̼̗̥̦͕̠͍̱̖͓͓̗͋̓́̀͆͋̌͊̈́̑͜Á̵̧̧̡̼͙͕͎̹̼̳͉̪̱̲̦̭̟͇̳̣̯͚̼̺͈̣͓̞̼͕̗͉̫́̔̚ͅR̸̞̠͕̰͉̊̽́̍̈͊̌̓͐́̒͂̓̃̌͛̏͌̌͌̓͐̅̾̆̓͝͝A̴̧͕̪̪͎̪̰͙̚͝ͅT̸͓͓͕̩̣͂̀Ę̴͉̺̰͉̠͙̻͋̔̅̌̅͌͂̏͒̓̐̅̿̔̑͒̈́̄̅̔̇͘͜͝ͅ.̵̳̦͓̗͎̺͈̫̜̲͍̘̬̬̎͒̄̀͌͋͋̈͒̊͊̔͒̄̈́̀̓͋͌̀̆̚͜





I'd somehow found myself standing in the open doorway to the lab again. It was completely dark. I stared into that nothingness with a loud intensity. If Darling had been talking, I had either ignored her or blocked her out entirely. I was alone but I knew I wasn't. A quick flick of the switch on my flashlight and light had successfully burrowed through the darkness, revealing it's secrets. What I recall as a previously empty lab that had housed various instruments and scientific hieroglyphics of which I didn't understand, the very same lab I'd found Karazija's computer in, had suddenly become a scene of tragic happenings. Multiple bodies in white lab coats were scattered across the lab floor, all of them meeting their end gruesomely. I spotted broken glass tubing forced down the throat of one victim before pulling my gaze away and following one of the various blood trails. Only then did I see what I dreaded the most but knew was present in the darkness. A horrifically mutilated David Karazija. A man I vividly recall speaking with just hours ago, now dead for weeks. Weeks before I'd even arrived somehow.

I doubled over, still grasping the doctors computer in my left hand while cradling my stomach with my right, staining my suit with blood from the cut on my hand. I wanted to puke. I felt dopesick, scared, confused, sad, mad, intrigued, lonely, tired, etc. But most of all, I was just sick. Sick of this place.

"Darling...I'm going to keep moving...reset that power...get us out of here..." I spoke between bouts of disgusting phlegm filled dry heaving, gagging and spitting.

There was no time to try and process anything. How does one process fraudulent memories? My head was already pounding and attempting to make any possible sense of the impossible just wasn't possible. It only made things worse. "You've just got to endure and proceed." That was my dad's go to pick-me-up saying. When the going got tough, he'd just say that and act as if nothing was wrong. I also seem to recall Mom once saying something along the lines of "Contemplating too long on ones own frailties only leads to a shift in mood and morals, which calls for further contemplation. Take a breath, take a step, and break the cycle." They're stronger and smarter than I'll ever be. If I ever get out of here, I'm going to go back home and apologize for the way that I had left without any explanation. I just hope they can forgive me after all these years.

It had been long enough for Darling to give me a response but she had said nothing, either that, or the communications were still faulty and the link had been severed again. I wiped the spit from my mouth with the back of my blood-soaked hand and turned my back to the gruesome scene in the labs. Back out in the medical wing, I had scrounged around various cabinets and found a bottle of sterile saline to disinfect the wound on my hand before wrapping it with bandages. Now with my wounds tended to and Karazija's computer properly cleaned and stored in my pack, I continued onward.

The route Darling and her crew had planned out still appeared the same as when they uploaded it to my helmets HUD via Insight. It was a relief to see something was the same as I'd remembered. Though, it wasn't as simple as a beacon or line to follow, I was constantly referencing still images of crudely etched drawings. All of this relying on Darling's memory. As I left the medical wing, I passed through an abandoned security check station, just as the route indicated. Peering through the glass into the security room uncovered blank unpowered monitors and computer systems. Not a single firearm or ammo cache in sight. I'd have to make do with what Rayna had equipped me with. Stepping back from the glass, my light crawled around the room. More evidence of another firefight. Bullet holes, laser burns, but not a single body alive or otherwise.

"Montresor, do you read me? Please respond!" Darling's voice startled me. She sounded distraught.

"Loud and clear, my Darling." My attempt at a joke to lighten the mood. I was never good at timing them correctly though. Wildly inappropriate at the best of times and disgustingly disturbing at the worst.

"What the hell happened? You went dark AGAIN!" A response that both confused me and proved that my joke did in fact not land.

I casually strolled around the open lobby in front of the security check station, investigating nothing in particular as to avoid standing awkwardly still while talking to the disembodied voice in my helmet.

"There must be some sort of interference down here or maybe the communication systems are dropping with the power fluctuations. I'm fine though, all things considered. Just got a bit dizzy. I'm near the security check now."

She didn't like my answer. "I told you to report back here for a check up! Dizziness and confusion aren't good signs Maul. If we lose you out there I—" There was the sincere tone in her voice again. I was "Montresor" until she was concerned, then I'm "Maul" all the sudden. This likely derived from self preservation on her part. I was their best chance of shutting down the jammers and finally getting that S.O.S. call out.

"Thing's are fine. I'm fine. Stop worrying."

The line went dead silent again. I thought I had cut her off mid sentence but maybe that was the link severing. It didn't matter. According to the route, I had a long walk down a branching hallway before I'd reach the SLF maintenance dock. That's where this faux sense of gravity will be dispelled and I'll have to rely on my magboots again.


"Somethings Wrong"

"ƃuoɹM sƃuᴉɥʇǝɯoS"



A dense fog rolled in around my feet engulfing the hallway floor until it was nothing more than a memory. A memory I'd have to trust if I'd planned on making it through. Perhaps this was a result of a pipe bursting somewhere within the walls of the ship or maybe the depths of hell have formed beneath my feet and have come to take me home at last. Soon my entire vision became the fog, I could see nothing else. Each step forward became a cautious measure. I had to trust that I'd reach an end soon and find the fork that'd lead me to the maintenance dock. The only sound to exist here was the sound of my boots clanking on the metal floor and my pack rattling on my back.

"Darling? You there?" I called out, hoping to have a voice, another sound, to help calm me. There was no response.

Just then a small but bright light became visible through the fog towards the end of the hallway causing memories of Jackson's Lighthouse to surface. I'd visited that place more times than I could remember at this point. A beautiful, yet terrifying vista. It had become a place of remembrance for me. Multiple times a year I'd go there to pay respects to my lost. Every Oct 29th, I'd share a Lavian Brandy with Jackson's Lighthouse, Jan 22nd, a Barron's Head, Sep, 19th Hondo Sake, and Aug 14th, a strawberry milkshake. Our paths had once collided and collapsed into one another and amongst that mess, they proved to be the brightest of lights, a guiding force.

As fast as the light had brought comfort, it then brought dread and terror. The light spread into the fog becoming flame, ignis fatuus. I was foolish to believe that anything present on this ship would bring me a semblance of comfort but correct in that the fog was truly hell coming for me at last.

I closed my eyes.

A bright red light F̷̢̛̣͓͓̓̚L̸̨̉͌͝͠A̷̬͛͐Ḿ̸͙̯͂E̵̡̜̯̽ came into existence at the bottom of the pit E̷̛̗̤̠͓̚N̴̜͌D̸͖̠̏̏ ̴͍̮͆ͅO̷͇͓̟̩͘F̸̛͈̹͙̪̄̆ ̸̹̲̹̏̉̚͜T̸̗̿̀̄̕H̶̯͕̝̐E̸̡̫͌́́͝ ̴̼̳̻͋H̶̳̘̖͗̈́Ȁ̴̭̞̇̎͠Ĺ̸̤͖́́L̶̞̫̪̠̊̎W̷̖̯̹͗͂̅͘A̸͉̲͙̓͝͝Y̷̩̥͒̈́̓. It was as if it fazed into this reality from another. Where it had been glowing for an eternity. As bright as it had always been and as bright as it would ever be. I squinted my eyes, blocking the light F̷̢̛̣͓͓̓̚L̸̨̉͌͝͠A̷̬͛͐Ḿ̸͙̯͂E̵̡̜̯̽ with my left hand R̸͍̊̾Ì̶͎̣̽̽Ǧ̵̞̖̫̃Ḧ̷̻́T̵̟̺̹͝ ̷̢͍̈́H̵̝̮̯̓͊̒A̶̦̝̝̾̍̅N̴̤̟͑̚Ḋ̷̦͑ and tried to see the source of it, but to no avail C̵̬͐̏͗Ą̵̫̊̋͊͆͜ͅŮ̷̖́T̷̲̔E̸̻͇͊̋̾͐R̵͕̦͉̝̊̀̋̀Į̴͍̋Z̸̳̭̼̯͐̆̊E̵̐͜D̷͙̿͠ ̸̜̳̙̦͛̽M̶̧̦̈́Y̸̧͍̓ͅ ̵̭̋̾͘͜W̸̩͗͝Ờ̶̰̣̓͌Ư̵͓̱̈́Ņ̵̩͂͋̈́͛D̴̝̤͇͗. My suits temperature readings began to climb rapidly, the voice assistant warning me of the dangerous temperatures. Turning my attention back to the light F̷̢̛̣͓͓̓̚L̸̨̉͌͝͠A̷̬͛͐Ḿ̸͙̯͂E̵̡̜̯̽, it appeared to be moving rapidly upwards towards me. Too fast to react. There was nowhere to run but I was already there. Nowhere I was quickly engulfed in the red. It embraced me. There was nothing else now. No pit. No me. Nothing. My suit began to flake off of my body in pieces, floating ever upwards. My skin soon began to follow. I felt no pain. I felt nothing. I became it.


I'd seen this before, but something was different.
˙ƃuoɹʍ sɐʍ ƃuᴉɥʇǝɯos ʇnq3 'ǝɹoɟǝq sᴉɥʇ uǝǝs p,I




M̵̡̢̫̰͖̱̹͓̫̰̘̹͈̝̈́̀̌͒͠O̵̡̨̨̝̟͇̝̗̱͎̹̭̣̖̿̊̀̀̿̓́̕͘͘̕͜͝ͅͅͅT̶̓͐̏̐̏̾̀͛̕͝͠ͅH̴̹̰̣̜͇͆́̇̔̓̃̑̅̾̍̉̚͘͝É̴̛̬͗͐͌̄̈́̏̀͋̃̓̋͆̈̂̚͝͝R̴̛͙̥̩̪͎̘̞̱̠̙̯̜̪̪̹̆̈́͆̓̈́̀̍̿̓͝ ̵̡̨̨̢̫̥̜͉̥͍̝̮͕̥͍̦͎̹̅̋̔̿̈́̽̽̅̀͊̕͝͝Ḩ̸̨̛̜̦̫̝͍̦̥͉͚̬̼̘͕̳̼͑͆̃̇͑̋̂̀̾͒̊̀͘Ą̸̢̛̛̤̘̰̙͔͓̠͖̺̦̥̲̦̱͈̥̳͒͛́̏̀͗̃̉̕͠T̴̗̭̘̈́́͑͑͗̆̂̅E̷̪̝̳̹̭͂Ṥ̷̡̲͍̙̞͎̪͍̙͙̰̰͖̯̱̭̀̎͂̇̉́̋̓̏̍̐͆̊͜͝͝ͅ ̵̡̼̗̮̬̖̤̳̪̋̆͆́̓̓̏̈́̆͋͑̕͜͝ͅĄ̵̧̛͎̗̣̼͕̝̱̺̖̼̙̯̐͂̒̽ ̷̛̛̳̆̆̆̑̊͒̎̊̅́͌̅͌͘̕͠M̵̫̯̮̀̓͆́̈́͂͛̏͌͐͗̒͠͝Á̴̡͉̝̟̘̲̩Ŗ̶̧̪͚̣̠̥̦͎͚͚̦͕̞̟͍̌̅̍̔͊͜ͅṰ̷̟̯̯̹͛͠Ỳ̵̡͋̎́̀̿͒̽͌́͂̈́͒̍̓͊͘͠R̵̨͙̙̞̳̠̜̠̬̼̤͇̹͕͕̯̬̠̊̈́ͅ





Something
was
ƃuᴉssᴉɯ2
and
ʇou1
found.


I opened my eyes and the fog was gone, flame was gone, the light no more. I stood alone in the hallway I'd been traversing.

"What the fuck is happening to me?"

I could see the end of the hallway now. Both ends to be exact. It was now shorter, or never as long as I thought It had been. And now a very obvious indicator at the fork in the hallway directed me towards the SLF maintenance dock. I followed the sign that guided my route and drew nearer my next checkpoint. The closer I grew to the dock, the more weightless I began to feel. Markings on the floors and walls of the hallway warned of the incoming change in gravity. I engaged my magboots and continued on without issue.

After a short struggle with the door lock and stopping to expend one of my two battery cells, I was in the dock. What I'd expected to see upon entering this massive factory-esque room was numerous SLF's ready to be used and even more spare parts categorized and in stock for repairs and reconstructions. Unfortunately what I saw was quite the opposite. The room was near barren. Mangled sheets of metal and an abundant of unrecognizable tools were floating around the room. Not a single thing resembling an SLF here. Even worse was the fact that I couldn't contact Darling to ask why. I'd tried several times to reach her but each attempt a failure.

On the opposite side of the vast cold metal wasteland, stood a door that mirrored|d̶e̸r̸o̴r̸r̸i̵m̴ the one I had entered. Crossing the room, making sure to carefully avoid floating debris, I approached the door only to discover that it too was locked. I didn't want to waste suit power if I didn't have to. I'd needed as much as possible if I had expected to pass through the exposed sector C and reach the the control room with enough oxygen. There had to be another way to power the door. A place like this must have some sort of backup power source.

As I turned to begin a sweep of the room for a some sort of power control panel, I froze in place. Three men in maintenance jumpsuits stood shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the floor I'd just crossed. I couldn't speak, even if I'd tried. I slowly raised my hands to show I meant no harm to them but jumped back as one of them stepped toward me. My boots releasing their attachment briefly before slamming back onto the metal surface, jolting my body. That's when I noticed his steps weren't making a sound. Then he had stopped, staring at me. I gazed back with my hands still half in the air, watched for a sign I knew was already coming; A hitch in the holo projection. This man wasn't here at all, I was reacting to what was merely an overengineered security clip from the past. Letting down my guard, I walked past the projections to continue my search. The one previously stepping towards me had approached the door I was fiddling with and was now beating on it with his fists. The holo's here projected no audio for some reason, odd considering the ones back in the concourse did. However, this was a new tech in development, there were bound to be issues.

A few minutes passed as I searched the room for some way to power the door. Eventually finding myself in the control room that overlooked the maintenance floor, randomly flipping switches and pressing buttons. Then a sudden loss of power. The enormous room became an inky black void. I tried to convince myself that this was proof of progress. That I'd covered enough ground to start visibly seeing the fluctuations in power. It didn't help a bit considering I'd rather be anywhere else than here. The darkness, the stillness, just helped to further exacerbate my feelings of loneliness.

I turned on my light and glanced around the room. When shined out into the dock, the beam proved useless in penetrating the heavy darkness. I started to sing quietly to protest the relentless silence. Hoping to take my mind off of the restless anxiety clawing it's way up my esophagus.

"I don't feel a thing
And I stop remembering
The days are just like moments turned to hours

Mother used to say
If you want, you'll find a way—
"

A bright flash of light from the darkness illuminated the room for just a moment before vanishing again. Something hit the tip of my nose. Water? I shined my light above looking for a leaking pipe but saw nothing but the same blank cold metal surface I'd seen time and time again on this ship. Even if there had been a pipe, it wouldn't drip down onto me like that. Not without some form of gravity. Before I could even finish the thought, suddenly more water sprinkled onto my face and another flash of light lit the room. This time I could have sworn I'd seen something out there. I spun and kneeled down behind the control room switch board and tried to shake these hallucinations that felt all too real. The clawing and scratching inside growing more and more intense. I wanted to scream.




"""M̵̡̢̫̰͖̱̹͓̫̰̘̹͈̝̈́̀̌͒͠O̵̡̨̨̝̟͇̝̗̱͎̹̭̣̖̿̊̀̀̿̓́̕͘͘̕͜͝ͅͅͅT̶̓͐̏̐̏̾̀͛̕͝͠ͅH̴̹̰̣̜͇͆́̇̔̓̃̑̅̾̍̉̚͘͝É̴̛̬͗͐͌̄̈́̏̀͋̃̓̋͆̈̂̚͝͝R̴̛͙̥̩̪͎̘̞̱̠̙̯̜̪̪̹̆̈́͆̓̈́̀̍̿̓͝ ̵̡̨̨̢̫̥̜͉̥͍̝̮͕̥͍̦͎̹̅̋̔̿̈́̽̽̅̀͊̕͝͝Ḩ̸̨̛̜̦̫̝͍̦̥͉͚̬̼̘͕̳̼͑͆̃̇͑̋̂̀̾͒̊̀͘Ą̸̢̛̛̤̘̰̙͔͓̠͖̺̦̥̲̦̱͈̥̳͒͛́̏̀͗̃̉̕͠T̴̗̭̘̈́́͑͑͗̆̂̅E̷̪̝̳̹̭͂Ṥ̷̡̲͍̙̞͎̪͍̙͙̰̰͖̯̱̭̀̎͂̇̉́̋̓̏̍̐͆̊͜͝͝ͅ ̵̡̼̗̮̬̖̤̳̪̋̆͆́̓̓̏̈́̆͋͑̕͜͝ͅĄ̵̧̛͎̗̣̼͕̝̱̺̖̼̙̯̐͂̒̽ ̷̛̛̳̆̆̆̑̊͒̎̊̅́͌̅͌͘̕͠M̵̫̯̮̀̓͆́̈́͂͛̏͌͐͗̒͠͝Á̴̡͉̝̟̘̲̩Ŗ̶̧̪͚̣̠̥̦͎͚͚̦͕̞̟͍̌̅̍̔͊͜ͅṰ̷̟̯̯̹͛͠Ỳ̵̡͋̎́̀̿͒̽͌́͂̈́͒̍̓͊͘͠R̵̨͙̙̞̳̠̜̠̬̼̤͇̹͕͕̯̬̠̊̈́ͅ"""




A voice that had been residing in my head had now found it's way out. A door left unlocked. Taking physical form in the darkness and speaking in a tongue unlike any I'd ever heard before but one I somehow knew very well.

The sound of pouring rain quickly replaced any trace of silence that was left and was now accompanying the ever reverberating voice from the creature's constant hissing/slithering/guttural mantras.


"""S̴̰̾ȯ̴͍ṁ̵̻e̸̛͖ť̵̢h̴͔̎ḭ̴̒n̸̛̠g̶̲̒s̵̠̊ ̴͇̏w̷̮͝r̶͖̀ơ̴̫n̷̜̈́ğ̵̠,̵̞̈́ ̵̡̎n̵̙̒ő̴̲t̵̥̒h̸̟̎ĩ̵̲ñ̵̬g̴̣͊s̷̺̈́ ̶̹̽ř̸͇í̷͙g̵͉̈́h̴̟̀t̷͖̎
̵̬͝
̷̺̊Ÿ̶͎́ō̵̬ŭ̴͕ ̴̜͝c̴̰̃a̸̱̎n̵̲̿'̶̺͝t̶̤̚ ̵͇̋c̴̲̄h̴̓͜ǎ̸̤n̴̜̆g̸͖͘e̴̟̓ ̵̡̈ḭ̴̒t̴̟͝,̵͕͐ ̸̲͝s̷̞̈́ǒ̵̟m̶̤̑e̷͔̕o̷̡̓n̷̠̂e̵̟̒ ̶̹́t̵̩̊r̸̠̀i̷̜͝e̸̗͂d̴͚̽
̷̰́
̶͈̑A̵̜̎ ̷̞͝ḏ̴̉a̸̟̋i̵͈͝l̸͓̈y̶͈̽ ̷̫̔b̵̡͌a̵̞̍t̵͍͋t̵̕͜ĺ̷͈e̴̩̍,̷͇̈́ ̶̮̿ä̸͙ ̷̨̋c̷̫̕o̴͓͠n̴̿͜s̸̭̍t̴̥͐ạ̶̑ṋ̷͘ṯ̶̐ ̶̦̒f̵̘̅i̷͇̿ǵ̷̥h̸̻͑t̸̮̐
̸̡̿
̴̗͆D̷̦͆ä̴͙́ṙ̸ͅl̸̼̃i̵̞̐ņ̶̔g̶̺͐,̵̆ͅ ̴̟̑ḋ̷ͅé̴̻s̶̔͜t̵̹́ĩ̴̘n̵̝̑ẏ̷̗ ̸͉̓c̷̤͐â̶̝n̷̖͐'̵̘̕t̴̯̊ ̸̥͝b̵̭̅e̷͎͝ ̴̟̾ḋ̵̯e̶̮̒n̴͙̈́ī̶̡ê̴̬d̶̪͗"""


It spoke and


I
heard

it

well

lᴉɐʍ

ʇᴉ

pɹɐǝɥ

I

puɐ ǝʞods ʇI



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