No ratings.
An introduction to my unfinished, complex work. The focuses are philosophy and psychology. |
0 Setting the Scene Mutilated and still, he hung before me. His neck held by a rope to suspend him above the floor. Despite the hanging it was clear someone else had been involved, his hair was torn from his head, patches of his scalp had been taken with its. Multiple stab wounds spanned across the abdomen, and his chest had been torn open from the outside, his innards revealed. I would be suspected. There's no way I could be ignored. They're a team, they won't doubt one of their own until they have no other choice. It's me or someone that isn't among us from their point of view. To them, I can only mean harm, criminals inviting themselves into my home, they can only see that far, but I already know who it is, saying anything will just raise more suspicions about me, but silence won't help either. As an amateurish detective once proclaimed: “Not being suspicious just makes you seem suspicious.” Which, when applied to the fact that a suspicious person is suspicious, means that no one can dodge the blanket of suspicion. This would be true if I were surrounded by something other than dimwitted failures. To have committed a crime is something that shows their lack of intellect. Unfortunately they will blame me, if anyone objects they will be tossed aside and then their 'colleagues' will point out one of the flaws that they all have as if it's specific to that person. This is how lesser beings work. This is also one of the flaws with this world's system. It can be exploited to some extent but it's less flexible than needed, so much so that I have grown tired. This world, is boring. 1 Worlds The number of worlds that have disappointed me with what shows to be an interesting character, only for their actions to be predictable. The number of worlds that have sparked my interest far surpass that of the amount that I have enjoyed for even an insignificant amount of time. A long time in the past, I learned how to create worlds and basic characters that develop and so I used that ability in an attempt to create a world worthy of my presence. However, after so long; I gave up. Unless I discover how I can regain access to the systems that run the void then I will be forced into mixing in among minor worlds. It doesn't matter if they are boring, interesting or even if they have one of my companions from the past- no matter what aspects of the world hold my attention, I still have to wait. Wait until I meet another being at my level, or possibly even more knowledgeable than me on the workings of the void. This 'other' is someone that should be detectable the instant it arrives in the world I reside in at the time meaning that the chances of meeting are very slim, I simply have to hope it's tastes are similar to mine. Another problem with the possibilities of meeting is that if it's casting is different then even if we share preferences such as the reality of worlds, then there's a chance that it may not be able to distinguish between whether or not the world is real and may not even be aware of the differentiation between real and false worlds. “If I cared about my duty I wouldn't be here right now, all I care about is myself and Alice.” It was but a man, standing before what appeared to be a very wealthy person who looked down upon this being and his objection. The original purpose of this conversation mattered not to me, all that I needed was a good entrance to this world. “Then you are no longer useful to me, in fact, you are now a risk which doesn't need to remain.” The confident and warning reply from the wealthier man shot back to the other. “If you think you can get me then just try it.” Covering his face with a mask of confidence, trying to put himself on the same level as his opponent, but it was an obvious act, given away by his slow gestures and the fact that he poised himself in preparation for defence. “Where I a coward, I'd have someone else take care of you, however; I can deal with you myself.” He raised his arms slightly, readying himself to attack. Now I would make my appearance. Hopefully the divergence number would change to include me. “You are an unsightly pair.” A woman, stealing my would-be spotlight, spoke in a manner that told me something was about to happen. She raised her hand to shoulder height only to throw it back down in a whip-like action resulting in the wealthy man being torn in two. A witch had arrived. The remaining human stared in awe at the witch, then switched to the pieces of the man, and then back to the witch. My entrance was still feasible. The witch raised her hand again, then, as she began the slashing action I stood between her and the man, my hand clenched around a grey force. A muted gasp from the witch arose while the man continued to stare past me in the witch's direction. I tightened my grasp, the grey force shrunk and slowly faded until it was entirely gone. Her expression showed shock. There was an long silence. To ensure my success the release of certain information may have been required; I took action because of this. “Would you mind telling me who you are? A witch in this world was unexpected, especially considering the restrictions.” I decided to begin by letting her know that I was more than just an ordinary world-bound soul, in case she hadn't realized from the way in which I erased the grey force. “An old witch, my name now is Alice. But such minor information is worthless, what of you? You overpowered my 'death'.” “And? You created it.” “Are you an angel?” “Try a demon. Maybe things are too vague for you.” I couldn't bother myself with holding back, all that mattered was I got the divergence number to change; thus my blunt statement. “That would be correct, why don't you enlighten me on the subject?” She was almost sarcastic while asking that question. “I'll put it this way, the passing of time... the taking of time, they no longer hold any meaning to me.” “So you are just an angel?” She didn't seem to be aware of the way in which inter-world travelling beings worked. Her expectations seemed too high. “Never mind. A real question would be: Why hasn't the divergence number changed?” “It didn't need to.” Her understanding of the working of the void seemed to be lacking too. “Well it does for me.” I glanced behind me, the parts of the dead old man merged into one goo-like substance and reformed as the man who had died. "Why are you-" I grabbed Alice and warped over to where I had hidden previously. After she had finished complaining and had given up on trying to get back to the other two men, I waved my hand in the direction of the two men; changing their positions to what they had been before the witch interfered. The two continued exactly from where they left off and a fight began. The rebellious man appeared to be winning. As the battle seemed to be closing the wealthy man put his hand in his inner coat pocket and pulled out a handgun. He held it to his foe's head, smirked, and pulled the trigger. The gunshot was surprisingly loud, no effort had been taken to cover it up from the outside world. The wielder stood there, waiting for his enemy to collapse, for his blood to drop. “Looking for this?” I asked, holding up a bullet. The 'gah' I had been waiting for arose from the two. As they looked at me the world's frame shifted, everything but the witch and myself was moving. Then we rejoined the movement of the world. The two men were gone and all that remained were the two parts of the man previously killed by the witch. “Are you happy now?” “I guess so. But I'm still at a loss as to what a witch is doing in such a dull world.” “Killing boredom.” “Witches haven't improved much I see.” “Perhaps, but now that I've answered your questions, answer mine: What are you?” “That is a difficult question to answer accurately. I'm an anomaly within the void. That's the easiest way to put it.” “The void?” “Ah, sorry, 'the library' as it's know to you.” “An anomaly? You could be interesting.” “Yeah," I scoffed, "I've heard that before. Your kind really hasn't changed over the past few hundred years.” “Not really, I'm just more like my ancestors.” “What, ugly and unworthy of conversation?” I joked, insultively “Except for those,” “So you won't deny the build up of-” “-And anything else that used to be bad about us.” “What about the cruelty?” An awkward silence once again crept into the conversation. She was thinking of how to answer. I felt that I knew what she really thought. “So you're just a pacifistic witch, a rather odd-” “No!" She objected. "I'm the cruelest type of witch, a witch of cycles.” “Oh...” Words worth spilling were gone from me. I considered a change in the tone of the discussion, but my curiosity intervened. “Is that was this was?” I pointed behind me at the split body. There was a prolonged pause. “...Yes...” “Well it's over now, the divergence number has been changed. If it's worth anything you can follow me around. Hmph, maybe you'll pick up one of my many valuable talents.” She looked like she wanted to draw back the previous conversation, but then must have considered this a chance to escape. “Really?!” Her forced joy was well acted, perhaps it was real and had simply been enlarged. “Yeah, there's no reason not to. Just don't do anything annoying.” “What could I possibly do to annoy you?” I found the lack of sarcasm in the witch's voice rather concerning. “So, can we leave now?” “Surely you know how to leave a world by yourself?” “Of course! But I don't what kind of casting you've got.” “You know about castings? Maybe witches have changed. Anyway, that might not matter, let's just go.” “This isn't working. Let's go back to figure out what we're doing.” I shouted up to the witch. “I agree. We should have thought about this before we entered.” To me, Alice was warping to seemingly random locations and to her, I was (most likely) doing the same. This was the result of different castings of the void. As far as my knowledge goes the casting of the void is different for each group (rather than each person), to witches the void is a collection of shards floating around in nothingness as groups of the respective world's world line, this allowed them to enter any world line that already existed for that group of shards as well as see the differences in their content. Having seen (and discussed the matter with) only two groups that can travel throughout the void, myself and witches, I have no way of telling whether or not the void's casting is unique to groups or if it's based upon how one's mind works, what I do know, is that different castings show different attributes of the world. For example, my casting, which is a cylindrical space, is ordered by the reality of worlds. This means I can pick whether I want a false world or a real world for myself, however, the witches can select between world lines- which would open up multiple possibilities. “Head back to the world from which we came.” And so we did, we returned to the world that Alice had previously toyed with. “What are we going to do about selecting a world?” She asked as if I hadn't already been thinking about it. An irritating property for anyone to have, but in my long life I had become used to such annoyances. “We might have to stay in this world for a while. but first there's a few things we need to try first.” “Like what?” “Well, what happens if you grab my arm and then move while in the void? Things that could trick the system but probably won't. That's what I'm talking about.” We warped back into the void. “OK, I'll stay where I am, you come over to me and grab my arm.” She warped over to a location that was far from me. Then I watched as she grabbed for nothingness. “It's... strange. I can put my hand right through you, but I can see you right in front of me.” “Yeah, well, from my point of view you're really high up. We need to try something else now.” “What will it be this time?” The idea that I thought would work had failed. It was a failure that I should have predicted. The positions presented in a casting are different at what doesn't seem to have any logical order. For example, if my position is 12 in my casting, then I could be at position 31 in Alice's. But if I move to position 13 in my casting, then I could end up at position 3 in Alice's casting. Such meant that while she was at my position minus 1 in her casting, she was at a completely different position in mine meaning that she would touch me and yet she would not. It may as well have happened but it didn't. But the void works with certainties. As such, if something didn't happen then it would not be counted. There are worlds that this theory would have proven true in, but not the void itself. “Put your hand into a world line.” As she did, the hand that I was seeing just disappeared. “It didn't do anything, just take it out.” “What are you trying to do anyway?” “Doesn't matter. I'm simply killing time.” I made my tone sarcastic so that she'd know that wasn't what I was really doing. “The next thing I want to try is possession. I'm sure you know all about it seeing how you're a witch.” Another one of those awkward moments had managed to settle into what we were talking about. She had that face that showed she was unsure of what to say. There wasn't really anything I could say to help other than to show her that I could tell what she really was like on the matter. “Well, this way you'll already learn something new. I'll do it at a witch standard so that you can use it yourself.” “Really!” An excited witch was something I wasn't used to. Usually they cover up their emotion with acts of cruelty, but this one, she was different. “Yeah, you got some paint, or a strong stone, or anything that can be used for writing?” “No,” “What the hell kind of witch are you!? You should be carrying something for writing arou- Wait a second, don't tell me you can't use symbols.” “Then I won't say anything.” “Oh God. Ah well, there's a first time for everything. Here.” I held out an inkless pen. “Try writing something.” She scribbled in the air and a green line soon followed where the tip had been. “You see, witches don't need magic pens or sticks to draw their symbols, it's just one of those things that are good for one's image. So to get you one step ahead I gave you a magic pen with a delay setting.” “Delay?” “The green line didn't appear until after you had scribbled.” “Well what's the point? Then it'll just take longer to cast my symbol.” “No, I thought of that, the area of application will recognize the symbol as soon as you finish drawing it. The average time for a symbol to finish activation is about as long as it takes for that green line to appear. It's all something that's used for effect, which if you're not very good with then you'll be getting lots of lessons on that while you hang around me.” “OK...” She probably didn't understand. Even the witches that do use special items to draw symbols don't fully understand why. For me it's more of a personal preference than a useful tool, but it can show use in some situations. “I'll show you a basic symbol.” I revealed an ordinary pen and paper to Alice and on the paper I drew a pentagram with three symbols in the gaps between each point of the star in the circle. “You have to memorize these if you want to look good while drawing it. If you're not fluid in your drawing then the green line will appear before you finish; which would look bad.” She began drawing in the air slowly, but as soon as the green line appeared she started messing up. After a few tries she finished it, but only after the green line had appeared. “Nothing happened.” “No, it did, you just need didn't see it. Draw on the ground.” And so she did. This time the middle of the shape bulged slightly and then went back down. “It worked!” Astonishment was another thing that didn't often come from witches, especially when it's their own magic, in most cases they are beings that are full of pride that will cover their real emotions with an act, Alice however seemed different. “Of course it worked. But it wasn't very large. This is where I teach you something that only some of the most powerful witches know of. It's about how magic works.” I thought that teaching a lesser witch something ahead of her would be good for her advancement, for if she was like me, then she would want to understand why it works. “It's a similar concept to exorcisms.” “What? How does that work?” “Different religions say different things about how an exorcism is carried out, yet most of them work anyway. Have you never wondered why that is?” “Well it was because all of the methods were true.” “Not really. In actuality none of those methods are the way of exorcising a demon or ghost. If I were a religious leader and I told my most devoted and capable followers that the way to exorcise a demon is to whack it's origin, be it a corpse or gateway, with a golden spoon and they believed it entirely, then doing that would work. Why is this?” “Well I don't know do I?” “No, you wouldn't really. It all comes down to two main factors: Intention and resistance. Resistance is something that can only be mildly affected by the happenings of one's life so if you are born with a high resistance then you will most likely remain with a high resistance. Resistance, as the name implies, controls how resistant someone or something is to the effects of anything outside of their world's restrictions. Oh! Seeing how you're new to symbols you probably won't know much about restrictions either.” “No, my knowledge on that matter is rather limited.” “Basically, each world has restrictions which say what can and can't be done. For example if a world had a symbol restriction, then you wouldn't be able to cast symbols. Fortunately most worlds don't have complete restrictions, they usually have softeners which, say there was a symbol softener, would lower the effects of the symbol being used, this also makes it more difficult to cast.” “So would that be why witches avoid certain worlds?” “Pretty much, most witches are cowards and can't stand restrictions on symbols, that's also why you shouldn't become reliant on them.” “OK, then what's intention?” Such a change was welcome from her, I myself would be unable to change the sway of a conversation so abruptly. “Intention is pretty self explanatory too, it's the desired effect of what's being done. For something like this,” I lifted my right index finger and a small flame started burning on it's tip. “The intention was to make a flame, my resistance is incredibly low so I don't need a strong intention to produce it.” “But with the symbol I drew I didn't know what it was going to do.” “This is where our vocabulary gets in the way. From now on you need to refer to the library as the void.” “Okay...” “Basically, when there is a vague intention, such as your intention of doing whatever the symbol you were drawing does, then the world will link to the library, this isn't your library of shards, this is a library of information. Whether or not the link to this library is sustainable depends on the restrictions of the world and the resistance of the user. The library is like another void, except all of the worlds have been replaced with information and all of the world lines have been replaced with headings. These headings designate blocks in the information that do something. This means that the executed operation went like this: Your intention made this world link to the library. Then, the symbol you drew told the library what information to look for, that was the pentagram shape. After that, the three markings around the star told the world what the header should be like. Finally the information is brought back to the world that asked for it and is used accordingly.” “But how does the symbol thing work?” I'm glad she's asking these questions, it means that she is like me after all. “In the pentagram 'constellation', as I call the information sections of the library, the top left symbol shows the effect, the bottom symbol shows the thing that is going to be effected and the top right symbol shows the magnitude. That top left symbol you drew means manipulation, the bottom one says to effect the area in which the symbol is drawn, and the one on the right says to be at a magnitude related to the size. The pentagram constellation is one of the easiest to understand so it used to be taught to beginners a lot. However, eventually the number of witches that traveled throughout the void dropped considerably leaving only the more powerful ones survived, but they had little care for teaching the new ones how things worked, they only taught them that doing 'this' did 'that' and then it would be accepted.” Alice's face once again held that expression that showed she was unsure of what to say. “Anyway, I can't be bothered teaching you possession now so when we get to the next world just play around with the pentagram symbol. I'll give you a list of symbols when we get there.” “But we still can't get to another world together...” “Nah, I was just curious about a few things so I held you up, but now I'm bored so we're going to leave.” An expression of confusion stretched across her face and was almost immediately replaced with frustration. She was particularly bad at hiding her thoughts and emotions. “You wait here while I go find an interesting world, then I'll come back and we can go there.” “Umm... How?” “Doesn't matter, anyway I've just found a good looking world, let's go.” I put my hand on her shoulder and closed my eyes. “What!? But h-” She tried to complain but then we left. That was a rather... odd dream. I open my eyes. The room around me is the same. Nothing has changed. Nothing has moved. For that matter, there was little that could move, yet I always hoped for it: A difference in this unchanging room. Every second, awake or otherwise, my hopes are dismissed by the will of the room. They are constructed only to get demolished. The sad system that is everything. At one point or another, things end. Despite this inevitability they thrive and struggle through their existence. It cannot be called bravery. More like foolishness. But it's true meaning is most likely beyond such description. Ironically, I will simply call it ignorance. Questions about the stillness of the room rise within my head. Why does it not change? Is it missing something? What would it take? But these questions, they feel like I've made them to hide the truth: This room is not changing. No amount of nothingness can affect something. Emptiness only ever influences that which is not physical. Like the difference between Heaven and Hell, if Heaven influenced Hell, it would no longer be hell. And would Hell influence Heaven, it would no longer be Heaven. As I dismiss these thoughts I rise from the floor. A bed would be nice, but I don't feel comfort that other people do. If I can dream on the floor then I probably don't need a bed anyway. I look up at the door, I realise I didn't check it when I awoke. My hopes build. Had it changed? Again, dismay stabs at my mind. No difference, but neither does it matter. I lazily approach it, lifting my hand to clutch the handle. Then as I push down, my weight pushes the door open. I see something behind the door as I'm opening it, but as the space that had been obscured by the door becomes clear, the object disappears. My imagination? There's no reason to suspect otherwise, but still, my curiosity has been sparked. Less curiosity as it is more for my imagination to feed off of. Questions for myself, challenges for myself distract my other thoughts. What was it that I saw? It was more like I hadn't seen it, and yet it's presence was confirmed. Much like the way my hopes are always destroyed, whatever it was I saw was not actually there. And yet, it's presence felt confirmed, so it was more painful when the presence I was so certain of showed itself as false. I am struck with an idea that would explain the moment back then: The presence was real. It just wants to be a false existence, so it shows itself as something non-existent. However, what I saw was no human, and only a human could have a sentient will such as that. As I try to fix my explanation, my flare of interest deteriorates. Again, leaving me to walk through this hallway. The changes in this hallway are as frequent as that room. If they do occur, I don't bear witness to them. The hallway opens into a wider space, with a table and chairs. A woman, my adoptive mother, sits upon the chair with it's back to me; the closest chair. "Good morning mother." No reply; as I would expect. Food has already been set out for me. I take my place at the table and unenthusiastically eat what has been put out for me. The silence beckons it's own end, unlike so much more in existence. "I had an odd dream last night." She scoffs, near enough beginning to choke on her food. She probably only thinks I'm trying to make conversation. In a way it's true, but I wasn't lying about my dream. It doesn't matter though, I had earned a reaction to my words, that was more than enough. However, my desire has gotten the better of me. "It was about magic and witches." I wait for a reaction like last time, but she only sits there, holding her silence while staring at me. A stare that feels like a warning, perhaps she dislikes me so much that she doesn't even want to hear my voice. I try once more. "I went to different dimensions and-" "STOP IT! Just shut up! You don't need to lie about things like that!" She stands from her chair and then walks out with her feet dropping heavily with every step. I went to far. But I'm not at fault, am I? Even my family. Never changing. Nothing is fresh. Nothing is renewed. And so it will all, inevitably, end. I finish my meal, only to grow tired again. I sleazily pace my way back to that stale, uninteresting room. I open my eyes. The room around me is the same. Nothing has changed. Nothing has moved. Nothing stands out from the usual state. I slowly rise from my comforting floor. What time is it? Does it matter to me? It shouldn't. But it does. Is it really unnecessary? Whatever may be brought about by knowing the time doesn't matter to me. As I'm not obtaining it. Nor do I desire it. I slowly approach my door. As I open it I remember what I saw yesterday. And then, while still in the midsts of my thoughts, it appears again. I turn my attention to whatever is behind the door, again, it disappears. What kind of insult is that? Mocking my desires and, in doing so, causing me a greater extent of dismay. I dismiss the thought, as I had previously, and leave the room. As I step out, my sleeve is caught on the handle of the door. I move ahead of it and am pulled around. It's there. I feel it clambering away from me. Fear, relief, joy, frustration: All these emotions shoot through me, passing at such a rate that I barely even feel them. I look shut the door violently in anger. But back at the doorway that I just stepped through, there is a flower petal. Is this it? Is this the change? "Perhaps so." A voice comes from behind me. "Or perhaps, you are waiting for something else." No, it's not behind me; I simply can't see it. "What is it you seek? What is it that has eluded your thoughts for so long?" It's coming from everything: The walls, the floor, the ceiling, the petal. "Is it something one can hold? Or is it something that cannot be seen? A feeling? A person?" "Wha- Where are you!?" "Can you not tell? I am here. That's all that matters. "Don't avoid my question! Where are you!?" "If you really wish to know, then I shall show you." A gap opens in the wall. No, its not a gap, it's the door from that room. The presence once again appears in the same manner, however, this time, it doesn't disappear. It stands there looking towards me with a gaze from the pits of agony and with the force of death. What is it that is standing before me? The room is different. There is no room. And yet there is something there. My mind begins to roll, questions pile up. Irrelevant thoughts try to block out what I am seeing. "This is- Is this... the same room?" "It is, yet it is not. Were it the same then there would be other traits that it would hold. Emptiness, that is all there was before, and now, there is something. It cannot be taken, or rather, it must be given. Could it be grasped there would be such conflict for it's possession. Enmity between humanity would be magnified to the brink of the telescopic endurance of the universe. No man could continue to clutch his sanity." |