Turpentine & Vetiver

28. Disrepair

-for we are not fighting against flesh and blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world.
                              — Ephesians 6:12

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   The void was constant; eternal. The red haze went on as far as the eye could see, and the gruesome citadels were decorated with bone and viscera. Thorn didn't know how far the horrible landscape of the void went- everything was a different shade of red- crimsons, scarlets, and rusty-browns; like the different stages of drying blood. The hellscape around him was populated by all sorts of wretched creatures- indescribably grotesque and terrifying. It was cold here, so cold- the days and nights bleeding into one, a congealed mass of time. Time was also different here; Thorn wasn't sure if he'd been in the Red Void for an hour, a day, a week...
   The abomination did not try to kill him- instead replaying all of his dark atrocities for him to watch- and Thorn couldn't help but watch; although he desperately wanted to, he could not seem to tear his eyes away from the grisly images- a tableau of murder and violence. He reckoned it meant to drive him to insanity, by showing him these transgressions on constant replay- however, Thorn was determined not to let the abomination win. Slowly, he was trying to figure out its weaknesses- if he could destroy the void from the inside, stop the evils perpetrated by the abomination- perhaps he would be able to escape, to see Inky again.
   Thorn knew she partially blamed herself for his disappearance into the void; and sometimes he could hear her voice, quietly talking to herself- or worse, crying inconsolably late at night when she couldn't sleep. He wished he could see her, and at first, he thought it was impossible. Then; the taunting, disembodied voice of the abomination was in his head -it never spoke out loud- yet he could hear it clearly. It told him everything he already knew, already hated about himself- mocking him endlessly; relentlessly. Thorn closed his eyes, attempting to shut it out, ignore it- and then it said something quite unexpected. It told him he could see Inky again, for a brief time- however, it required a blood sacrifice.
   I would do anything to see you again, Inky, he thought, holding out his arm to the abomination- no hesitation this time. He must have been in the void for at least a week already, because the cuts on his arm had healed, forming more scars; a constant reminder of his blood sacrifices. The scars looked worse than usual- the inside of his left forearm marked with the parallel and diagonal lines- it was a wonder he hadn't bled out, that day he went willingly into the Red Void. He knew he would have to do it- as the abomination grew stronger with each sacrifice.
   At first, he noticed; Inky had only cut her hand when he'd killed Dani. Then, the letter opener she'd stabbed into her leg after he killed Miranda. It seemed as though the void required a sacrifice from each of them- not only what Thorn had to offer. Since he killed- instead of cutting himself- the abomination usually didn't require his blood as well. He'd sent several people to the fate of the void, taking his place as fodder for the abomination and its aberrant cohorts. When he'd killed Cayson- this was the most violent of his murders- and as they escalated in intensity, so did Inky's self-inflicted injuries. He knew this time he'd done something beyond even the range of his own depravity- and with a foreboding feeling, realized that Inky, the parallel- would most likely die trying to appease the abomination.
   I wouldn't let you do that to yourself- I couldn't watch you die, Inky. This is why I willingly went into the Red Void- because you never deserved any of this. His contemplation was broken by the strange, sharp sensation of the abomination slicing open his arm again with a blade-like mechanism on its fingers. The being was partially mechanical, it appeared, some unholy conglomerate of flesh and metal parts, held together by pure evil. Thorn did not watch as the abomination collected his blood from the fresh incision- the foul entity laughed in his mind, its bloodlust seemingly satisfied for the time being. You have what you want- now let me see Inky, you told me it was possible. He could feel the blood running down his arm; absently wondering how deep the cut was. Then, as promised, the void faded away, and the red surroundings were replaced by the familiar grey walls of the dark building he once lived in.
   Inky sat on the tile floor, smoking a cigarette and leafing through a stack of black and white photos he recognized as his own work. The slaughterhouses, dead birds, city scenery. Thorn had hidden these photos away since the night he'd showed them to Isobel- and hadn't thought about them much since. Inky looked tired- she appeared paler than usual, the dark circles under her grey eyes more prominent, and she seemed to have lost weight. Thorn knew she probably hadn't been eating or sleeping much- she looked so sad and withdrawn; he wanted to tell her he was still alive, and planning how to be free of the void.
   She looked up from the photos for a moment, staring intently into the empty space in front of her. Perhaps she could sense his presence somehow. Thorn watched as she set the photos down on the glass coffee table, stubbing out the end of her cigarette in the green cut-glass ashtray. Inky walked into the bedroom, looking at the calendar on the wall in dismay, crossing off another day, staring at the rows of black X's in despair as she began to cry. Thorn looked at the date on the calendar again- surely this couldn't be right? It read 'November 12th' -his goddamn birthday- no wonder Inky was so upset.
   I haven't been in the void for that long- this isn't possible, I couldn't have been gone for over three months already... then, the surroundings shifted again, and he was back in the void once more. Well, I guess I've officially been alive for 27 years today- and I get to spend my birthday in the Red Void. Perhaps this was why the abomination allowed him to see Inky today- but most likely this wasn't the case.
   Later, Thorn found himself wandering across the barren red wasteland littered with bones- he wondered how many had died here, or been sentenced to an eternity of hell. It seemed as if he'd been walking for days- the never-ending crimson landscape all looked relatively the same, so he wasn't sure. The murky, stagnant pools of blood were too putrid with decay and pollution to show his reflection, which he assumed was just as well. Around him, the air smelled like rust and rotting meat- thick, choking, and repellent. Everywhere he went, he felt a peculiar sensation of being -watched- and he knew the repulsive beasts of the void were lurking somewhere nearby.
   You're a murderer, Thorn, his thoughts reminded him. You DO deserve this- no, you deserve WORSE than this. You deserve to be alone- one day, Inky will forget all about you, forget you exist as everyone else has done. You're a psychopath, after all- disgusting. How could you possibly be so irrational, so delusional- to actually believe anyone could ever LOVE somebody like you? So pathetic... Inky doesn't -really- love you, she's only had a temporary lapse of judgement. Soon, she'll realize how horrible you really are- and it's possible she will destroy herself in the process of erasing you from her mind... It's all your fault, and there's nothing you can do about it this time.
    Thorn knew these weren't actually -his- thoughts; merely horrible influences from the abomination, but they plagued his mind all the same, and he felt utterly hopeless- lost and alone. A part of him prayed for death, just so he could be spared this terrible place. He knew he would have to escape soon- because this endless mental torment would eventually drive him to insanity- and his broken mind wouldn't be able to recover. Thorn supposed then- once the abomination had succeeded in its task, he would die here in the void; having served his purpose.
   He refused to let it win, he'd use his destruction to his own advantage. Whatever the abomination intended, meeting Inky was the catalyst that forever changed what he was fated to do. Thorn knew he was supposed to kill her, to seal the Red Void forever- this was predetermined by whatever sick gods or demons. "I won't do what you want- I will never hurt Inky! I'd rather be here in this hell than be responsible for her pain. I only kill my betrayers and abusers- because I see the reflection of the abomination within them."
   At this moment, Thorn realized this was the first time in his life he'd admitted this so openly- and his confession was oddly freeing. He knew that he was a psychopath, and nothing could ever change that fact- but he realized everyone he'd killed had deserved it in one way or another- his abusive family; Isobel- who was disgusted by a byproduct of his sacrifices to the void, the junkie who'd tried to steal his personal property- these were all bad people. Then, Dani and Miranda- pretending to befriend Inky only to disrespect her and wish ill upon her. The worst was Cayson- not only did he try to destroy Inky's self-esteem by disregarding her art and hard work- but he was a pervert; a rapist- and Thorn knew his death was well-deserved.
   I don't feel guilty about killing any of them. My only regret is not figuring out a way to keep Inky safe- before this all happened. Thorn stood at the edge of a bloodstained precipice, the ground below littered with partially-chewed organs, discarded broken bones, and decaying corpses both human and otherwise. He leaned forward a bit too far, and found himself falling down through the noxious red clouds- panicking at first before realizing the unnatural gravity in the Red Void prevented him from hitting the ground. He stared up into the crimson sky overhead, suspended as a particle of matter without meaning, time slowing around him.
   He began to formulate his plan of somehow escaping, destroying the abomination without fatal consequences to himself or Inky. It wasn't impossible, only extremely convoluted. He wondered if the abomination would be able to sense his plot against it- although he stayed away from it as much as he could, tried to keep his mind carefully blank- so it might just work. As time passed confusingly around him, Thorn realized the first part of the plan to defeat the abomination involved blood -his own as well as Inky's- but it would be the last time either of them would ever have to do this again- provided it actually worked. Thorn prayed it would, he tried to bargain with a god he no longer believed in, because he refused to let the abomination control their lives any longer.

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               [ ONE YEAR LATER ]

   Countless days passed in the Red Void, and although Thorn sometimes felt that his mind had been broken beyond repair- he did not go insane, because he kept the image of Inky in his mind; closing his eyes and seeing her face whenever he was being tormented by the abomination. I need to get out of here, I want to see you again- more than anything I've ever wanted in my life. Then, surprisingly, Thorn did see her- a vision through the red haze of the void. Inky was in the dark building, lying on the cold tile floor- a half-empty gin bottle beside her. She was wearing one of his shirts; which she'd partially unbuttoned- she looked so pale and thin now, and the bones of her ribcage were visible.
   Inky looked tired- tired and drunk, which was rare since she wasn't really much of a drinker. Seeing her like this made Thorn profoundly sad- it was disturbing to see her in this fragile state. He watched through the void as she took a small, sharp blade off of the nearby table. Tears ran down her face, falling onto the tile. Oh, Inky- please don't do this to yourself- he watched helplessly as she stared at the blade, then ran her hand over her skin with a look of disgust in her eyes. It's NOT your fault, Inky.
   She slowly cut a thin line into her skin, across the side of her ribcage. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, an expression of dismay on her face- "that was BULLSHIT!" he heard her exclaim to the empty room. Bright crimson trails of blood slowly ran down her side and onto the tile floor, and Inky watched as if in a daze. Thorn wanted to reach through the void, take the sharp blade from her hand- hold her and tell her everything was okay, they were safe now- but instead he forced himself to watch as she cut herself again; the scalpel blade tracing a thin line above her heart. More blood rose to the surface of her pale skin, and Inky stared around in confusion- perhaps she could sense he was trying to reach her?
   After some time, she fell asleep on the floor, the blood drying on her skin. Thorn watched her sleep, feeling as though he could protect her in this way- at least watch to make sure she woke up again. At first; he was her stalker- and now he had designated himself as her protector. Besides- Thorn didn't need to sleep in the Red Void- any normal human functions were seemingly negated here. Her sleep was restless, and Thorn tried to wake her up- hoping she'd be spared of the nightmares she always seemed to have now. You need to wake up, Inky...
   Thorn watched her again the next day- at least it was the next day on the other side of the Red Void. Inky seemed hungover, but she went about her daily routine- cleaning off the blood, making herself coffee. He smiled as he watched her pour an excessive amount of sugar into the black coffee; it was almost like he was right there with her again. I promise I'm coming back- please don't give up. I can't watch you destroy yourself. I'm sorry you've been waiting for me... The atmosphere of the void seemed to shimmer and warp around him, and Thorn realized he could see through the veil and into reality once again. Had Inky's blood accidentally served as some sort of sacrifice to bring him back?
   She appeared to be getting ready to go out somewhere, and Thorn called her name, trying to catch her attention. He watched as she looked around in panic, trying to find the source of his voice. A dim red light shone in the dark hallway, and one of the lightbulbs overhead shattered onto the tile. "Inky?" he called, feeling a terrible pressure behind his eyes- what the hell is going on, now? "Who's there?" her voice was soft, and scared- please don't be afraid, it's only me- and then she was running, grabbing her keys and briefcase, slamming the black door and locking it- then he heard her drive away.
   It felt like he was falling endlessly- the strange gravity of the void surrounding him. Everything was so dark and so cold. Am I- dead now? Thorn wondered briefly, feeling as though he was still spiraling towards the abyss. The abomination was nowhere to be found- it had been avoiding or ignoring him recently- perhaps it had caught on to his plan to destroy it. Thorn watched as the layers of red light fell past him- the laws of physics obviously didn't apply here, and he felt a nauseating vertigo; heard a loud, whining hum in the air around him. There was a sudden, immense atmospheric pressure, and then everything went rushing by in a dizzying blur. Thorn closed his eyes, confused and extremely unsettled; this was, after all- a rather perplexing turn of events.
   When he opened his eyes again, he was surrounded by dark grey skies and cold black water- as far as the eye could see. It appeared he was on a beach somewhere- sprawled unceremoniously in the rocky tide pool. It was cold and wet, and he had seaweed in his hair- but somehow, he was alive- and back to reality. Thorn didn't know how he'd returned, or why- but he had to find Inky and tell her he was back, and this time- he'd never leave her alone again. It was time to put an end to the nightmares from the Red Void.