The Chronicles Of The Finalists

This Marked Cave Is Not My Resting Place

Kreek is asleep. Kreek is dreaming. Kreek is dreaming of his past.

He had been fighting his doppel. Fighting it desperately for control.

He'd tried to summon it, but then it dragged him to the floor, cornering him in his mind. He'd had to fight it. He would've let it take control because at first he thought it was just a normal doppel summoning, but then he used his ability on it, because he got suspicious.

Then it grabbed his waist and started trying to squeeze him in its grip, announcing it's intention to fully control him.

He'd never thought he'd be fighting his own witch form, but there he was, fighting it. It knew all his weaknesses. Knew all his pain. Knew where to hit him where it hurt. It's a manifestation of his despair, after all. Of course it would know.

It seemed to have a voice, too. A version like his, but deeper. Menacing. It scared him. It scared him that if he gave up the fight, he'd be trapped by this thing. It would fuse to him and he would die.

KreekCraft refuses to die. He doesn't care that magical girls are almost destined to die one way or another. KreekCraft refuses to die.

While he was fighting it, it kept teasing him.

"Why are you fighting? You'll turn into me in the end whether you like it or not. So why are you prolonging your doom?"

"I'M NOT DYING! SHUT UP!"

He'd had to yell a few times to block out the screaming he could hear from it. His own screaming. Trying to disorient him.

"I'm trying to protect you! That's what I've always been doing! Why are you only fighting back now?"

"YOU'RE LYING TO ME! YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!"

"I never lie, lying is for the weak."

It was weird, and slightly hurting. He used to feel that way.

Used to. His opinions have changed.

He can thank the others for that.

He kept fighting it. Even though it destroyed his everything, tired him out to the point he could barely walk, fought so fast he could barely breathe, blinded him, deafened him, he kept fighting. It was so powerful from all the times he'd used it, not thinking there was any issue. At this rate he'd never use it again unless he was forced.

He was injured and weak in the corner of his mind, screaming for help from his friends, just hoping that he can hold off. He could feel all the ink dripping onto him, feel his body, his hold on himself dripping away.

He was fighting back with everything he had, and yet he was still losing.

Until the doppel started screaming, and stopped attacking. Kreek looked up to see it disintegrating, the black in his mind escaping, the black in his soul gem fading away in a burst.

Kreek paused.

He'd, somehow, fought it off for long enough for his friends to find a grief seed, and prevent his doppel from coming out.

He'd won.

"Thank- god." He needed to breathe. But upon breathing, his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

Which is how he was here now, re-living the moment he made his wish.

~~~

KreekCraft hated his home town. Wayfind Creek was where he lived. It seemed to be a beautiful, isolated town in the middle of nowhere. His parents had named him after the place.