PROJECT MORTUUS : The Creature

Chapter 17: Yugen

Mortuus opened his eyes, the light piercing in as he steadied himself. He had no idea where he was or what was happening. 

"Ugh... What happened?-" Mortuus stood up with a confused expression, the memories of Micheal Morris flooding his mind with sharp pain. He groaned, holding his head in agony as it all came back to him. 

Kill me. The words floated into his head, Morris's expression of remorse burning into him. Kill me! 

He looked forward at The Stitcher standing there. It was frozen in a trance, its clawed fingers twitching. As he stared at it, he could only see what was once a kind father. That devilish stitched-up smile was once so kind. His past was so murky that this creature was all that remains of his hollow memory. 

He looked down at his revolver. Could he really do this? End this innocent man's life just because he's in that awful beast? He had to. There isn't any other way, he reasoned. Killing him is the only way to save what is left of him inside The Stitcher. 

He popped open the barrel of his gun, placing a single gold bullet into the chamber and locking it in. He pulled the hammer back with his thumb. Mortuus lifted his revolver and stuck it in the mouth of the tranced Stitcher. 

He tightly closed his eyes, and Mortuus discharged the gun, sending blackened blood scattering across the room and onto the walls. It was done. The Stitcher's body fell like a tree and toppled to the ground, motionless. 

He stared down at the body and tipped his head in respect to the man it once was. "I bid thee adieu, my friend," Mortuus mumbled quietly to the monster's corpse. Its body was rigid and still warm. 

Mortuus walked out the door, closing it quietly behind him. "I loved her too, ya know." He quietly uttered, each word becoming more challenging to say than the last. "You were never the villain they made you, Micheal."

A steady rain began falling on Mortuus's head as he walked past the mailbox and down the street. He walked without direction, without rhyme or reason. He walked until his legs hurt, and his muscles couldn't possibly go any further. Till his feet were sore and bloodied from use. He collapsed on a bathroom floor, blacking out for a second as his body rested. 

Mortuus stared down at the blade in his hand. His whole body was shaking, his heart was pounding against his chest, and his head rang with anger and frustration. He lifted the knife and dug it into his arm, sliding it down the length of it. Warm blood seeping out and dripping on the floor. 

Mortuus steadied himself against the bathroom sink, holding the knife into his arm as it stung. He looked up, staring at himself in the mirror. "You don't deserve this life!" he shouted at his reflection as he tore the knife out.  

Mortuus slammed the knife into his chest and dragged it across, spraying blood onto the mirror. It dripped down the mirror in awful red streaks. He tore the blade from his arm, blood spewing out and splattering all around him. 

"Fuck you-" Mortuus sobbed into his blood-stained hands as he cradled his head. "I just want my life back... My actual life..."

Mortuus slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering the glass and getting shards stuck in his hand. He didn't care that it hurt; he didn't care about anything. But he especially didn't care about himself. 

Mortuus turned around, sat down with his legs to his chest, and cried. Death appeared next to him and consoled him in an unusually soft tone for his normal deep and gravelly voice. 

"If only you could see Mordecai's hopes for you." Death spoke to Mortuus while rubbing a bony hand reassuringly against his back. "He gave you this-"

Mortuus pulled his revolver from his pocket and loaded the chamber again. "...This nightmare."

He pulled the trigger without hesitation. His body hit the floor, and he immediately sat back up with the same amount of vibrant life as before. The bathroom door swung open, a worried man staring back at Mortuus as he investigated the gunshot he heard. 

Death faded into dust beside Mortuus, blowing away with his scythe, the man not noticing, "WHAT IN THE WORLD IS HAPPENING IN HERE??" He panicked. 

Mortuus stood up and walked past him. Responding coldly, "I slipped."