Diverging paths

Delusional

28/1/2043

Sat alone, in the dark, they remain.

They can't help but focus in, on the constant screaming in their mind.

The shouting continued, getting louder.

They felt estranged from reality, within their own head, but from the corner of their eye, they saw something move, a shadow or something within them eating its way out.

The movement startled them, forcing them to leap from their place.

Stood scared, watching the dark, they could feel a breathe on their kneck.

They turned quickly, admiring a scattered scene of a creature.

The thing moved close, blipping from the world, as though its existence was vague.

Afraid, petrified, Wing prepared.

Their skin turned in, their wings grew out, threatening, powerful, protected.

"Leave me beast!" Wing screamed.

In a moment, stretched in pain and fear, they held two blades, one in each hand.

"Stay back!" Wing pleaded.

The beast was silent.

It encroached quickly.

Its features more distinct.

The bludgeoning red eyes.

"I'll make you ash." Wing threatened.

Still it grew closer.

Wing got more scared, then before.

They looked at both blades before attaching them together, one on top of the other.

The blade, of the one beneath, pushed upwards.

What was left, after the screeching of poorly oiled machinery, was twice the size of the blade before.

Made from both, was a sword.

They took a swing at the beast, but it's body changed around it.

In a sudden second, the silhouette of a weighted ball, fell to the floor beside the beast.

A ball with eyes of blood, and a bright, elongated smile, attached by a chain.

The beast held it back.

As it tried to get them, its smile feeling like an amalgamation of horror and pain, an echo of sorrow wrapped in a lack of empathy.

The beast could pick up the ball, thing, creature, with little effort.

As it came flying towards them, the grin barrelling towards their face, Wing tried to defend  but was left helpless.

Fear overwhelmed them and they were filled by an empty darkness, blinded by fear, of shear terror.

All they could sense was the beast limping closer, its breathe deep and raspy.

They were left paralysed, unsure of what to do.

After a blink, or two, their blindness left, the beasts soulless eyes, mere inches away from Wing's.

Suddenly they could feel a hand at their neck, they could barely breath, as the grip got tighter.

They reached out, to grab at the arm, but nothing was there to grab, and yet the grip still got tighter.

They tried to scream for help.

They tried to cry in fear.

They tried to plead for mercy, but no sound came out.

The beast leaned in.

Next to their ear, it whispered "nevermore."

Nothing was there, the grip completely loosened.

All that was left, was more cuts along their arms.

The overwhelming panic forced their knees to the ground, the memory of the beast glued to their mind.

Curled up on the floor, they cried for it to leave.

But of course, it never could.