Hey laurie, what was it like when u met the Plague? Did you feel bad for her with what happened to her and what does the Obsession reveal about her?
The Plague. I know she looks like something to pity… but don’t let her diseased appearance fool you. Whatever circumstances lead to her coming to this forsaken state of existence, she is no longer a victim in the least; She carries herself with the haughty grandeur of a self-proclaimed goddess. Sauntering through the trials with her head held high, clearly proud of what once must’ve been considered a disastrous curse.When I’m in a trial with her... when I look upon her towering form in the distance, the connection is made between us. And I can feel a powerful love for the Entity. She is devoted to its cause, utterly swayed by its whim and sees its sacrificial demands as a justification for her mutilation of us survivors.She doesn’t necessarily pity us the way The Nurse does. She is filled with absolute lust for the Entity’s good graces, and will appease it whatever way she can; spreading her contagion to us, weakening us with never ending bile, stomach spasms and unbearable heat. In comparison, The Nurse simply tries to put an end to us as soon as possible.The way she kills us too… she doesn’t do it quickly. She aims to cause us severe distress. She always makes sure to force us to ingest her disgusting, vile, spew; forcing it down our throats until our lungs grow heavy and we drown in her illness. She isn’t “putting us out of our misery” nor is she simply doing the Entity’s work… she is punishing us for whatever reason. She is making sure that we are terrified, that we feel powerless in her hands.The sickness I feel from her is not just the plague she carries. She isn’t something to be pitied. She may have been a human, she may have been tricked or forced into work for the godawful black spider that rules this place, but she has fully embraced it and makes sure that we feel like worms beneath her feet.At times, when a trial is nearing close, and no one has died… I sense great fear in her heart. And I am glad. Because she torments and hurts us with no pity, no remorse, and above all, she does it with arrogance. She believes herself to be a chosen one, and us to be the heathens she must punish.The only times I sense anything more than Arrogance, and the aforementioned fear, is when she sees me.The Obsession has once again successfully wormed its way in… perverting some aspect of the Beast’s brain. She sees me and I can sense a sort of necessitous hesitation.Anytime she touches or injures me with that heavy burner, I immediately become a presence of fear, the others have said so. They say they can sense her malicious aura coming off me in waves.Her rotted heart follows me for sometime before finally returning to her… waiting to haunt me again.During that time, I feel this horrible, all-consuming heat coiling inside my chest and wrapping around my thoughts…And it’s then… that I see her intentions towards me… I can sense that she sees me as a messenger for her “God”; a voice to announce salvation and fear. But not only that… it feels like she sees me as a possible Neophyte. Like she perhaps wants to take me under her wing.I don’t know what could’ve lead her to view me in such a way, other than The Obsession forcing it in.She still kills me. Treads over me like the others and watches me squirm as I am forced to inhale her terminal kiss. But she always speaks. She always whispers or shouts in an ancient language, one that I cannot possibly understand literally, but there is a passion in her words. And when she speaks to me, I almost feel… an eager sort of expectation. Like she is just biding her time for the moment she can share the truth of her unknowable words to me.Sometimes, while I’m stuck bleeding out on the hook, waiting for the abomination to take me away to the hellish sky… she stays.She stands before me, studying my face with her one good eye.And I stare back at the two-sided face she wears; it almost seems like The Entity granted her back some of her former beauty. The way her flesh droops, balloons out and weeps with rot on one side, while the other shows what once must have been a truly beautiful young woman. A perfect representation of what the monster has done to these… these people.She will sometimes cup my head with her gigantic, rotted hands... I try to fight her away, but it’s no use when the grind of the hook’s jagged metal on my raw flesh damn near paralyzes my body.She’ll hold my face, and for a moment, she’ll speak, she’ll say something that almost sounds like a stern parent, or maybe like an authority figure telling you what’s good for you.And then she’ll kiss me. Sometimes on the cheek, sometimes on the forehead and disgustingly sometimes on my mouth.Perhaps she sees it as a blessing. As a way of showing me some form of lenience… trying to get me to acknowledge a path she foresees…I’m scared… What if there IS something inside waiting to be awoken? Just behind my eyes, waiting to see an escape? The others said it themselves… I carry her heartbeat.
