#clay-cuttlefish

He dropped the knife that he had held to try and cut off his own body’s hand. Not even a single drop of blood. He didn’t know why he bothered to try anymore. He had lost track of anything he did but for the day his life had been ruined… and the day he had lost her.

Those events were ingrained in his mind, just as intense as when they first unfolded, as well as the exact number of days he had suffered since. It had been them and-

A meowing interrupted his dark thoughts and he remembered. Of course. His friend still had to eat. Sissel had to eat and live… for them.

“What would I do without you, Sissel? What am I doing without you?” He looked at his friend and at nothing all at once. 

The black cat looked up at him and meowed gently.

“... Thank you, Sissel.”

He awkwardly manipulated himself to move to the door, turned the knob without feeling it and stepped out.

“Time to get some food,” ... and retain his sanity for another day… somewhat.

•••

Rats were easy to manipulate. Once he got the hang out of flying, pigeons became just as easy. 

The small animals did everything he wanted them to. He could make them move. He could make them fight. He could even make them stop breathing, but… but that was once… and it hadn't been on purpose. 

Forcing his will on other creatures so easily did something to him, but Yomiel didn’t dare thinking more about that just yet.

When he felt like losing himself, he talked to Sissel. Whenever he switched to the ghost world there was this one familiar core that would stay by his side and he was grateful for that. Then, talking wasn’t even necessary.  

Yomiel started taking over so many different cores and beings, because doing anything was better than to succumb to the hurt and suffering and pain. Sometimes he made them suffer too. Tried to let them feel what he felt, but it wasn’t ever enough. And he felt guilty for that. Each time a little less... 

They say that time would heal the pain. Whoever said that was a bloody liar and hadn’t truly felt real pain. Yomiel felt like no one did. No one felt the way he did. 

Soon Yomiel could do anything once he possessed the core of a small animal and he did try… anything. But never with cats, if he could help it.

He perfected the art of manipulating small animals and started concentrating on manipulating his own corpse better, too. He tried mimicking others in the way they walked, talked, moved. It started to look natural. Human. Was he human? Does feeling pain make you human?

•••

Why... Why were they not feeling it?

It should hurt more. Everything about this should hurt so much. Should feel like agony. They should feel the pain. The unending suffering.

A whimper escaped the person under his corpse's, his, hand.

"You... Do you feel it? Do you feel the pain?" Judging from their weakened screams, when he pushed the knife deeper into their wound, Yomiel suspected that they somehow did. Lucky them.

"P-please... I'll give you anything, please just... just let me go... I won't tell anybody, please..."

Yomiel raised the head of his body - a bit too abruptly and a bit too unnaturally, because he made his victim jump uncontrollably. Hm. Still needed to work on that...

"You don't have anything to give, except your screams and your pain..." He deepened the cut with the knife.

Feel the agonizing pain.

"When will you stop screaming, I wonder...?"

It turned out to be a very long time.

•••

When he washed the last of the blood from his hands, Yomiel just let the water drip. The sound was better to bear than the nothingness he felt whenever his body seemed to touch anything.

This existence... even the pain of others was not enough. They didn’t feel the same way he did. They didn’t suffer enough. 

Sissel... What am I supposed to do?

Yomiel wished he could cry. He wished something would change. Why was he still in this world? It didn’t make sense. He looked for a purpose. For something. It didn’t matter what, just… anything to diffuse the impossible pain and loneliness inside. The hole where once his heart was. The darkness. 

He was sinking.

A nearby phone rang repeatedly and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He hated that sound. When was the last time someone called him? When was the last time he needed to pick up the phone? No one ever called the dead.

Why didn't they pick up?

Yomiel paid a visit to that unfortunate neighbor that night.

•••

Yomiel had to check twice, when he switched to the ghost world again. But there was no doubt about it… there were… new cores. Objects... and people.

He didn’t feel any remorse when he seized a core. That was something he left behind a long time ago.

It took some time getting used to. People were a tad harder to control than small animals. 

Forcing his will on actual living, thinking humans did something more to him than it did with the animals. Yomiel embraced it eagerly. 

•••

The body dropped limply when Yomiel allowed his manipulated victim to let go of the throat. It was… new… exciting. 

And the best wasn’t the killing. The best was the expression of the ones acting out his every  bidding. They felt it. The remorse. The guilt. The suffering.

His newfound powers gave him a release he hadn’t imagined he would ever get. And he craved for more.

•••

“N-no, I’m sorry, love, I am not…! I don’t know what is happening! Please, oh god!” 

Yomiel made his new puppet corner their loved one. He found out that a saw was an excellent choice of weapon.

He saw the fear in the victim and the desperation in the other. 

Yes… endure the pain like I do…

The screams of both echoed through the night and it was music to Yomiel’s ears.

•••

He found lots of different ways to let the people suffer - both, the manipulated ones and their victims. He found out that there was no limit to what he could do to them. If anything, he was a perfectionist and he perfected the manipulation of people, too. And the killing of them. It became as easy as breathing was for them.

But… the thrill faded. Soon the screams sounded the same and they did suffer, but while his suffering got worse, theirs stayed the same. It was unfair. And his thoughts circled back to why. 

Every laughter, every happy face made his mood worse. Poor Sissel had to endure all of it, but still, Sissel stayed faithfully by his side. The manipulation of objects didn't even begin to challenge him.

Maybe… maybe they could start anew. But Yomiel just couldn’t let go of the events from years ago. 

It had been them and- ...and in that moment he knew what to do.

It was time that they started to get a taste of what he felt. Random strangers just didn’t cut it anymore (he had made them cut each other up too many times already). Yomiel had access to this immeasurable power. Might as well make use of it. To finally show them what they sowed.

•••

Finding the first cop was easy. Yomiel found not needing to sleep useful for once. He used the detested telephone lines, too. Anything to reach his newfound purpose. That was why he still  existed this long, after all. 

Yomiel wanted him to lose his precious someone, too. And he wanted to do it in the most painful way possible. He took his time to flesh out a perfect plan.

When the small girl started building her little contraption, it got even better than what he had imagined and gods, had he imagined lots of ways. It would be a few days more to wait, but oh was the wait worth it.

•••

The faithful day came and another body tumbled to the ground. A meaningful body.

How does it feel, Jowd?

Yomiel’s thoughts raced when he fulfilled the deed. His heart would be competing with them if it was still beating. 

This… this was it. 

With this he was sure to get what would be his only salvation. Revenge. 

One small gear set into motion. One small step at a time. One death after the other.