Rahzel => Reawaken
Finally, his soul gem had been reinserted into his still and quiet heart after so long. The essence of life being restored in Rahzel stung like acid in his unused veins, blood pumping through with slight difficulty. Everything hurt and it was only worsening the more his soul connected with his body.
Consciousness was farther away than a recollection of his memories and how he got to where he was, and who he was.
Demons, ghosts, Hellscapes, beach, home. Gram, Troy, Zion...Wrath. Terror, anxiety, misery. Death? It all came forth with memories attached to each thought, until his brain finally decided to connect to the rest of the body.
It was time to wake the fuck up, you lazy sack of organs. He could hear muffled voices and shuffling as he woke up, at first physically unable to open his eyes. He focused on what he could hear and a voice was so familiar, it made his heart race, painfully.
Rahzel opened his eyes finally, the brightness of anything other than the back of his eyelids seemed to burn holes into his retinas. The light hurt just as much as what was going on internally. He squinted at the two figures in the room with him. It was obvious who the tallest one was but it took his eyes some adjusting to get a better glimpse at the other. Right off the bat, he assumed Kurloz was standing there beside Wrath, but slight differences, such as eyes and hair had him even more confused than if it actually had been Kurloz. This guy's eyes looked similar to Wrath's, and he was smiling down at him.
Down? He took another moment to dart his eyes, grunting in agony as he attempted to move his neck even slightly. He heard a crack as he did so. From what he could see, he was on the very slab that he was murdered on. Confusion never hurt so bad. ~ The conversations shared with him while he was trapped in his gem came to his mind at Mach speed. It wasn't until he was placed back into a vessel that the words and semi-praises Wrath spouted at him actually meant something. Such a hefty amount of information was almost too much to bear and recognize that he began to panic from the sheer anxiety it produced.
Threats, gloats, pride, disappointment. He remembered all of his locked away emotions and thoughts at each and every word Wrath spoke to him. All the hurtful white lies and half truths; Everyone had moved on and forward with their lives? Others took his place. Wrath made another, more superior creation. That's what Wrath said-- and how long was he even 'dead' for? Weeks? Months? YEARS? Surely not years...
If his body had enough liquid in it to produce tears, he certainly would- It took him 10 minutes to even focus back on those in the room with him. Wrath, his appearance newer, much more terrifying than he last remembered and this...Kurloz look-alike. Both sets of blackened eyes with purple irises gleaming down at him in the dark room.
He felt like a specimen ready to be dissected, AGAIN. The pain in his awakened body shoots through him and he couldn't stop from trembling, only making the pain worse. He remembered a similar pain from the first time he awoke from death, coming into this world as Rahzel- was he even still Rahzel anymore? Impossible to know at this point. This was the same body, right?
Perhaps it was his imagination, but it felt as if each beat of his heart hurt. His ribs felt bruised, as if he were waking from a coma after being ran over by an eighteen wheeler. Every breath, twitch, or simple eye movement ached and caused such discomfort that he knew...he had been 'dead' longer than the first time.
So long without anyone, yet it didn't feel as long as it surely was. With no concept of how much time had passed yet, Rahzel couldn't shake the horrible anxiety twisting his insides up, and that didn't help the pain already mingling in there. Being a stiff sucked so bad.
Did anyone miss him or was Wrath telling the full truth?
More important than that, why was he alive again? Was Wrath's punishment over, or did he just get bored enough to reattach Rahzel to a vessel so his punishment could have more impact?
More moments of Wrath talking to him in that void of a gem rattled his brain. It was terrifying, almost more so than the void Gamzee would sometimes fall in when unable to wake right away.
Wrath's voice caught him from his racing thoughts and his eyes shakily aimed his direction, trying to ignore the smiling Kurloz-Clone next to him. He internally begged not to be made to stand or even move a single muscle. Honestly, Rahzel wasn't even sure if he could, even if threatened.
His anger couldn't elevate past the fear of Wrath's power over him, no matter how much of the events and private one-on-one talks with Wrath made him seethe.
Not even remembering Wrath had recorded the whole ordeal of the removal of his gem could make him move his arms. Nor could the many things Wrath said about Gram, Gamzee and sometimes even Zion.
However, throughout the period of time of him being nothing more than a pretty piece of jewelry, there was one thing Rahzel couldn't help but agree with.
He himself was to blame for his own 'death'. No matter what influences, he took the steps. He went near Kurloz. He did things he wasn't SUPPOSED to. He wasn't free. He was Wrath's, and no matter what happened, nothing would change that fact. Stuck was what he was. Many people had tried so hard to intervene in that way of thinking, and they succeeded in giving Rahzel an ego boost...and thus landed him on the very slab he was laying on--
Oh Fuck, Wrath was talking to him and he hadn't been fully paying attention. Wrath could easily tell, no doubt. That terrifyingly cold and disrespected look in his eyes. No words, but his message was clear.
Wrath could just as easily take the gem back out and forget this whole attempt ever happened. Easy peasy, back to sleep.
Rahzel did NOT want to go back in that gem-- in his own mind? Even he didn't know what that VOID was in reality and he was terrified to go back. Terror led to a fine adrenaline boost. He forced, throughout the pain, to move his fingers.
The stiff joints cracked and felt as if he were popping bones out of place. Before he knew it, he was turning his hand over at the wrist, blissfully relieved that a tingling numbness was starting to take effect.
Rahzel gazed up at the Kurloz-Clone as he approached with an opened bottle of water. He forced his eyes to squint as he was loomed over. Those black and purple eyes bored a hole in his skull as another of his hands slipped behind the back of Rahzel's head. He felt every hibernated cell in his head and neck scream as he was slowly forced into a sitting position. No waiting allowed, hm?! His mouth hung open as a silent scream wafted out. Hearing Wrath give out blasé instructions, Rahzel pieced together the name of this guy. Demian. Before Rahzel could find the energy and strength to move another muscle, the bottle of water was tilted into his mouth. Chilled water raced down his esophagus. The dryness of his throat caused the water to catch, making him unable to swallow. The shock of the cold stiffened his body further momentarily and without realizing it, he's passed out, only to wake up by being roughly jostled to his feet, the pain in his nerves enough for a hoarse scream to crackle out, water dripping from his chin and onto his chest. If this Demian guy didn't have a grip on him, he'd be facedown on the cold concrete floor.
Alive for torment it is, then.
