#simon 03

hope these aren’t going to a ghost. and what if they had? what if there was a possible future where he was spurred to play martyr and relinquished whatever shred of his divinity to the song? what if, what if, what if. his temples began aching by the next hour, throbbing lowly, but being the stubborn man he was, lars kept on and on and on, all until he no longer could.

something in his chest, long since buried, came back with a searing pain and begged to be tended to. he knew it to be the pang of loneliness. of loss.

taking out the device, lars thumbed back a message:

[ text ] -> “are you home?”

I can see their essences struggling to overcome eachother, but not the movements. It is almost as the stronger presence is trying to block me out, to not see the result of this banter: rather peculiar, but there was an attempt that I admire. I can hear the pet screaming for its life while clawing at the other form, but… I do not doubt that it won’t be victorious.

It is too fresh of a soul, to begin with. If we’d like to split hairs and analyze the situation, then we do not have an even match. I admit, this was just to see who would have prevaled… but I’d certantly prefer if the witch was the one to survive. I would, without hesitation, invite her to my side – she’s emanating nothing but hatred from her pores, and I have never seen such brutal swings being taken at a being, unless it was me with an unfortunate host.

I desire her as my ally.

… Yet, the pet was the one that came out victorious. I saw a darker figure being thrown in the deepest pit of their shared mind, it’s currently grasping its chest, struggling for air and for the wounds the witch has inflicted to it. It is calling for my help, for my real name.

… How did it knew?

And I am in no mood to coddle it. It can heal itself while growing accustomed to the body.