novelnext The Cry of Will
The Cry of Will
(What are you... what are you looking for?)The gray sky sank even further, like a leaden sheet trying to suffocate the remains of the mansion, while the black rain transformed into a solid curtain that blurred the boundaries between the ground and the air.
(BOOOOOOOOOM!!!)
The storm had not reached its climax; instead, it was only just beginning to roar with its true voice...
(VROOOOOOO-OOOM!!!)
The wind reached a deafening intensity, kicking up fragments of charred marble that flew like shrapnel through the darkness.
"Where did I put it? The lease said the soul was tax-deductible... Ha, ha! Mommy, look, I found a baby tooth in the crystal soup! Emerald, emerald, emerald!"
In front of Shija's small figure, as thunder shook the debris, the figure of the girl kneeling in the center of the crater continued digging.
(Scritch... scritch... scratch!)
Her hands, charred, long and bony, clawed at the mud of ash and tar with a frenetic desperation.
"…hic… almost there… the silver… the silver is beneath the flesh… hahaha!"
The figure threw handfuls of black earth backward, moaning those nonsensical words between broken laughs, while her fingers bled from the friction against the remains of marble and wood.
"Do you feel it? It's down here... gold doesn't shine, gold burns... such a funny contradiction, don't you think?"
She searched for something with an obsession that ignored the deluge, the lightning, and the very integrity of her being in the midst of the storm.
"Aah... It's just glass... And it's broken!! Ahahaha, that's funny!"
The figure thrust her arms up to the elbows into the boiling mud, pulling out fragments of broken glass and tossing them aside with contempt, only to plunge her fingers back into the hole, sobbing with hysterical joy every time her hands touched something solid.
"The clouds have ants, and the ants are counting my eyelashes. One, two, infinity!"
In front of Shija, the female figure did not stop...
(Scritch... scratch... shhh!)
On the contrary, the violence of the weather seemed to feed her frenzy.
"!!"
In turn, Shija, with his small fingers dug into the charred wood of a beam, felt his infant feet lift off the ground with every gust, despite his efforts to cling desperately to the spot.
"Excuse me, do you have the time? My watch stopped when the heart stopped going 'thump-thump'... Hee, hee, hee! Don't look at me like that, bronze doesn't go with this emptiness in my chest! Look for it, look for it under the ribs!"
On the other hand, the figure of the girl, splashing mud onto her disfigured face, continued digging and babbling, completely dissociated from herself...
(BOOOOOOOOOM!!!)
And from everything that surrounded her.
(... She's looking for something... Bzzzzzzzt... My head...)
Watching the scene as a flash of lightning illuminated the figure's hunched back, revealing how her vertebrae peeked through translucent, grayish skin, Shija clung tighter to the debris, feeling his consciousness grow increasingly fuzzy.
"It's the pink! Pink is for crystal cupcake Tuesdays and skin audits!"
However, at that moment, what Shija never imagined was that the situation would turn critical in an instant...
<<{"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"}>>
When suddenly, a distinct vibration, a discordant note that belonged to neither the wind nor the rain, stopped the babbling dead in its tracks.
<<{"WHY KEEP SEARCHING?"}>>
The question did not arrive as a sound, but as a mental intrusion—a slurring, gelid voice that seemed to crawl down Shija's spine like a thousand-legged insect.
"...."
In that instant, the atmosphere changed.
"¡¿?!"
The air of desolation was replaced by a repulsive sensation, a spiritual nausea that made Shija's Ki writhe in a desperate attempt not to be contaminated.
<<{"NOW YOU ARE ALONE, LITTLE ONE..."}>>
Behind the figure of the broken "girl," the black rain began to curve unnaturally.
(Sssssss-shhhh...)
A twisted mist of nauseating and oversaturated colors began to sprout from the cracks in reality.
<<{"... THERE IS NO MORE FAMILY... NO FRIENDS... OR ANYONE... TO REMEMBER YOU..."}>>
It was neither smoke nor vapor; it was a mass of semi-solid ectoplasm writhing upon itself, forming faces that dissolved before they could scream.
"You're lying..."
The blackness of the mist did not absorb light; it devoured it, leaving a trail of absolute cold that froze the mud around the female figure.
<<{"I AM NOT LYING, LITTLE ONE... THAT HATEFUL SCIENTIST IS DEAD... YOU KILLED HIM... REMEMBER...?"}>>
And then, from the heart of that organic and nauseating fog, something began to manifest.
"... I don't know."
It was not a defined form, but a presence that "smiled" without having a mouth—a malicious intent that flooded the ruins with the scent of old meat bathed in luxury perfume.
<<{"AHAHA.... OH, RIGHT... YOUR SOUL IS..."}>>
It was a feeling of invasion, of "something" that had been watching from the shadows for so long, waiting for its chance.
"...."
And in response to the words of the thing behind her, the small female figure remained paralyzed, her bony hands still buried in the mud, as the twisted mist rose behind her like a tide of hungry shadows.
<<{"YOU ARE SO ALONE... POOR THING... DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER... WHAT YOUR NAME WAS...?"}>>
The "smile" of that presence was so vast and disturbing that Shija, even with his warrior's mind, felt a primal impulse to retreat, to flee from that thing and forget it...
(This... this is not... something that should exist...)
But even so, Shija, clinging to the debris and unable to move, stood his ground, watching as the mist began to encircle the girl's shoulders, like the arms of a rotten lover returning home.
<<{"TELL ME, LITTLE ONE... I WILL ASK AGAIN... WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"}>>
The presence emerging from the twisted mist did not attack; instead, it enveloped the small figure with a cloying sweetness, an artificial tenderness that was a thousand times more terrifying than any war cry.
"... My name... I... We..."
The voice dripped like rotten honey, echoing in the void of the destroyed mansion.
<<{"DO YOU REMEMBER WHO YOU WERE BEFORE THIS BEAUTIFUL CASTLE CAME CRASHING DOWN? WHAT IS THAT SO IMPORTANT THING YOU SEEK WITH SUCH DESPERATION IN THE MUD...?"}>>
The purulent mist caressed the girl's shoulders, winding around her neck like an invisible lover.
"... What... I... seek...?"
At that moment, the female figure, who just an instant ago was a whirlwind of maniacal activity, turned stone-cold.
"... What am I... seeking..."
Slowly, her hands—still covered in mud and blood—stopped digging and began to move with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor, like the legs of a dying spider.
"........"
She tilted her head toward the ground, letting her long, thin hair fall like a mourning curtain, hiding her sunken eyes and her lipless face.
"What is... my name?"
The silence that followed was broken only by the hiss of the black rain, until she began to whisper, repeating the questions with a voice that was a broken echo of herself.
"Who... was I? Mr. Martinez... or the girl with the ice cream...? What am I looking for...? The report... or the heart...?"
Her fingers lightly scratched the surface of the mud as the faint sparks of fire around her were extinguished entirely, one by one...
"I... I... Hee-heh!... I don't know. I can't see it!"
She tried to force her mind, searching through the debris of her fragmented memory, but for every image she thought she caught, a thousand more dissolved into the static of a crowd.
<<{"YOU DON'T KNOW... DO YOU?"}>>
She failed.
<<{"BUT DON'T WORRY... YOU CAN STOP THINKING... AND JUST SLEEP..."}>>
Every attempt to remember hit her with a wave of confusion that pushed her back toward protective madness.
<<{"JUST REST... RELAX... AND ALLOW ME TO HELP YOU..."}>>
The twisted mist behind her seemed to "widen" its invisible smile at the little one's failure, vibrating with predatory satisfaction as the last flames began to give way.
<<{"GIVE YOUR BEING TO ME... GIVE ME THAT SONG... LET US BE ONE"}>>
Shija, watching from his infant position, felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
"... Be... one..."
That sweetness in the entity's voice was not compassion; it was the delight of an artist contemplating his most broken work.
(This cannot go on!)
The repulsive pressure increased, and Shija understood that this "thing" was enjoying the absolute erasure of the girl's identity...
(In no way must I let this continue!!)
In that moment, Shija could feel it vibrating through his entire being while a single impulse screamed at him that he had to stop it.
(CRACK-BOOOOOOM!!!)
But the air became a physical barrier, a mass of static and nausea that tried to reject the presence of any pure will.
"I-I..."
Everything could have ended there...
"STOP!!!"
But Shija, even in that body that could barely support its own weight, did not allow the scene to continue.
"... A... baby...?"
The image of the broken girl, dissolving into oblivion under the caress of that repulsive mist, activated something in his core that even he hadn't noticed.
"Don't listen to her! Don't look into the void! If you don't have a name, invent one, but do not surrender!"
Shija crawled, sinking up to his elbows in the mud, his face stained with soot and his eyes bloodshot, projecting every ounce of his will toward the hunched figure, causing his form to rejuvenate more and more.
<<{"IGNORE THE SOUND... YOU ARE ALONE... ONLY YOU EXIST..."}>>
The twisted mist churned violently, its invisible "smile" twitching at the interference.
"Invent... it...?"
However, Shija's words sparked a reaction.
"Don't give up... Not yet...!"
The last spark, weak and on the verge of extinction, which should have disappeared at that moment...
"Keep moving forward... even if you don't know what you're looking for... DO NOT GIVE UP!!"
It tinkled feebly in reaction.