Control

Every glance stolen was a plea to keep going. Every embrace was a request not to let go. Every breath was a prayer for forgiveness for an unspeakable wrong. It wasn’t your fault. She knew this, she assured you of it, but you had wronged her. You had taken a piece of her away, and no matter how many tears you shed you knew it wouldn’t make it right.

Chin up, she would say. How could she say that? You didn’t understand. You knew she was hurting. You knew what you had done, what you were forced to do, would scar her forever. You became afraid to touch her. You became afraid for her to touch you. Chin up, she would say regardless. Chin up and look around. They were everywhere: these monsters that roamed the halls with cruel smiles and voices that spoke of faux sympathy, monsters reflected in each other bringing out the worst continuously. She echoed your words back to you: we would make it out, you would help her to get out. And you will. You had every intention to make this a reality.

Hypnotized by mirrors You should look out your window Beneath cracked panes of ice A sky’s on fire

You held her in your arms and hushed her sobs to a quiet hiccup. They hurt her again and again. But every time they hurt her you would be there. Run a brush through her hair, wash her face with a warmly soaked rag, and you were never good at sewing but you mended her blankets and made little pillows that she would sleep upon. Anything. Anything to make this life more tolerable, to shrink the pain in any way you could. It didn’t have to be like this.

You looked outside her window – barred, of course, but the glimmer of the two Alternian moons were diminishing and the sky began to be washed in a muted pastel red. As you stroked her hair and comforted her screams, quieted her nightmares, sang her to sleep, your heart began to wander outside of those bars. Don’t be content to be inside. Don’t look inside where they sleep, where they roam, where they feast on prey. Look outside. Look to the sky. That sky is big enough for the two of you. To run. To live. To breathe beyond these suffocating walls. To heal your bruises and patch your cuts. You could get jobs. Support each other. Protect each other.

Drowned by the screams of decadence A call to arms

“Hey?”

You looked down at her and rested your hand on her upper back. “Yes?” Your voice was awkward and scratchy, traces of still hitting puberty too early, but it was perfect enough for her.

“Make sure you get sleep, too.”

“I will.” But how could you? What if they come and take her away? Why must she worry about him even in her moments of hurt? It didn’t make sense, and yet he loved her for it all the same. This stubborn girl, her brazenness got her into this mess, and yet to you she would cry. You. The one who had done unspeakable horrors to her. You held her tight. They won’t take her away. You refuse their control.

Too busy working out to Work it out

It would be when you had enough money to support them both. That’s when the two of you would escape. The funds, the grants, just take it and run. But when will enough be enough? When would the collector’s come when you’re outside of the protection of the Brotherhood? What if your lusus got sick again? What if your moirail got sick? You had to wait.

It’s not gonna matter what you chose It’s too late when everything goes

You held her in your arms. Strands of bloodied hair clung to her face, and you gingerly but hurriedly brushed them aside. It was hard to see through the blurry of teal tears and smears of bronze blood. You begged. It was a pathetic sound, too cracked and helpless. It wasn’t loud enough for her to hear. You repeated your please over and over, but your desperation fell on a conscious that was no longer there. It felt as if your body was being torn in two, ripped apart, crumpled and beaten. No pain they had placed upon you had been greater than this. Your senses were numb, cold, and yet your tongue still burned with pleas. What about your promises? What about the plans you both have made, the lives you would have lived?

She’s gone. She left you with a smoking bullet in her gut.

You carried her with you. They had taken her away, but they wouldn’t take her body like they had so many times before. Bury her. Bury her and let her know peace. She needed it. She could sleep fitfully at last.

Except you never touched the ground. The air never reached your lungs. You never saw the clouds or the stars.

You were in darkness.

It’s creeping up on you It knows your name All that you left behind Will never be the same

It was suffocating. There was nowhere to run, nothing to see. All you could do was feel, but what you felt scared you. Warm, wet breaths. The sting of hands. The monsters would stir the hair by your ears and breathe down your neck. They held you and choked you, ignoring your cries for help. They laughed at your helplessness, they tasted your tears. You had betrayed them, and this was your punishment. They had held you in high graces, gave you loans and grants, all the money you needed to survive your pathetic life, and this is how you repay them? By taking away their special toy? They found a new one tonight.

Bodies against bodies. Breath against breath. He needed to get out, to escape, to breath in cooler air. This basement was hot and dark. Haunting wails filled your ears. You weren’t sure if they were your screams or your assailants’. You could feel them clawing at your skin. Was this what she felt? This unmistakable horror of cat and mouse? You would hide feebly, but they would always find you. No corner, no box, no pipe was safe. Every time you touched the stairs you were yanked back and the cycle would begin again. You cried. You screamed. There was no one there to save you. Your moirail died. You’re alone now. Alone and in the dark. You prayed for daylight to come, to give you some sort of light to hope upon, but daylight wasn’t for several hours.

It’s come for all that you hold dear She starts to cry And hears a song to break your heart You’re looking in the dark

image

Maybe you deserved this. You had played their game for so long that now it was time to pay the price. Living day to day, night to night, would no longer be enough. They owned you. They controlled you. It was time to obey. To listen. To play a game of chess until you could finally say “checkmate.” You had to pay for your mistakes and learn the game.

They pulled you down again. You could see the sliver of artificial light from beneath the basement door leading to the room just outside. So close. So out of reach. You stared into it as they tore into you, scratched you, rendered you mute. That’s all you could be now: mute. The light was blinding in the pitch black, but it was all you could look at. The sky was small and golden, burning through a single bulb. A lamp. Some overhang, maybe. There were other monsters out there waiting for your escape. They were nicer monsters that would be more merciful in their punishments, like a punch to the gut or forcing your head in the tub. But not this. Not this heat. Not this fire that burned all over. Not the mix of blood that coated your skin, or the lubricating spit of your attackers. The pain throbbed and grew within like a bull-shoot on a vine. Just keep your eyes on the light. That’s the one thing you know. The one thing that will keep you safe. Will it matter? Will it save you? No, but at least there’s an opportunity. They can’t take that way.

What do you know?

Your name is Omnius Dioxal.

You’re six, almost seven sweeps old.

Why are you here?

For the debt you owe. Your lusus’ medical bills. Someone had to pay them, and it wasn’t you.

What will you do?

Tears streamed down your face. You will do your damn best to study and become a legislacerator.

So you could burn these clowns to the ground.

But for now?

Survive the dark.

I can’t see It’s getting late In the night we made mistakes

Your name is Omnius Dioxal. You’re 24 sweeps old. You looked at the young male sleeping in your bed. Another day spent, another day paid. Your gut twisted knowing that when the night falls and he wakes that you will be alone again. It would be time to turn on all the lights and chase away the shadows. It would be time to get ready for work and pray that no one notices how isolated you felt. It was a cage of your own design, yet you never had the key.

You pressed your lips to the other’s head, waking him. You lingered in the moment, trying to prepare yourself for the nightly loss. These relationships don’t last, there’s nothing to build from, and even if you two could be something more –more than mere strangers exchanging money for service– where would it go? What would it be? There’s nothing worth while here.

You paid for his taxi just like you paid for his dinner, his jewels, his clothes, his tools. And you would pay for it over and over again if it meant you wouldn’t be alone. He left without a thank you, only sweet-toned remarks, but you at least had his number. A number wouldn’t warm the bed, however, but it was an opportunity.

Would you leave yourself alone If everything goes dark?

After a shower, breakfast, and making sure night lights and lamps were operational, you got into your car and drove. Work was a ways away, and the light outside was dying still, creating a twilight that felt much like limbo to you. The street lights brought comfort, rays of synthetic sunshine shining through your front window. You never learned to ease your guard in the darkness. It was a constant reminder of what you’ve lost.

And if anyone knew? Well, you’d rather keep it to yourself. You have an image, you have goals, no one needs to know how weak you were. How weak you are. You have control. You are not only Omnius, but you are the Initiate. You’re taking a dark past, a dark title, and making it yours. That’s control. You need that control. You don’t think you can survive without it.

You have your regrets, your sins, your fears. Why couldn’t he see that this was all for the best? The torture, the pain, the failures, it was all to make him stronger– to make the world stronger. No more Highbloods using fists for gain. No more unjust laws based on things one can’t control. It scared you to be without him. The Government is filled to the brim with hungry hounds with purple and pinks in their veins. Even Silene could kill you if she really wanted to. It would be legal, because she’s so much higher. That’s why you needed this. Need that control. You need Rutaci. You need him controlled.

Would you lighten up your town?

You stroll past the sunning chambers, the dungeons in which traitors were punished by the good graces of the sun. Yes, the sun really does protect you, doesn’t it? You stared at the spot where Stygia once was. Her screams played back in your mind. They sounded familiar, and you caught yourself grieving. No. You had convinced yourself that there was nothing left to feel. She’s dead. You needed that. That control. But now that it was all for nothing, how do you feel about it now? Do you feel so dreadfully low, so riddled with holes from all the wrongs you have committed? Can’t you see that you’re just like them, and in chasing your tail you’re letting that legacy live? No. This was needed. It had to happen. You’d kill her again if given the chance. She took away so much. She took away him.

You caught Silene’s eye. There was nothing but hatred and disgust. It was warranted. You wished you could return it, but she was perhaps the only remaining connection to your little rebel group. Maybe that’s why she’s not dead yet, too.

No, you needed her. You control her, don’t you? It’s all for the control. It’s all for the ambitions you haven’t acted on in sweeps now. Why haven’t you? No, you were in control.

Once everything goes dark

Your breath hitched when the dungeon lights went out. You rested your head against the wall, choking back an unexpected sob. There was nothing shining on the walls, nothing to guide you out. Your heart twisted and pounded against your ribs. Your palms began to sweat. Anything could happen. Anything at all. You pressed yourself to the wall. Who are you?

Omnius Dioxal.

You’re 24 sweeps old.

Why are you here?

Gog… you don’t even know anymore.

What will you do?

Keep going. You have to keep going. You have to continue playing this game. You have to remain on your throne. You’ve built so much of an empire, you can’t watch it fall.

A door clicks open, basking you in light. You look up and see Silene again. Your eyes are wide, color has drained from you face. You both exchange looks, neither with emotions that could be read. She stepped out of the door frame, allowing you through. You were quick to depart.

You’re in control.