Pitiful Red Flesh

The red, pulsating flesh was too familiar a sight to Ezra; the hollow mimicry of the human voice grated her ears. The scenery had once again changed from the all too familiar hallways with walls dripping with the melting and rotting flesh of corpses to the ruined hallways streaked with fresh blood and huge gashes strewn across the metal walls. It was almost poetic, how she had to face this again. It was like a play she had rehearsed way too many times that she knew every line and cue.

It was the final stretch of a long, painful fight. Yet, Ezra felt no fatigue. As a Color, as the Scarlet Phantom, this was nothing to her. She remained still as the scenery distorted and morphed into the familiar bloody landscape she has seen for ten long years. Bodies of now faceless humans were strewn all over the floor, with their blood painting the walls and the ground she stood on.

She was not alone, but at the moment her vision tunneled to the monster in front of her. Her two companions readying themselves to face it- to face him. She took a few heavy steps forward, the splash of fresh blood beneath her boots. It was uncanny for her to feel so weary like this. The Scarlet Phantom never faltered once, but facing this monster, she simply grew weak. It wasn’t even truly a monster, but a man she pitied taking the form of one. This distortion was to be expected; and yet seeing him in this ruined, sordid state; it somehow mirrored her own. Ezra could not help but feel something tugging inside her. Was it empathy? Was it pity?

“I have nothing left to protect, nothing left at my side… I have nothing.”

The voice of its thoughts reverberated around the halls, the monster simply standing there idly; a smile so empty that it simply looked like it tried to pass as human. Ezra looked at it dead in the eyes, the usual coldness gone. ‘Nothing.’ She thought, as its words wracked something deep in her. Everything was still raw to her. The pain and anguish, it was all too fresh. They shared the same loss, and she saw the void it left in the monster she faced now. Her breaths, she noticed, were not steady. There still remained some turbulence from her own meltdown not too long ago. There was still grief, and she was seeing that same grief mixed in the void of the monster’s eyes.

Everything was silent around her, hyperfocusing on the monster in front of her. Whatever her companions seemed to be saying, she could not see nor hear them, the figures but a blur to her as she phased out. Not too long ago, the man that became this very monster was the same man who saved her from her own madness. She wondered; however, if her own madness earlier had triggered his.

“I couldn’t protect the one person by my side… I’m just a hollow husk.”

Its words struck a chord deep within her. Ezra She raised her sword, and she gave it a quick swing; the blade lighting up a bright, searing red. The force of the swing was enough to make a few sparks, a spectacle, and a sign that Ezra was readying herself to face this monster. “I couldn’t protect the one person… Huh…” Ezra muttered to herself, grip tightening on the hilt of her sword that glowed an even fiercer red to match the growing turbulence within her.

Ezra was facing this monster because she had to. There was no pleasure nor joy she took from this. In fact, it sickened her. This entire fight sickened her. She watched as the man took the form of the very beings he seemed to resonate with, monsters she knew and shared a familiarity with. She knew that this breakdown would come and pass as it did the previous time, but in the heat of the moment, it felt like she was about to kill an old, dear friend. The sigh was pitiful, more pitiful than even she was.

“Finally, only an empty shell remained there...”

She gazed heavily and deep into its empty eyes. There was merely a void, the hollowness permeating through the scenery. She knew that feeling, and she knew it quite well. There was no other way to get through to him without having to overcome this final form that he took. Ezra's sword never felt heavy in her hands, but right now was different. The familiar red flesh mixing in with the face of a man she pitied more than herself was enough to make her, the Scarlet Phantom, waver.

“Consider this a favor, Roland.” Ezra spoke, pointing her sword directly towards the man wearing the shell of a monster she was all too familiar with. Her sword seared and glowed as sparks flew from its blade. She steeled herself; knowing full well that she can’t waver, not at this last stretch. The monster who met her gaze started at her intently, giving her the knowing look that it knew she was going to charge at it. With the tension rapidly increasing, Ezra could see its red flesh pulsating with expectation, readying itself to face her.

What felt like an eternity was in reality just a few fleeting moments. Almost in an instant, the Scarlet Phantom charged towards her foe.