The Trials and Tribulations of Fizzarolli

Physically Unrecognizable - Familiar to the Soul

Blitzo blinked his eyes. He didn't know where he was. It was dark. Not pitch black. Just enough light, with no source, to make Blitzo a bit nervous as to what he might see. He looked all around himself for a while and saw nothing. Then on one last turn of his head, he was met with the startling sight of a gray, misty, figure with red eyes. It looked like a person, much taller than him. He was at just the right distance away that Blitzo couldn't tell exactly how much so.

A white light suddenly turned on behind Blitzo. It was relatively dim. The effect on what was in front of him was miniscule. It didn't blind it. It more so called for him to turn around. But he was too scared to turn his back to this figure.

The figure pointed behind him. Blitzo, anxious thinking about what the figure would do if he didn't look back, turned around. He physically shook at what he saw.

Before him was a mess of wires coming from walls, a floor, and a ceiling he could not see. They were all connected to something, no, someone. An imp. The battered and pathetic remnants of an imp. He hung there naked. He had white scars over most of his body, which was just a torso and a head. His horns were also chopped down short. Wires and an oxygen tube were shoved down his throat. Tears were rolling down his face from eyes shut tight, like he was trying not to witness what was going on. Like he was trying to wake up from a nightmare.

A muffled voice managed to escape his stuffed mouth. 

Wired Imp: We were best friends. Why did you leave me? 

Blitzo didn't recognize this voice. It made him sick listening to it. He turned away. He couldn't look at this anymore. 

Blitzo: What sick son of a bitch did this to him? Who did this!? 

The figure placed his hand against his chest. He closed his eyes solemnly. Then he opened his eyes, full of anger, and pointed at Blitzo. 

Blitzo: Me? 

The figure pointed back to the poor imp suspended by wires.

Blitzo: No. Don't make me look at that shit! No! 

The figure glared at Blitzo with rage. Blitzo, feeling like he had no choice, turned and looked at the horrifyingly sickening scene behind him. 

Blitzo: Who is that? What did I do to him? 

Wired Imp: We were like brothers. Why did you leave me?

Blitzo fell down onto his knees and nearly threw up. The pain in this imp's voice and his struggle to speak through the tube and wires was downright disgusting. 

Wired Imp: I loved you. Why did you leave me?

Blitzo: Stop! STOP! Stop doing that! Stop showing me this! You're sick! You're fucking sick! What did I even do!? 

Wired Imp: Why did you leave me? Why did you leave me? 

Blitzo: STOOOOOOOOOP!!!

Blitzo slumped over and covered his ears. He closed his eyes tight. Like the imp covered in wires, he tried to wake up from this nightmare. But he couldn't. He could still hear the muffled voice of the imp. Blitzo screamed. He screamed, because he didn't know what else to do. The figure grabbed the back of Blitzo's coat and pulled him back up. The imp was still there. 

Blitzo: Why? Why are you doing this? 

The imp shook. His tears became innumerable. He struggled to breathe. He moaned and coughed helplessly. 

Blitzo: Help him. Just... Do something! 

The imp continued to cry and choke. Each time he heaved from a cough, the oxygen tube came up a bit. After far too long watching this travesty, the breathing tube fell from the imp's mouth. The imp breathed as deep as he could with the wires still stuck inside him. Then he opened his eyes. Blitzo recognized them. 

Blitzo: No... 

Fizzarolli: Why did you leave me, Blitzo? 

Blitzo: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! 

Blitzo stood up and ran away, but he ran into something and was knocked down. Panting, panicking, he looked up at what stood in his way. It was the figure. Slowly, the grey mist in the form of a person became more focused. Feathers. His body was covered in feathers. Gray feathers. And then the second pair of red eyes appeared. Stolas stood over Blitzo. 

Blitzo: Stolas? Oh thank fuck, you're here. You gotta get me out of this place. 

Stolas: You want help getting out of a nightmare? What about your friend? 

Blitzo: Stolas, this isn't the time to be fucking around. 

Stolas looked at him with a seething hatred. 

Stolas: Why should I help you? 

Blitzo: Stolas, c'mon. You're not acting right. 

Stolas: How can I trust you? How could I love someone like you? 

Blitzo: Stolas, no... 

Stolas: How long until I'm the one strung up like him? How long until Octavia is strung up like him!? 

Blitzo: I would never do that to you! Never! 

Stolas: I'm glad Vassago saved your old friend. He's a living reminder of your failure. Your cruelty. 

Blitzo: STOLAS! PLEASE! 

Stolas: Whatever struggles and hardships you've had, you deserve worse. 

Stolas reached out his foot talons and grabbed a hold of Blitzo's head with them. He lifted Blitzo up to eye level. 

Stolas: I hate you.

A sharp, bloody, spear point burst out from Stolas' chest. The blood splattered over Blitzo's face. Stolas dropped him. He looked down at the imp. And rather than pain and anguish in his eyes, he still showed hate. Blitzo awoke drenched in sweat. By his side on the bed, was Stolas. Sound asleep. A smile on his face. His hand placed affectionately on Blitzo's chest.