Mist {BTSxReader}

Chapter 31: Voices

"The human voice is the organ of the soul."

                                                               -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"I heard it once--the music box."

"Its melody still haunts me to this very moment. The song of the damned echoes over the waves."

"They say the songs of the first are in there--trapped and waiting for release. But it didn't sound like a song to me--not a real one--it sounded like screams. I heard the wailing of mothers who'd lost their babes at sea. I heard the whispers of lovers in lagoons. I heard the gasping of sailors' final breaths."

"I hear my wife and son. 'One more,' I'd told her 'One more score and we can live like kings the rest of our lives.' I lied. I knew I was lying too. I never had enough, even when I had too much--too much that I didn't deserve."

"You know why the music box is so powerful? How it controls the sea? Neither do I...but, if I were to guess, I'd wager that it's because even the waves are scared of that terrible sound. Once you hear it, it never leaves your mind."

"I can't do it anymore. I'm tired of hearing it--over and over and over again."

"It's loud--Too loud! So loud I can't stand it! So loud that I want to shove a knife in my ears to shut it out! But it won't work...the song is in my head now...always playing."

"That's why I have to die."

"Maybe...Maybe that will work. Maybe I can be with my wife and son again.  Maybe the music will stop!-"

---

Cold sweat soaked your forehead as you blinked your eyes open. You did not shoot up in fear, you couldn't. Your body was frigid and stiff, exhausted from the restless night of tossing and turning. Even breathing was painful. 

The voice of that man was still in your ears. His last words and the musket shot that followed. It wasn't a dream. There were no images or feelings...only his voice. 

You'd never heard anyone sound so lost--so defeated. His voice almost mirrored your own. When you'd first arrived in The Four Kingdoms, you spoke as he did. You were scared--terrified that you would never go back home again. Now, you can barely feel anything that isn't red, hot rage. 

When you finally found the strength to sit up, rested your head against the wooden frame of the bed and closed your eyes. 

You didn't know how much longer you would need to play at being a hero of worlds. You only knew that you had to play at it. No matter how unfair it was and no matter how tired you were. 

It wasn't an easy task--not that you ever thought saving the entirety of every known universe would be--and at some point you started to wonder if it was even worth it. 

They were all waiting for you to get back. 

But maybe you didn't deserve to. 

You pulled the sheets back and stood from the bed, ignoring the sudden wave of dizziness and exhaustion that crashed over you, and, after getting dressed, moved towards the full-length mirror on the opposite end of your quarters. 

You looked terrible. You were thin--too thin to be healthy--and dark bags were a stark contrast against the sun-kissed color of your skin. Your hair was a mess and even the shining blue color of your eyes seemed to have dulled. Your cheeks were sunken in from your constant lack of appetite, making you look a bit more like a zombie than a pirate queen. Despite all of the imperfections in the mirror, one in particular caught your eye.