VAIN | Inside the Universe

Chapter Thirty Three • Lake of Fire

It's been difficult as of late to recognize when I'm asleep from when I'm awake. Identically lifeless, I'm quite sure that both states could be nothing but a figment of my imagination. For if there's one thing death has won, it's the numbness that vises me whole.

But I could tell, now, that I've drifted into a darkness that was still not quite my own. I know, because it didn't lie to me. It didn't promise to absolve my crimes. But I couldn't care any longer. I know a dream is the only place I could feel anything other than I am right now.

I take the blessings as they come.

It's not like there was much resistance, but nonetheless, it still seduced me. Perhaps it wanted to prove that it still knew how to coax me in, and to show me just how weak I was. Amidst the darkness I stood surrounded by a fortified circle of mirrors, each one harboring reflections that were birthed from a similar blackness. It was the moment I became convinced that no blasphemy could be greater than when I met each and every one of her again.

Reintroduced in all their odious glory was the weapon for Israel, standing proudly next to the liberator of Eastern Africa. The espionage agent of London flashed a knowing wink at the rouge in the same loathsome fashion that the vengeful partner of the Black Widow grinned at the crossbreed of sin and pure evil wearing blood like a layer of skin.

Before I knew it, they looked back at me no different than they did the others. They beamed at me like we were all one of the same, sharing secrets through our eyes that only we know. For just a moment, I got closer, tempted by the dark persona and ready to accept the grace of this escape. But like all things that cannot sustain themselves, the closer you got to the illusion, the more it showed itself. The trick dawned on me as I saw it's second face, and nothing good came before the devouring pit of repulsion that grew instead.

You could see it so damn clearly if you looked just a bit too long — the cracks. They ran down their faces and teetered on the edge of a shatter, fragile beyond compare.

The laugh that was supposed to erupt came out bitter, scoffing at them just under my breath. Never have I felt more disgusted with anyone. I couldn't care less about what they've done. It was not because of the evil they are. What nauseated me was how easily I could see right through them, and that I could see in front of me just how easy it was for him to take us.

They wore blood like armor, as if every fall would build them up just a little more. And worse, they believed it. Hauntingly did they look at me, so smug, so sure, so ignorant to the fact that they all look just as broken as I do now.

How did they possibly survive so long?

I was frantic until I met with an empty mirror, one that didn't reflect anything back to me. Vacant and void, it's solace became the one thing that motivated it all, and before I knew it, that desire composed my very nature.

Pathetic. Truly, pathetic.

I didn't need to hit them so hard, but I did. Someone needed to. I fisted my hand and turned to the first mirror, swinging my arm into the glass and shattering the image to the ground. This time, they looked at me now as they should — as their ruin.

I used anything and everything at my disposal, kicking and punching and throwing them each to the floor, listening to their agony as they fell.

The sharp glass placed their blood on my hands, but perhaps for the first time, I truly felt no remorse. I listened to their dying cries and stood amidst the broken dynasty. Pride, as twisted as it may have come, filled my chest at the prospect of no succession. No more may reign and no others can rise.

That is before I caught movement in the mirror that was once empty, and my body numbed. She walked cautiously, silent, taking in her surroundings as if she were assessing whether or not it was smart to come out. I stopped in my strides to meet her, and when she suddenly caught my eye, so did she.