2004-03-30 Dear Die-ary

From TwistedMUCK
Jump to: navigation, search


Alot has happened since the last time I opened this book. What was once a life filled with angst and regret, I'm now surprised to find things only a little improved. It began with my decison to travel over-seas. I had hoped to run from my fears. Run from my past. Instead I finaly underwent that voyage I had long thought about accross to the other side of my mirror. Here there was a new breed of human. The festering bowels of society where a bit cleaner here. I was at first filled with the mis-guided hope that I'd finaly found the one place in my world where I almost fit in. But then the horrible truth arrived. Much like a lost episode of the twilight zone, I'd found myself in another world. One where fiction was reality and no one knew where to find a good brain-freezie. The voices in my head seemingly gone, I ventured out into this new world and took a chance at a local establishment. There I met many a strange person including a winged man named Cale who claimed to have lived in many other worlds. I began to almost feel comfortable there - but again that led to tragedy. The voices in my head - the Doughboys and their master - had returned somehow, seeming to know longer need my own psyche to exist. However, resisting them I discovered that they where still trying to find ways of enslaving me to my own desires. To my own shock, some of these people I'd met arose and defeneded me. Perhaps I'd miscalculated in assuming that everyone was the same... Well, becoming confortable enough with the company of such rare examples of their species, I began to describe them in terms such as 'friends' dispite the bitter taste this left in my mouth. As always things change and the fruit begins to rot. The world fell apart as it was destroyed like a glass bowl pushed over the edge of a table. Somehow most of them survived by cheating death and breaking the laws of causality - tearing a whole into the next world as a means of escape. My own doubts led me to believe that this was all apart of my own fractured mind, especialy when I discovered the resturant I'd first ventured into open for business on this, my third world. Although I still doubt it's explanation, it seems that the building was saved by the man called Cale as he used a form of magic to protect it. Magic! Such a childish idea in todays world. Yet, again and again, these people show me more evidence to make me suspect otherwise. Since my first voyage into the second world, the city of Neo Tokyo, I had heard stories of a dark angel called Datenshi that had single handedly slaughtered dozens of people and destroyed their places of gathering simply to entertain his own ideas. Now, here in this new world, refrered to as Metropolis, these stories had begun again. Taking the opportunity to track the man down I finaly had the oportunity to meet the legend. This proved to be my own downfall as the daughter of one of my 'friends' became the subject of his attack. Despite my own judgement I was compelled to chear him on, as Datenshi riped the heart from her chest and laughed at her misery. Somehow, someone had arrived to hear her cries and the resulting conflict ended with my own demise. I continued to exist as a body-less conciousness as I remained with the poor girl. Feeling such human emotions as compassion, I felt obligated to stay at her side as her own "friends" did there best to help her. Of course she ended up showing her own true colors as she exclaimed to her companion that an unborn life should be ended just because of the circumstances of it's conception. Angered and full of shame for my own assumptions about the nature of the girl, I ran from the scene and into the arms of the grim reaper itself. Now I sit alone in the Heaven of this Metropolis-world awaiting my own judgement. It seems that I don't even belong here in this world or amoung it's dead! Uncaring of anything but their own kind, I've been left here alone until they decide to come and check on my spirit and decide for me the fate that they'd find most accomidating their own needs. Damn them. My first instinct is to show these self-obssessed humans the nature of life and why it should be held in such high respect. Bringing them to the brink of their own death would surely make them understand. However I'm still haunted by the promise I made to the man named Terry. My own tounge betrayed me and I swore to only use my talents in self deffence or to help those that where too weak to help themselves. Such ideas seem rediculous in light of my situation. Despite the false appearance of Terry's own child and her subsequent unveiling, I still feel obligated to my words. For this alone I sit and wait, my thoughts being my only company. Aside from all this I still feel the need to melt Iccarus's wings should he ever cross my path...


Personal tools