Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction ❯ Ethereal ❯ Hysteria ( Prologue )

Summary: To travel through the worlds, forsaking sanity. There are some lessons to be learned first, and fate is a cruel teacher.

 

Rating: Teen. Will definitely go up in future chapters.

 

Genre: Action/Drama/Horror/Psychological

 

Status: Work in progress.

 

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to their original creators, including, but not limited to: Bryan Konietzko, C. S. Lewis, Eoin Colfer, Hiromu Arakawa, J. K. Rowling, J. R. R. Tolkien, Jonathan Stroud, Kishimoto Masashi, Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman, Phillip Pullman, Rumiko Takahashi, Scott Westerfeld, Trudi Canavan, and Ursula K. Le Guin. This fic is not for profit and is not intended to infringe on copyrights.

 

A/N: This idea has been running around in my head for a while, and I've finally managed to spit a short piece out. This is my first attempt at a continuation, so hopefully I'll be able to stay with it and update regularly.

 

 

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Prologue: Hysteria

 

 

 

It had been raining.

 

But of course. How appropriate for a story like mine. How very tragic, and oh, so pitiable.

 

But they can't imagine the suffering. They haven't experienced the agony that forces them to the ground, begging and writhing and screaming, cutting like a lightning-edged sword.

 

The lightning strikes were swords that night. Swords that helped him cut me into pieces while the deafening thunder lamented for me, and I was on my back, searching for some kind of physical pain that I would never find.

 

It had been cold, such a profound, terrible cold. My body had gone numb. But maybe that was a good thing. I'm sure the few scraps of sanity I have wouldn't exist if I had actually found that pain. Because it was almost too much to feel it with my soul.

 

It felt like I was drowning, though not physically, because I had no sense of feeling left in my frozen body. No, this was worse, so much worse.

 

My soul had been dragged to the bottom of the darkest pit in hell. But it was my hell, within me. I had never known that place, had never even imagined something that frightening, that appalling, was lurking in me. And it was so dark, so hopelessly dark, and the shadows grabbed me and choked me and hurt me. And then it became me. That darkness, so overwhelming that I couldn't help but wonder if I had ever seen light before, became me.

 

It banished my soul, though I suppose my soul rejected it, too. Rejected me. And so my body had died, its source of life gone. It hasn't yet been buried.

 

I should have been left to rest. To let my soul to dissolve into the world and cease to exist. It was the last thing I had. It was mine. It was supposed to be mine. He couldn't take that from me.

 

But he did.

 

And he forced my body to move again, but I didn't want it! I had never wanted it, and I couldn't take it anymore, and I just wanted to die and rest in peace!

 

Except I was already dead. A soulless monster, living, thriving, on the blackest of magic.

 

With that, I had lost any wisps of innocence I might have still possessed. Because to take that from a person, their very soul and right to rest, is disgusting and unforgivable. And the victim becomes a monster, used and betrayed and filthy and forever broken beyond repair because a soul can never be replaced.

 

A soul can never be replaced. That was my first lesson.

 

And fate is a cruel teacher.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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