Your life is more valuable to yourself than it is to others.
If it meant killing hundreds of people to keep my swords and daggers safe, I wouldn't hesitate for even a second.
I hold a sword in each hand. The more I walk, the hotter the ground becomes, and the more my vision blurs. My steps are careful.
I stop in my tracks as I hear a piano. I scan the darkness around me. The melody stirs an unwanted anxiety. My heart burns, and my chest tightens. I have no idea why that song affects me this way—and part of me doesn't want to know.
I walk faster, trying to find a way out, but the quicker I move, the faster the music becomes. The faster the music becomes, the more my heart burns.
As the piece reaches its loudest, I fall- into a hole that looks exactly like the same goddamn hole that led me to this messed-up world.
I close my eyes and lose myself in the song and the memories it brings. In those memories, there are kids I've never seen before, and something- something shadowy- is watching them. Watching their every move. Watching how they play, laugh, and cry.
At some point, it feels like that thing isn't watching the kids anymore -it's watching me. And all those memories take place in the same location: the living room of the Marquis Manor. The one with the piano Kira always plays.
There are three kids. Two boys, who look about seven, and a girl who looks around five.
I snap my eyes open. I'm still falling. I reach out with my hands and feel something solid on my right side- a wall. A smirk creeps across my lips.
With some effort, I return my swords to their place and draw my dagger. With one swift move, I stab the wall. My fall stops instantly. Now I hang there- suspended- for what feels like an eternity.
Every so often, which feels like hours or even days, I switch the hand holding the dagger.
My patience slowly burns out. How much longer do I have to wait? At some point, I won't be able to hold on any longer.
Alone, the illusions are already enough of a burden.
Maybe all those hallucinations broke my mind. Maybe that's why I forgot that I have a demon form- with fucking wings and horns.
The question is: how the fuck am I supposed to transform? There's no spell that fits this moment. And I've never flown with these wings, so I have no idea what to do now.
Think, Lilith, think. Damn it- what should I do? Wait until I die?
I switch hands again. My eyes start to burn-just like my arms. I let my eyelids fall.
My thoughts are a whole damn circus—completely messed up.
To be continued…