Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20161103020802/@comment-28358106-20161112074854

A moment of madness, a mere glimpse as I pass through the portal that is the entrance to a conscience that should not be...

Disoriented. Enclosed, and dying. Tethered to an existence by the will of another, I see her in this mindscape, trapped in her own tortured sentience in a body that isn't hers, that isn't even alive. The sorcerial bindings that bend her will to another are crude, as crude as twine may be used to reattach a severed limb, the blood that is her sanity spilling out into the abyss. She cannot sleep, she cannot dream, she cannot think. She is but the puppet on the end of a thousand strings.

And she is young. 

Her gaze leads me to the shadowy rift that skirts her conscience. It is a violation, a tear in her memory that keeps her from herself, placed there by the foul, crude sorcery of her creator. I almost cannot see it, but I follow its vile magic, and follow it back to her. It is only then that I see the Puppeteer for what it is.

A Demon. A REAL Demon. 

"Of course ot had to be an intermediary," I say aloud as I approach, my voice echoing in the ether. "That little fool is far too weak for mind manipulation on his own.  He struck a bargain with you, did he?  Found one of the Old World darklings  because he couldn't manipulate the mind of a little girl on his own?"

Emile and the Demon turn as one.

william is your friend

"William is my friend."

he cured your disease like the one he had

"He cured my disease like the one he had."

"Emile, listen to my voice!" I say, gesturing. "He's using you!  Don't you know about the things he's done to you?  Don't you feel ashamed when you do them?"

A tear rolls down her cheek.

"Yes."

no

"No."

he is your daddy, he is your master

"He is my daddy, he is my master." The words halt in her throat, choking her.

I look to the Puppeteer. "You let her go, or so help me -"

you cannot, she will die

"You cannot, I will die."

My hands begin to thrum. "I'm not going to let you die, Emelia.  I promise." The disorienting landscape that is her mind becomes unsteady.

"I...I want to die."

no

"YES!"

nooooOOOOOOOOO

There is a shredding sound as the Puppeteer is rejected, wrenching from Emile's psyche. I reach out and grab her, holding her hand as she begins to fade, her reality falling apart around us. The air becomes clouded and dark as the evils of the past begin to overtake her memory. She shudders, weeping.

The rift opens widely, its malevolent glow pouring out and filling the air. From the forgotten recesses of her past, the Puppeteer looms up before us as its tether to the rift shimmers like a dark ray. Its malicious eyes search for a weakness, then they turn to me... 

the bargain with the william is not to be broken i must be allowed to feed i must feed you will die you will DIE

YOU WILL

DIE