For the Hate of God

Imprisoned within own mind

Trigger warning: emotional abuse, imagery of torture and child abuse.

Aralyn’s POV

My nightmare was playing out in front of my eyes. Is this for real? Shivers and raw dread broke out through every pore of my body. This time, however, Larissa and Malleteagan weren’t fighting against each other. My life appears as a ball of strings that were so bloody tangled. And now the puppeteer is pulling strings on these catatonic creatures. I am still trying to wrap my head around the idea that my father wants me dead, and now…my mother, the only person who cared for me, appears to also be hellbent on killing me. But then I saw it. They all looked controlled and as if they departed from their own accord. And they all have the same eyes that remind me of Sentaya’s. The horde of Lycans forayed at me in unison, led by my birth parents. All of them, including Lycans resembling mother and Malleteagan, had that absent, empty, deadpan gaze. Something about their eyes made me stop and reflect. I have seen this gaze somewhere. f*****g prick!

“Oh, Marcellus, I don’t know where the f**k you are, but I do know that this is your doing. This is not real. You are just playing with my mind again, you twisted cunt!” I screamed in a singing voice as I slashed through Lycan, who looked like my mother with my left hand and the one who looked like Malleteagan with my right hand. Purple smoke mixed with the electricity exploded from my arms along with my movements. I decapitated both forsaken, the Lycan that looked like my mother and one that reminisced of Malleteagan. They both evaporated in black and crimson dust. I continued to slay forsaken, one by one, effortlessly. Now that I have broken the mental barrier set by his little mind game, the lost souls of Wengarthria are no match for me.

“Your cheap parlour tricks do not affect me, dipstick! Is this all you have, you wanker” I yelled as I lifted my hand to fortify my broken shield. Before I finished, he transpired in front of me, in all of his glory, levitating above the ground.

His wings are black but heavily tinged with neon crimson fire and embers. He looked like a divine, fierce, fiendish and infernal version of a phoenix, all at the same time. I looked small as a mouse when compared to him, and I am a tall girl, probably thanks to Malleteagan‘a genes. The fiery halo surrounded Marcellus’ head, forming a crown around his auburn hair, which was falling down his back in all of its magnificence. Black pentagrams on Marcellus’ forearms now bleed in an intense neon mixture of crimson and obsidian, along with ember-etched runes that rippled and relocated their position on his forearm as he started to fight me with his wizardry. Cracks surrounding his eyes were a mixture of bleeding fire shining in obsidian and a spectre of neon ruby and gold. His face seemed almost transparent, and fire cracks could be seen resurfacing into his skin. As I fought him, I felt my runes sizzling with electricity and writhing throughout my skin, lightning in lilac rippling through my fur. My Lycan became translucent lilac, emanating my magic in violet rays, haze and smoke. We clashed, and a flashback of mother and Malleteagan came to mind.

Fire orbs mixed with black smoke and blue electricity zaps formed a fierce and fiery crown mixed with black dust and smoke around his hands. He aimed at my chest and directed his magic towards me. I felt the energy surge ripple through me, and the lilac substance of my life essence projected out of me, forming a shimmering violet armour that deflected Marcellus’ magic back from me. The tendrils of his magic quickly swirled around and retracted into his hands. I smirked and said: “I hope for the sake of your sorry ass that you have something more and better than this. My powers slivered and surged through me. When I was about to strike, dark, thick haze and putrid stench filled my nostrils. The last thing I saw was Marcellus grinning cunningly with mirth before his form, which blazed and bled fire and black dust of magic, disappeared in thin air.

The next moment, it felt like I was in Amaaralva, but it also looked like I was in Oribus. And then, the scene of my mother running away with me was playing in front of my eyes. I'm tripping over a twig again, as I did before. Mother and I crawled again through mud and brushes. It all played over and over again…right in front of my eyes. My mother was crying and screaming at me again, manically pushing me and begging me to be faster. "Tsk, tsk, tsk", ’

Malleteagan’s demonic grin broke the forest's silence. All over again. My mother pulled me behind her back again to face and tried to reason with him. Malleteagan was saying again that I am not his daughter but an abomination….

Abomination, abomination, abomination, he repeated it with a schizophrenic look in his eye, watching me dementedly, absentmindedly and emptily. His eyes…looked foreign and different …but somehow familiar. I just can’t put my finger on it. These are not Malleteagan‘s eyes. I have seen that crimson-purple pits somewhere. Then, a new-old scene of Malleteagan lunging at us. Again. My mother knocked on me again and whispered: "Aralyn, run as fast as you can and don't look back. Promise?" I ran. Like a coward. Again.

Then, the moment when Malleteagan shifted to his Lycan while my mother invoked the Thessalian shadows again, followed by that thunderous clash of a fight between them. Both of them released their magic, charging at each other. Mother's magic exploded, ramming left, right and centre at Malleteagan. At the same time, he punched her simultaneously, each punch of his fist mixed with his magic that looked as lightened with the moonlight, cracking every bone in her body. Again. Mother tried to deflect and avoid his assaults, but he was too quick, calculated and destructive. She looked like a sack of mushed meat and broken bones within seconds while her magic retracted back to her body. Her crushed and deformed body was crammed with wounds, bruises and skin tears. She bled abundantly before her final scream while gargling, gasping for air and choking on her own blood. She fell on her knees, and her lifeless body fell to the ground. She lifted her head and watched him straight into her eyes, murmuring enchantment. At the same time, her shadows evaporated and vacated her body. He then ripped her heart out with his hand and decapitated her.

But then, she would rise, and her face would change to the face of that other woman from my dreams—the one who was tortured before her little son and made to cut her own throat. And then, the scene would go back to the day of my mother’s death. These two scenes were repeatedly interchanging before me as if I was scrolling through the YouTube watch list of some psychopath.

After watching it for lord knows how long, Meena whimpered and winced at the scenery before us, unable to take it anymore. All the scenes that triggered soul-shattering anguish brewing within me were just before my eyes again. I relived every second of the worst moments of my life. The fate of that poor woman forced to kill herself in front of her boy also froze the blood in my veins. I felt immense sorrow and pity for both of them and their fate. In the background, I could hear the sinister guffaw that throttled my screams and cries as both scenes played repeatedly. Meena couldn’t take it anymore, and I shifted to my human form, falling on my knees, sobbing.

Marcellus appeared out of nowhere. He crouched down closer to me, tugged my hair and whispered to my ear whilst the warmth of his breath radiated through me. “I will make sure, my dear…” the word “my dear” rolled off his tongue with so much sarcasm, hatred, venom and spite that I froze out of fear and shivers that went through my spine.

“…that every second of her pain is mimicked in whatever is left of your miserable life. And I will ensure that your granny Noosha does not find you until I decide to end your miserable life in front of her eyes. Tit for tat, dear Moon mutt,” He whispered in my ear under his breath.

This was interrupted by the new hell-loop, while Marcellus’ form dissolved in the air and disappeared again. In this loop, I am back in the moment when Malletigan just monstrously slaughtered my mother. His fierce snarl of victory and violence broke the peace of Amaaralva, and he started to chase me. But this time, he caught me, and scenes of my torment at Avesta castle began to play before my eyes. The scenes of my torture then evaporated, and scenes of torment and rape of that unknown woman appeared. But now, she had my face. I held the knife to cut my throat, and the boy was screaming and thrashing against the guards, holding him and taking him away from his mother. My body then morphed into my mother's body, and Malletigan was just above me, ripping my heart out. His face was swiftly morphing into the face of every man that caused the pain in my life, from Malletigan to Marcellus, from Marcellus to Norgarth. And to faces of the tormentors of that poor unknown woman who killed herself to save her son.

I screamed hysterically while sobbing and begging for the torment to stop. No form of physical punishment or torture I suffered before was even remotely similar to the amount of fright and anguish I feel now. I am trapped in my own protective shield, and no one apart from Marcellus can enter it. I cannot run away or hide as I am enslaved and shackled within my mind whilst facing my greatest fears and guilt in an endless time loop. How can I free myself from this torment? There is no creature walking across the realms able to break my spells. And I am captivated by the cloaking spell armour that I made, Marcellus being the only one able to get in and out of my armour because of his telekinetic abilities. Apart from him, I am the only one to break it, and I am imprisoned within my own mind.