Shadows of the Mind
Cutscene: Shadows of the Mind
Author
IC Details
Synopsis:

Myrkr struggling to deal with wounds of the past and newfound issues

IC Date: January 11, 2020
IC Location: Myrkr's apartment in New York
OOC Notes & Details
Posted: 11 Jan 2020 07:24
Rating & Warnings: Pg-13 for corpse-eating and spookiness
Associated Plots

Myrkr wakes with a gasp, sitting up in a cold sweat, panting from a rush of adrenaline as he looks around frantically for a moment. He pushes himself to the side of the bed as thunder rumbled threateningly from outside, it was raining in Gotham tonight. He looked at his frail weak arms for a moment before his hands go to his head, wiping cold sweat from his brow as a boom of lightning lights up his dark bedroom for a moment. He dreamt the same dream he did every night, this night was no different. He closes his eyes, hoping to forget.

He sat there, reading a book, in his favorite bean bag in a small suburban living room. His adopted father, the only father he's ever known, was reading the new's paper on a dull brown leather loveseat. Age was showing on him, wrinkles on the skin, the hair once black turning slowly into a grey. His adopted mother in the kitchen, cooking breakfast while humming a mixture of various tunes. A heavyset, but motherly figure…she loved to cook. He can't remember why, but he's always anxious in this dream, the book he's reading in this dream is a comic book, concerning captain America and his adventures, an old copy from the war.

There's a knock at the door, his father, without looking down "Can you get that son? My knee's have been shaky lately, and you've been lazin around enough, up and at 'im." his father says with a chuckle, probably at some cheeky joke he was saving for the breakfast table, he never understood why his Mom laughed at these jokes, perhaps it was the antics? Myrkr closes his book as he stands up, setting the book down near his bean bag before heading over to the door. He stops to look in the mirror hanging in the hall-way set so when vistors open the door, so that they can look upon themselves. He saw a man in his prime, athletic, proud. He smiles at it before opening the door, he see's a man wearing black robes, sunken eyes, a bald head before him.

Myrkr is suddenly blasted out from the door way on to the street, skidding across it before coming to a halt. He looks up to see his house on fire, the man holding a torch "A beast should only know what love is, but never have." the man says smuggly before tossing the torch on to the building that lights on fire. Before he has time to gasp, the sound of honking, he turns to see a car crash into him. Blackening the dream with the same bitter voice "Chain the beast, so that he may not run from his masters."

He always awakes in his dream to see himself in the mirror, in complete darkness, all alone. He no longer see's the proud, athletic man, he see's someone differnet. This man is wasted, scars line the body where muscles were torn out, phantom pains sometimes come from what is missing. He see's his own bones, the eyes starved and desperate, what pride was there is gone, torn, savaged. What replaced it is fear, worry, and uncertainty. After a moment, the robed man steps from behind "Look at you, your all alone now, too foolish to make friends, even when hands are offered." the man scoffs and scolds.

Myrkr turns around to see no such man, but hands offered, he only has to touch them. He reaches, but he can't quite make it, he stops himself every time. He stops out of fear, fear of the unknown. As he withdraws his hands he turns back, the shadows with arms wide open, waiting to embrace him, the robed man waiting. He motions forward "Oh poor creature, we'll always welcome you, after all, we helped create you, all you must do is serve. Your worries, your pain, your loniness, we'll take them all away, all you have to do is serve….Myrkr." he says with a wide smile, eye gleaming with malice.

Myrkr goes to back away, finding his arms chained, he looks down, struggling before looking back up to find a monster before him. He blinks and he is the monster, another blink he's out amongest corpes, eating them for food. He tries to throw them away, but finds he can't. Such succulent flesh, and he's so hungry…what could hurt but another bite? Robed men toss him more corpes, he see's the burnt husks of his adopted parents, his maw moving to devour them.

He opens his eye, back in his room, he shivers. Reminding himself that its just a dream, that he hasn't eaten corpses, he isn't in chains…but yet there's truth. He stands, walking towards the window, looking down at those on the street tonight. He watches people, ghost images of their sins playing out, their fears, even their regrets. Ghosts and other things wail tonight, sometimes spotting a wander spectre that begs the living for help, yet no one bat an eye. He smells sewage, garbage and the car exhaust, his neighbors sweet which squelches as they sit on the couch, fanning themselves with a fan as they watch T.V. He blinks as he turns back to his bed, sitting for a moment, finally calming down enough to lay back down.

He watches his ceiling fan turn, his reflection in it exactly at his dream, but determination lies in those eyes…along with everything else. He frowns in pain as he turns away, closing his eyes slowly to the sounds of things calling his name "Myrkr……Myrkr…..Myrkr….we await you."

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