The first thing I notice is always the shadow. Anything that hides in a human guise will affect the passage of light, in some ways more subtle than others. To a normal person they wouldn't see anything different, with the mind-obscuring effects active. But to those of us with psychic inclinations, it would change.

Vampires would show a hunched figure, large wings folded at their backs. They were not the beautiful beings of legends, but beasts. Werewolves would show their thick fur, hot breaths evident even on the warmest of days. Fey had ones that were too slim and graceful, demons flickered like flame. So many varieties existed, I was used to identifying them with a casual glance.

Once I had seen their shadow's form, their guise would fade for me. I knew of others like me, yet whose minds weren't as strong as mine. They would see flickers of their true forms, but nothing permanent. Yet for me it would see a faint image of their disguise, behind which I could see their true forms.

Most of the time, I left them alone. They might not be human, but they did little to harm them. Sure, some might accidentally get hurt, but such was the way of things. It was only went they went out of their way to be malicious would I step in. Despite clear physical differences between us, they found I was more than a match, reading their intentions even before they could act on them.

I was walking alone, enjoying a nice day in the park, when I noticed someone different. Something about their movements made me take notice, and I glanced at their shadow. For a moment it looked human, before splitting into a writhing mass of tentacles.

I stared for a moment, caught offguard. I had seen many different forms, but each at least had a form of humanoid shape to it. This was a formless mass, utterly different to anything I knew about. I dragged my eyes up to their body, seeing their illusions pale.

Inside was a wet, twisting vision of madness. Those tentacles I saw wove around each other, some topped with eyes, others with mouths, all in a seemingly random.and ever moving configuration. A singular large eye was located in its centre, one that swivelled to meet my gaze.

Having seen its form, my mind instinctively went to touch it. But it's thoughts were arrayed in such a different way, I could not see them. Or rather, as I tried to grasp them each part slipped through my grip. One shattered itself, forming a new shape aimed at me.

"A psyche-watcher, how intriguing."

The alien creature stalked towards me. Its human guise would be locking eyes with mine, even as I stared into its true form. I inwardly gagged at the wet sliding sound it moved with, something about it so inherent wrong it revolted me.

"I know you see me."

I tried to pulled back as it spoke to me, but another shattered thought encircled my mind. It rooted me to the spot, preventing me from telling my body to move. I felt nothing from it, as though I was merely an ant being inspected. With fear lancing my head I fought to escape, yet I was held in a grip of iron.

"Psyche-watcher, lend me your mind. I wish to understand."

I focused, forming my own words.

"Let me go."

It finally stopped, now close enough to touch. It's thoughts grew tighter, keeping me locked in place. A branch grew from on part of its broken mentality, scraping at the edge of my mind. An insidious touch, something I had never imagined to be possible. A mental interrogation, the mind forced open like a book. It addressed me once more, even as it cut open my mind.

"I will understand."

ELeVezone WaiycArd DiEary of Pa1N

The old woman began to shake, her eyes dark and empty, like an abyss. Her almost bald head could have no skin and would be the same, her few remaining teeth reaping through her flesh. life itself abandoned her before the arrival of death.

Surrended by her family. They were mourning in silence. It was an early funeral, burial of hopes.

In a dark corner there was a boy weeping. She was his grandma. Well loved by those around her. She was okay just a few years before. But suddenly things changed dramatically. Insanity , dementia and delirium struck her brutally. She lost the ability to walk in 6 months and to talk in a year.

The little boy was crying, granny loved him and he loved her too. But deep in his eyes there was something else, something his mom and dad could not see. Horror, terror, he was seeing something others could not. Something impossible to explain. A black mass, blurry like fog and distinct like a rain cloud, was around his grandma. It was sucking a thing out of the old woman. Stream of a colorless glowing substance. He couldn't figure what it was. But he knew it was sinister.

Then from inside that foggy being two fiery eyes appeared. Two small red dots, staring into his very being.

-So you can see me little one. Huh! Pity, you are a beautiful child, and now I must haunt you for the rest of your life.

No other soul in the room was hearing a thing. Little buy watched in horror as room around him became blighted with darkness. He was all alone, with that thing. An unbearable rush of melancholy and helplessness was taking over his mind. He tried to scream but nothing came out.

-You know, she could see me too. And I would say it didn't end very well. They thought she was crazy, but she was fighting a war she could not win. And soon you will join her.

His voice began to rise in the boy's head:

And soon you will feel them all young one. Mania, schizophrenia, paranoia, unimaginable suffering for daring to break the order. All of you bunch will end up in asylum. And I will feast. You shall see me again. And you shall know my name, and you shall never speak it, or else you inflict me upon those who hear my name, is ELeVezone.

Old woman's family were crying around her bed. Her chest was not moving anymore. Voice of cries were rising. They were so busy with the dead, they didn't notice the boy peeing himself in the corner of the room. Nor the thing in his eyes. The terror. And a face he would never unseen.

End of intro

You’ve asked me to explain myself, but I’m not even sure you’d believe me. You can deny me my humanity and distance yourself from my endeavours but know that my actions are not unique to me. I am no different than any of you. I am complete.

In the same way you wake without trying and sleep without thought, I see. I see, because my mother did as her mother and her mother’s mother did.

“Kota.”

In the same way you hunger without effort and tire after work, I know. I know because my father did as his father and his father’s father did.

“Kota.”

Everything about what stands before me gives me reason to fear it.

Seer. Fortune Teller. Prophet. Different names but always the same role. I’ve seen so many beings and spirits, so many angels and ghosts but no matter what I witness and no matter what sights time permits, it has always ALWAYS been of this plane and this planet.

The divide between the natural and supernatural has always been grounded in patterns I can recognize. If I discuss my practice, those unfamiliar would expectedly think me crazy. A fool. But they simply do not see the strings that tie the two realities. I mean, a ghost is simply a person passed. Nothing magical or unordinary about it.

But today I stand across several eyes that bleed red with every blink, fixed upon a face that stretches to the floor. As it speaks, I see simultaneous movement on either side of its face and so I can only infer that it's its mouths. The room isn’t small, but its size alone forces me into a corner as red slowly pools at its base.

“Kota.”

Its voice is quiet. Barely any sound really but the "K" and the "T" are sharp clicks that echo through its throat.

Its skin is black but shines blue and is littered with large pores that open wide and close shut with every breathe.

“Kota.”

“Yes?” I reply only because it seems to be my only option. Silence only encouraged its repetition.

Assuming my response would generate a conversation, I am instead faced with the irony of silence.

“How do you know my name?” I try again.

It blinks slow. Red drips to the ground.

“I know the names of all that call me.”

A demon? Maybe ghoul?

“I-I don’t think I have. C-Called on you I mean.”

Grime reaper? Death? Is that it? Has my time come?

“Every night you wish for my company and you beg for my presence.”

It inflates as the thousands of openings vibrate as it pulls in air.

“Please I- Forgive me but I’m not sure who you are. What is your name?”

“I have no name.”

From it’s side I see movement as something begins to reach out. An arm, long and limp, reaches for me.

“Your desire for what I can offer has led me to where I am now. I know you Kota.”

It’s tongue rolls out of its mouth as it licks the red that spills from its eyes.

“I don’t know what that means. Please just spell it out for me. Are you a manifestation of my thoughts? What are you?”

“I am a purpose. A being driven by function.”

“Ok and what are you called?”

“I have no name.”

“I don’t understand. What is it that you want from me?”

“One fifth of your soul.”

“No.”

Blood. Hair. Skin. Anything but my soul. I am a poor psychic, a shitty prophet, but I know of balance. I know that if I hope to know peace, to truly exist in her presence, I must die as I was born, with my soul in its entirety.

“I am incomplete. I am cursed to travel— trapped between space and time— destined to forever search and acquire what I need.”

“Cursed by who? Who is your maker?”

“I am. I willed it, so it is so. A manifestation of my one sin: desire.”

“You- ? I don’t get it..you mean you collect th-?”

It takes a deep sigh. It’s face folds in on itself then releases as its eyes pop back into place. I’m certain that it has expressed some type of emotion, most likely frustration, but I am unsure of how to read its face.

“On the day your…,” It looks to my desk. “… books are able to dream or your..” Speaking slow and deliberate like I am a child unable to grasp the simplest of ideas, it looks down at my feet and continues, “…or your shoes are able to want, you will understand. I wish for more than my intended function. I wish to wish and do. I wish for a soul.”

“But you do wish. You do desire. Is that not evidence of a soul. You are-“

“My prayers have been met with a compromise. Every effort I make to..to be as I wish, as I want, has been…” It trails off as it looks off out my window, but still keeps a few eyes on me.

“I have lived many lives. Each one shorter than the last. The gods of Gol and Abraham have denied me. I have bled for the Shrapenthas and have cried for the Croki. I have prayed to the Greeks and the Romans, the ancient Hindu deities and the Buddha himself and all have turned me away.” It voice is louder now. Deep and hollow.

In no more than a whisper it says, “But you.. you have called out and cried to be released of this burden.”

“What are you talk-?”

“You have wished for a long time now. You no longer want this burden. The burden of a soul.”

“Do you mean-?”

“October 12, 2004 you swallo-.”

“I WAS FIFTEEN. I WAS YOUNG AND I WAS DEPRESSED. I-?”

“YOU WERE UNHAPPY.” It’s eyes shot open wide as the red pooled beneath us. It’s pores opened wide as it released a clear mucus. Anger.

“You wish for a simplicity that only a soulless life can bring. I would know. For in those times, I did not feel. I did not want. I am only left with the memory that I existed. A memory I only have now after having granted myself consciousness. Even now you tire of the complications that thought and desire bring. I am only asking for a fifth; only twenty percent! Not much will change. If you’d like I can take more but I figu-.”

“NO. No, um, twenty percent is fine. Ok. I mean I need to think ab—.”

“Perfect! So you agree!”

“No wait! I never—.” But it was gone along with all its excretions. It was like it was never there.

Two hours later and the floor was covered in the same red. Only this time, it was much much more.

I’m not even sure it really happened. I mean..I know it happened. I saw it happening before it happened, but at the time, I really did believe it to be another nightmare. I didn’t actually think I would ever be capable of doing something like this.

Maybe you were right. I really don’t know how it happened. I remember doing it but there was no thought behind it. I just..

I think you were right. I would never have done what I did, had I been left complete. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

[removed]

[removed]